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Zeph had made love to her for a long time after he’d fed. She felt well-used and sore in just the right places. She pulled the comforter up to her chin, then giggled.
She’d even opened a vein for him a second time, which seemed to have added to his stamina. She couldn’t recall just how many times he’d made her come—maybe a dozen.
He appeared in the doorway carrying two mugs, and looking sexy as hell with his black hair combed away from his face and hanging just above his shoulders. He wore a navy t-shirt and blue jeans. He’d already donned his usual black leather boots, the kind he’d worn last night, the kind he always wore when hunting the enemy.
Of course, she set those thoughts aside, the ones that had to do with what he did for a living.
“Want some coffee?” He smiled as he asked, then moved toward the bed.
She scooted to a sitting position, arranging the pillows behind her. She held out both hands. “I’d love some. Have you been up long? Geez, you look good. In fact, I don’t think you’ve ever looked better.” Maybe that much sex had put a glow on his skin.
When she took the mug, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips, then moved to sit beside her. He angled his body so she was able to see the deep pinch between his brows, a sure sign that something was troubling him.
“What is it?”
He sighed and sipped his brew. “I’ve been on the phone with Gerrod for the past half hour.” Mastyr Gerrod ruled the entire realm.
“With Mastyr Gerrod? Really? Is he going to send more of his Guard into our area to look for those wraith-pairs?”
“Actually, we didn’t discuss that.”
She wanted to ask him why not, but her faeness kicked in suddenly. She felt that he was about to tell her something she probably didn’t want to hear. He’d never looked more serious, not even when they’d argued about his belief he had a duty to kill any wraith-pair that got within ten feet of him.
Her nerves did a sudden summersault. “What did you talk about then?”
When he didn’t answer right away and the frown on his brow deepened, she reached out and touched his arm. “Tell me, Zeph. What’s going on?”
He lifted his gaze to her. “I haven’t had a single cramp in my stomach since you fed me the first time a few hours ago. Not one.”
The words went into her brain, but she couldn’t seem to process what he was telling her. She knew what all the mastyr vampires of the Nine Realms went through, that fairly small group of men, not more than a few hundred in number, who’d achieved mastyr status. Something about the increase in power made it impossible for their blood needs to ever be satisfied.
Until now.
There was only one type of woman who had the ability to resolve a mastyr’s chronic blood starvation, to bring an end to years and sometimes even centuries of constant suffering: a blood rose.
She stared at nothing in particular, her gaze skating over the beautiful paneled wall opposite, the fireplace burning three good-sized logs, a metal sculpture of a woman with long robes, arms flung back so that she appeared to be flying.
She couldn’t make sense of what he’d just told her.
Finally, she met his gaze once more. “I don’t understand.”
“Just think about it for a moment.”
“Well, I know that a blood rose can relieve the symptoms that a mastyr lives with.”
He didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, but his clear blue eyes had a haunted look.
She sipped her coffee, then shook her head. “Zeph, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not a blood rose. If you’re feeling better, it’s because you’d gone way too long without being fed, and you were close to dying. Besides, I can’t be a blood rose. I don’t have that kind of power.”
“All right, let me ask you this. Have you experienced any particular heaviness in your chest lately? Gerrod said Abigail felt that way before she first fed him, and still feels that way when he’s in need. Apparently, as a blood rose, she’s constantly producing a steady supply for him.”
She just stared at him.
He continued, “Gerrod also said that sex becomes an amazing ride, with the mastyr achieving greater stamina. Any of this sound familiar yet?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, disbelief rolling through her in the most painful way. “Oh, dear sweet Goddess, I’m a fucking blood rose.”
“I have no doubt that’s what you are.”
