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“Guys,” Jolon chastised, and the line quieted.
“Though you can’t feel the bond, am I no longer your alpha?” Dason questioned. “If I said I need a few hours, then I need a few hours.”
“Call when you’re ready,” Jolon replied, not asking questions. There seemed to be an alpha understanding between him and Dason. Instinctually, he knew there was more going on than what Dason was sharing, but safety was paramount. He wasn’t going to press for more, and I loved him a little more for it.
Dason hung up, not listening to the protests still being waged on the other end of the line, and with a flash of magick, he stored away his phone.
Prowling toward the bed, he sat on the edge, pulled back the sheets, and waited until I gave him permission to join me.
There might have been beds in the other rooms I hadn’t yet explored in this house, but I wanted him close. I was woman enough to admit that I wouldn’t be able to sleep without him. He made me feel safe, and right now that won out over modesty, propriety, or the fact that our relationship was new and confusing.
I allowed myself to take the comfort and protection he offered.
“Now what?” I whispered, enjoying the muted golden light of the sunset glowing around his chiseled form.
Dason settled on the pillow, inches away. “Now we wait for nightfall.”
Fourteen
Lorn
The sheets tangled around my legs as I tossed and turned. Disturbing images kept flashing through my mind—daggers, blood, fangs, pleasure, and hunger. It all melded into a nightmare I couldn’t wake from.
“Lorn.” Dason’s sleep worn voice infiltrated the images, intertwining with the pictures until I didn’t know reality from memory. “You’re having a bad dream. Come on,” he coaxed, “open your eyes.”
I whimpered, trying to do as he instructed.
My stomach rolled with hunger, and I panted as Dason pulled me into his arms to stop my thrashing.
“Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you,” he murmured over and over, calming the raging storm within me until I could open my eyes.
My slow heartbeat pounded hard against my sternum, and my lungs drew in lungful after lungful of air.
My stomach twinged painfully, reacting to the decadent scent of Dason’s blood, but I pushed it away.
“They touched me, didn’t they?” I didn’t want to ask, but all I could feel in my sleep were the vampires’ cold hands on my body, the touch unfamiliar while I’d been lost in a sex induced haze.
Nightmares were my body’s way of handling the stress, a quiet moment of subconscious reflection in the whirlwind that had been the last twenty-four hours.
“They’ll never hurt you again.” Dason pulled me closer while I closed my eyes and let the tears leak out.
“I’m sorry I did that to you.” Guilt ate at me. I’d injected Dason with that same erotic venom, a phenomenon I couldn’t control in my need to eat. Still, it made me sick to think I might have taken advantage of him during my first feeding. The venom was a powerful force. It was easy to get lost in the pleasure it offered—something we’d both succumbed to.
“Don’t apologize. We agreed to feed from each other. Taking in your magick creates a high all its own, it wasn’t just the venom. Besides, it’s common knowledge that there are sexual benefits from a vampire bite. I gave you permission to feed from me knowing the venom’s effects. You gave those bastards no such permission.”
I curled into his warm chest and let him hold me while I cried. It didn’t matter that I could only remember bits and pieces of the vulnerability they’d stolen. It didn’t make the violation less wrong or the aftermath less painful. In fact, not being able to remember made it worse. Pieces of my life had been stolen from me, missing in a void of injury, pain, and induced lust.
“They’re going to pay for what they did.” Dason’s arms tightened around me.
I didn’t know what kind of person it made me that I took comfort from his violent promise, but my body relaxed slowly until I melted into his warm embrace.
“You’re a survivor, Lorn. The world keeps throwing more at you, and you keep taking it and handling it like a boss.” He kissed the crown of my head and then murmured, “No.” He shook his head, keeping me snug against his body. “Like an alpha,” he purred.
I buried my nose into his chest and breathed in the clean, musky scent of him, the dark chocolate notes of his blood teasing my senses and making my gums ache. I held my fangs back, and deep within me, my primal spirit stirred. It was small, a mere spark in the darkness, but it was there, and I latched onto it, holding tightly to the small vestige of who I was a day ago.
“I hope I can be that person again,” I murmured quietly.
“You’re still that person, don’t doubt that.”
