Page 116 of The Donor’s Dilemma

“He’ll rip your hand off,” the doctor said, attempting to pry Theo’s mouth open.

“No,” Verity demanded. “Let go of him.”

“But…”

“I said let go of him,” she snapped. “Give him some fucking space!”

Two more vampires appeared but at Dr Smythe’s command they held back. The nurse at her side didn’t look too happy about it but took a step back too.

Theo’s eyes darted around the room, surveying the people watching him.

This wasn’t the man she knew. Hurt and vulnerable and absolutely terrified. But somehow, despite the blood that continued to drip from his wounds and his desperate need to feed, he recognised her. Verity didn’t care what the doctor said, it wasn’t only her blood that he needed; he needed her love.

“Hey,” Verity whispered, moving closer and ignoring Dr Smythe when he tried to stop her. “Theo, love?” With a feather light touch she brushed his blood soaked hair from his brow and he tore his eyes from the spectators to look at her. “I’m here, darling,” she murmured. “You’re safe now.”

When she stroked his face again, he leant into it, eyes fluttering at her touch. He looked so tired. Moving a little closer she realised that he’d grabbed a handful of her shirt, as if scared, she’d leave him. Verity cupped his face, not caring who saw, and kissed his cheek.

“I’m not going to leave you. I promise. But you need to release my wrist so you can drink.”

She stayed close, kissing him again and running her fingers through his hair, until he finally relented, opening his jaw by a fraction. The release hurt almost as much as the bite, but she refused to pull away. She’d promised.

When Theo took his first mouthful, his demeanour changed, the need to consume taking over. Dr Smythe moved but Verity shook her head, not trusting her voice as Theo’s cheeks hollowed.

“You need…”

“Just give him a minute,” she said, continuing to stroke his cheek.

She was vaguely aware of the others being dismissed until only Dr Smythe remained. Theo watched her throughout, blinking slowly, eyes rolling with contentment with every touch of her hand. The pain became secondary to the feel of his cool skin on hers.

“That’s enough, Miss Harper,” Dr Smythe said, moving around to her other side and holding a hand out for her.

With one last kiss to Theo’s cheek, Verity leaned back into the chair. The moment her head fell back a wave of sickening dizziness swept over her. Darkness danced at the edge of her vision as her whole body felt cold and clammy. Something wet slapped across her forehead and she looked up to see a concerned Dr Smythe looking down at her.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, adjusting the cold compress. “He can’t drink enough to kill you in one sitting.” Well, that was reassuring. Then he said the thing that made every drop of pain and fear melt away. “He must really love you.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

It was a full day before Theo found the ability to speak. A day of whispering sweet nothings to keep him calm while he fed. One whole day of being pumped with blood only to act as a human filter, ridding it of preservatives and anti-caking agents, and warming it to a drinkable temperature to be sucked back out again by a ravenous vampire.

Tony, the nurse, had explained it all to her, chattering away to drown out Theo’s possessive growling while he monitored her vitals and plied her with, not only blood but, also cold drinks and hot meals. He was around so much Verity wondered if he actually had any other patients, or if Theo was getting special treatment.

After the very first feed, once his stomach was full and eyes heavy, Dr Smythe had changed his dressings. He wheeled her outside, offering the drowsy vampire privacy even if he didn’t understand, and when she returned every drop of blood had been cleaned up, as if he hadn’t been bleeding out mere hours ago.

Feed after feed his colour improved, still pale but losing the deathlike grey sheen. The whites returned to his eyes too, until he finally opened them with hungry grey irises and asked in a raw croak, “Verity?”

Verity jumped from her cat-nap under the blankets Tony had given her, turning to find him staring wide-eyed at her IVs.

“Are you okay?” he asked, trying to get up before groaning in pain and realising he was cuffed to the bed. Dr Smythe had stressed not to release him until he started talking.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” she said, pulling the IV pole closer so she could reach over for the cuffs. “How are you feeling? Are you hungry?”

The question was redundant. The way he stared at her neck when she leant over to unbuckle his other hand told her exactly how hungry he was. But instead of admitting it he asked, “You reported me?”

“No,” she said, recoiling at the hurt in his eyes before pulling his arm around her so that she could slide closer, turning his face to her when he frowned in confusion. “No, I didn’t. I got a letter saying you reported me. You called Cora, remember?”

He watched her lips as she spoke, brow creased. “I… I wasn’t… too much.”

Too much? Her heart ached for him. Verity had thought Theo was bored of her, but Theo thought that he had been more than she could handle and scared her off. When she found out who sent those letters, Verity would have some choice words to say.