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She’d seen many wounds over the years and occasionally assisted with the healing process. But her recently acknowledged feelings for Griffin threatened to overwhelm her.

She forced herself to draw a deep breath. “I’m here. Tell me what to do.” The words left her mouth before she’d even formed the thought. Even with her knees feeling watery, she kept moving toward the table anyway.

One of the fae looked back at her. “Thank you for coming, Mistress. We know you value Mastyr Griffin and we need your help. Can you calm him? He’s not in his right mind and we’ll be able to help him better if he doesn’t thrash so much.”

“Of course.”

She spent the next hour with her hands on top of Griffin’s head, letting her power flow into his mind and ease his pain. The more relaxed his body became, even in his semi-conscious state, the swifter his cuts began to heal.

An hour wore on, then another. Progress, though slow, was steady, and gradually the wounds began to close.

When most of the healing was done, he slowly opened his eyes. He blinked several times as though trying to make sense of where he was. Leaning close, she spoke quietly to him. She explained that he’d been hurt during sparring and he was now in the stables.

He held her gaze, then pathed, You came. Thank you.

Her heart swelled as she looked down at him. Affection swirled through her. Concentrate on your healing.

Tell them you’ll take me back to the fortress to feed me.

She stared at him for a moment. Did he really want her to feed him? But what surprised her more was how much she wanted to do exactly that.

She nodded, then addressed the lead healer. “As soon as Griffin can walk, I’ll take him to the fortress and offer a vein. Would you agree this is the best course?”

“Yes, Mistress,” the fae said. “Opening a vein for him would complete his healing.”

The thought of giving her blood to Griffin, however, caused Sandra’s skin to grow warm and her heart to beat harder still. She put a hand to her chest. She felt very full as though her body was already preparing to take care of him. She’d never done this before and wondered if it was normal, to feel a supply building when you were about to feed a vampire?

When Griffin was at last on his feet and felt strong enough to walk, she slid her arm around his waist. He still wore his leathers and thigh boots, but otherwise was bare-chested. Another wave of heat, full of forbidden desire, washed through her.

She thought about her time in the fortress and how much her life had improved since Griffin had come. A year ago, she’d been lonely. But his presence in her life had changed all that.

Certain ideas began to coalesce in her mind and she wondered if she had the courage to follow through. If caught, she would suffer at Margetta’s hands, but she wasn’t sure she cared right now.

The kiss seemed to have made her willing to take risks she’d never considered before. That, and the fact she was hunting down a key and planning a crime for which she could lose her life if caught.

As she thought about feeding Griffin, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. She just wasn’t sure if he’d go along with it.

He pretended to lean on her as together they headed back to the fortress. You know this is just an excuse for me to touch you. Do you think anyone really believes you’re supporting me?

Doesn’t matter. I like your arm around my shoulders. So, I hear it was Fulton again.

Yes. Of course. And Margetta never punishes him so he feels free to do whatever he wants.

Fulton had command of the most powerful sparring men in the camp, including Griffin. Fulton made no secret of despising Griffin. The problem was, Fulton was a more powerful mastyr than Griffin, which meant he always had the upper hand in any contest.

Sandra knew Fulton would one day be bonded to a powerful female wraith and his abilities would allow him to defeat any ruling mastyr vampire. According to camp gossip, he wasn’t yet Invictus because Margetta was still hunting for an extremely powerful wraith for him. In Griffin’s opinion, Fulton, by nature was already Invictus. He enjoyed killing and took a psychopath’s pleasure in torture. If ever bonded, Sandra knew he’d make a fully evil adversary.

If Griffin had been the more powerful mastyr, he would have been a threat to Fulton. But given his greater abilities, Fulton had happily taken Griffin to the point of death many times in the past.

Griffin cleared his throat, then spoke aloud. “You don’t have to feed me.”

Sandra grew very quiet, her thoughts tunneling inward. For a brief moment, she was back in the storage closet locked in his arms. She remembered the feel of his lips against hers, his body, every manly part of him.

“I want to feed you.”

Griffin had always used the slaves Margetta provided for the vampires, when his blood needs grew demanding. As a mastyr, he had to feed every night. He suffered, as all mastyrs did, with a form of chronic blood starvation no mattered how often they used their fangs. Essentially, he was in pain all the time.

But as a mastyr, he was more powerful than any average vampire, one reason Margetta had wanted him to spar with her troops. He’d be the equal of any bonded Invictus male and more often than not superior to them. Sparring with him would make the Invictus warriors more effective in battle.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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