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Rosamunde couldn’t put off the inevitable a moment longer, not when Stone was in so much pain. “Fine, but I’ll need some privacy.” She’d heard many stories over the centuries about the seductive nature of blood donation. Given her current desire for Stone and his clear craving for her, she suspected that a lot more than a mere kiss would follow.

Kaden nodded and with Joseph still sitting on his shoulder, she expected the pair to leave together. Instead, when Kaden moved away from the stone slab, Joseph remained levitating right where he was, a wicked glint in his eye.

But Kaden, called to him, “What am I going to do with you? Sweet Goddess!” When Joseph stayed put and even crossed his arms over his chest as though getting ready to watch the show, Kaden added, “Get your butt over here, little man, or I will wring your neck.”

“Fine.” Joseph, who could make more rude noises with his mouth than any realm-person Rosamunde had ever known, let loose with a wet rubbery sound somewhere between a raspberry and a cheek pop. “Have fun.”

Once Joseph reached Kaden, the pair vanished, another sign of Kaden’s essential power. Rosamunde kept wondering if what she suspected was true. Yet the last of the evil elf-lords had died at least two thousand years ago, maybe three.

Turning her attention back to Stone, she saw that his face was pinched in a painful grimace. His legs were now locked in painful cramps, a condition she understood very well. The poison appeared to be working in his body the way the elf-lord power always afflicted her lower limbs.

She wasn’t sure exactly what to do, but she held her wrist to his mouth. “I’m here, Stone. Take what you need.”

She thought she might have to encourage him, rub her skin against his lips or something. Instead, he must have smelled her blood because he grabbed her arm and opened his mouth. In a flash, his fangs appeared and he bit down on her.

A small cry left her throat before she could stop it. The nip didn’t really hurt and was over before it had begun, but the quick bite had taken her by surprise.

He had his lips around the wounds and was sucking hard.

Maybe too hard.

He could collapse the veins if he wasn’t careful. “Easy, Mastyr.”

His eyes shifted to her. He squinted and she saw that the whites were a dark red. Even the irises were discolored from the poison. Instead of the beautiful mossy-green she’d come to know they were almost amber. He barely looked like himself.

She pressed her free hand to his shoulder and let some of her own healing power flow into him. “You’re sucking too hard. Please, ease back a little.”

He breathed hard through his nose as though struggling, then finally gentled the pulls on her wrist.

She glanced at his legs and saw that the painful cramping of his muscles had begun to subside. Her blood must be working fast. She kept her healing power flowing as well.

Stone’s skin was the color of a golden tan. He had a lot of tattoos especially over his broad chest, mostly swirls of knife points. A wavy row of black leaves and thorns went from his right thigh to his ankle.

She let her gaze move all the way to his feet, then took her time on the return trip back up his legs. He had warrior limbs, sculpted with muscle and without hair of any kind. He was beautiful.

Her heart started to pound in her chest and she felt suddenly light-headed. At first, she wondered just how much blood Stone had taken. But she knew from long study that wrist-draws were fairly weak in terms of delivering a large amount of blood, especially for a mastyr vampire.

So, a loss of blood wasn’t what was causing her to feel a little faint.

Had to be Stone, himself.

As her gaze reached the well-defined muscles of his thighs, her breathing grew rough and out of nowhere a ripple of pleasure ran deep between her legs.

Sweet Goddess.

She couldn’t catch her breath. The response was so purely sexual, she couldn’t have mistaken it for anything else. She was grateful his private bits were covered up by the towel, though the lump of them had begun to expand. Again, a donor’s blood on a male vampire had very specific affects. His erect cock was lifting the towel.

Her rational mind had stalled out. She should look away, but she couldn’t help herself.

What was wolf and very physical took over. She could even feel the beginnings of a shift, that delicious sensation of energy racing through her muscles and bones. Her nostrils flared and her lips pulled back.

Aralynn, his mind called to her.

She met his gaze and growled softly, a low throaty sound that even to her own ears had the quality of an invitation.

His eyes were no longer pinched and their beautiful mossy color had returned. The whites were as they should be.

He stopped suckling and swiped his tongue over the wounds. Her forearm tingled with pleasure as the small cuts healed instantly.

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