She was still unconscious, which was a blessing. Yes, her mother had survived the turning. But Gray was the first witch I’d ever personally known to survive the change—to begin the assimilation process. I had no idea how her body would react once it completed the transition—I only knew that she’d be hungry. Ravenous.
We needed to get her secured and sedated before she became conscious of that.
Holding her tightly against my chest, I nodded toward a clearing in the distance—our way out. “We’ve still got a bit of a trek ahead of us, and it looks like the snow is picking up again.” I stepped over the blood-soaked body of one of the hunters we’d dispatched. “Let’s just hope this was the last and only ambush.”
“Hope isn’t a viable strategy, bloodsucker.” Asher spit out another mouthful of blood, then rubbed his swollen jaw and sighed, exhausted but resolute. He looked to Ronan, as if asking permission.
“Do what you gotta do, brother.” Ronan clapped him on the back, then whistled for the hound, who bounded out of the dense knot of trees, her fangs and muzzle dripping with hunter blood. Seemed Ronan had interrupted her midnight snack, but if she harbored any resentment, she wasn’t showing it. She pressed her nose against Ronan’s leg, and he reached down to scratch behind her ears.
“What is it you have to do?” I asked Asher.
“Tie up a few loose ends.” Gesturing for the wolf, he said, “El Loboand I will meet you guys back at the lodge in the morning. Don’t wait up.”
“Where in the bloody hell are you going?” I asked.
At this, Emilio cocked back his massive furry head and howled at the moon, his battle cry haunting and clear, a chilling warning to all who’d dare cross his path tonight.
Asher flashed a feral grin, teeth glinting in the moonlight. “We’re going hunting, brother. Take care of our girl.”
Three
GRAY
So. Much. Blood.
The taste of it in my mouth, the smell of it in my nose, the viscous feel of it sliding deliciously across my tongue. My veins hummed with it, magic and power and strength, all of it crackling to life with a fierce intensity that made me feel like I could burn down the world with little more than a pointed glare.
I was born for this…
Flat on my back in nothing more than a T-shirt, underwear, and a thin sheet over my legs, I opened my eyes to complete darkness and tried to sit up. My body refused to obey. The blood inside me was buzzing and alive, my senses finely attuned, but my muscles felt slow and sluggish.
I sucked in a cool breath—the first I’d taken since I’d awoken—and realized at once we’d made it back to HQ. I could smell the familiar mix of salty ocean air and fresh-cut wood from the lodge’s timber framing, and the scents of all the witches and men and shifters who’d occupied it, every one of them clear and distinct. Strongest of all was Darius’s—that heady blend of leather and expensive whiskey that always made my blood sing.
Again, I tried to rise.
No luck.
My belly turned over with a terrible growl, empty. Craving. Demanding.
“You’re hungry,” announced a familiar voice, and slowly I turned my head to find my vampire standing near my bedside, still as the darkness itself. My eyes had already adjusted to the lack of light, and now I saw him as clearly as if he were bathed in afternoon sunlight. I blinked, not believing it, but the shape of him only sharpened—glossy dark hair, full lips that made my thighs clench with fresh, hot desire. His eyes narrowed as he took me in, his honey-brown gaze both tender and severe.
“Darius,” I whispered, but there was no time to wonder about his breathtaking beauty or my enhanced vision. My stomach turned over again, bringing with it a wave of nausea so severe it made me gasp.
I needed to move, to feed, and again I tried to sit up, but the firm, comforting press of his palm against my chest steadied me. I hadn’t seen the movement, but now he was standing right next to me, the scent of him nearly overpowering my senses.
I wanted him. Badly. My mouth watered for it, my core suddenly burning with the unquenched flames of desire. Everything inside me craved his touch.
My hunger for him was even more desperate than my hunger for blood.
I’m going to die without it...
“What’s…. happening to me?” I sputtered. “I feel like… like I’m…” I tried to reach for him, but my arms were locked in place, immobilized despite the fact that my skin felt like it was on fire.
No, not immobilized. Restrained, I saw now. Same with my legs and torso. I tugged hard against the binds—thick leather straps fastened tightly around my wrists, ankles, and across my lower rib cage.
They’d tied me to the bed. Under any other circumstances, I might’ve been turned on by the idea. Now, it just made me rage inside.
Still. I knew it had to be done. After all, I was a deadly predator now, recovering in a lodge full of warm bodies, every single one of them pulsing with thick, sweet blood.
