Malach sighs. “Lyklan has an active romantic life.”
“Sure,” I scoff. “If that’s how you want to put it. He’s fucking half your staff, angel.”
“Wait.” She narrows her eyes at me. “How do you know that?”
I huff, offended that she doubts me.
“He’s a spy, remember?” Luca’s voice is husky. “I bet Riven noticed, too.”
“Of course,” Riven says. There’s a bored note in his voice, but it’s patently fake. He’s pleased to be recognized for his observational skills, and he can’t fool me.
Ciprian sits up and scowls. “Loud,” he mutters.
“Spoiled,” I toss back. “You’re wasting daylight, Casanell.” I’mwinding him up for my own entertainment; it’s barely light outside. When he doesn’t take the bait, I feel robbed.
He crawls down the bed to avoid climbing over anyone, then leans over to lift Celine. His abs bunch as he scoops her up, and the combination of their naked skin makes me thirsty.
“Um.” I clear my throat awkwardly. “If anyone is up for it, and the timing is convenient, I could use some blood.”
Before I can blink, there are three—no, four—wrists thrust in my face. My eyes bulge as I follow the big vein in Malach’s forearm up. “I’m not sure, with the blood circle,” I sputter and swallow heavily. “But I appreciate the offer.”
Malach blushes. “I don’t think you’re in love with me, Alistair. I was only curious. Your mom told you it could happen with anyone you fed from who you had feelings for, right? Do those feelings have to be romantic, or...” He scrubs his hand over his face. “I guess, I thought maybe because we’re friends now, right? Maybe the blood circle would understand that.”
He glances down at his lap. I know I should say something. Anything would be better than my stunned silence, but I’m astounded that he’s spent time thinking about this. And touched.
Luca smacks me in the shoulder. “For fuck’s sake, Ali,” he hisses. “Go to the bathroom with Malach and find out. You’re being mean.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Malach says. “He doesn’t have to.”
I growl and cut him off. “You are my friend, Malach. We’re friends. You surprised me, that’s all.” I climb from the bed and step into a pair of clean sweatpants. “I’m happy to give it a try, but please don’t take it personally if I throw up afterward.”
Our walk to the bathroom is silent. While I clean my teeth, Malach scrubs his hands and arms methodically before patting the skin dry and propping against the edge of the bathroom sink. When he offers me his wrist, I take it and glance at him. “It’sgoing to make you horny,” I warn him. “Unless you’d rather I make it hurt.”
He shakes his head.
I bring his wrist to my mouth, freezing right before his skin touches my lips. “I won’t read into it if you need to touch yourself. I won’t even watch.”
Malach rolls his eyes. “I think I’ll be fine.”
Before he can tense up again, I bring my mouth—not to his wrist—but to his forearm, licking the bulging vein I noticed earlier before sinking my fangs into it delicately.
Malach grunts as I swallow a mouthful of his blood. It’s delicious—warm and earthy, without anyeau de garbage. His blood doesn’t taste rancid to me, but I pull back anyway, giving my body time to accept or rebel against the idea of adding a friend to the blood circle.
One minute passes, then two, and my fangs throb.
I feel totally fine. No, I’m thirsty as hell, every instinct screaming at me to take more. “I think you were right,” I admit.
Malach’s eyes are glassy, and I can see the outline of his cock through his sweatpants. I look away, not wanting to make this weird and send him running.
“Good,” he whispers. “That’s good. Do you need more?”
Fuck, he sounds hopeful.
Growling low in my throat, I lick the puncture marks on his arm closed and sink my fangs directly into his neck. His pulse is fast, but he slumps against me, resting his forehead on my shoulder and exposing his entire throat in the process. A small sigh leaves his lips, and I have to force myself to slow down.
Malach is too trusting.
He spent weeks under torture, yet he volunteered to be my blood bag, and we both know it’s not about feeding me breakfast. Malach is aware of my fear of being separatedfrom Celine, Luca, and Ciprian, and slowly starving to death. He’s offering me peace of mind and control, right on the heels of losing it himself.
