Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I smooth my finger over his cut. “Does it hurt?”
“No. Not as long as I’m with you.”
Once we’re both dry, I lead him to my bed, where we lie down in each other’s arms and succumb to much-needed sleep.
Tomorrow we’ll resume our battle.
But tonight, we’ll just be.
53
I awake entangled in Rogan’s arms.
The blood lust hits me with a vengeance.
Our bodies are intertwined like two serpents wrestling. How easy it would be to slide on top of him, impale myself on his morning wood. But the hunger, the insatiable thirst gnawing at me, demands to be fed.
“Are you okay?” Rogan’s voice is sleepy.
“Fine,” I manage to croak out, struggling against the raw yearning strumming through my veins. The smell of him, warm and comforting, tempts me with a sweet promise of satiation.
My fangs snap down, and a vibrating growl curls out of my throat.
“Take what you need,” he growls.
I sink my teeth into the soft flesh of his neck, opening his carotid and letting his red gold flow over my tongue and down my throat. I’ve grown so accustomed to his dark nectar that nothing else tastes as good to me. Though my nutritional needs can be sated by any human or animal blood, only Rogan’s flows through me and strengthens me, fills me with a vitality that is both intoxicating and invigorating. His blood is my ambrosia, my heavenly syrup, and it nourishes not only me but our child inside my body. Yes, Alara said the child has no need of blood, but anything that strengthens me, makes me a better host for my baby, is a net gain for him.
I drink deeply, the rich taste of his life force hitting my palate like the finest of wines. I feel his strength pulsing through me, his life entwined with mine in a way that transcends more than mere survival. It’s an intimate sharing of ourselves, of our beings, a merging on a level so profound it’s almost spiritual.
Even though it’s not.
He’s not my soul mate. I need to remember that.
He gasps softly and digs his fingers into my hair, and I know he feels it too—the throbbing connection, binding us together in a web spun from love and necessity if not fate. His heart pounds under my touch.
“Enough,” he finally murmurs.
Reluctantly, I pull away, my fangs retracting with a painful slowness. I could easily drain him, so inebriating is his blood. I lick the small wounds closed and then cradle his face, gently wiping away the bead of blood trickling from the bite mark on his neck. I press a soft kiss to it, an apology and thank you bound in a single act. His blood still dances on my tongue as I pull back to study his face.
Rogan’s eyes flutter open, the green depths infused with warmth and trust. “You’re insatiable.”
I chuckle as I trace patterns against his chest. His skin is warm under my touch, and his heartbeat flickers under my hand.
“When you’re involved, definitely.” I press my lips against his, not in search of sustenance this time, but in celebration of our raw connection of lust and love.
Rogan runs his hands through my hair as he deepens the kiss.
I lose myself in the exquisite mixture of affection, desire, and a pinch of desperation. Every moment we share is a stolen one as long as Rogan belongs to Eris.
He breaks the kiss. “I do love you,” he whispers against my lips.
The raw and heartfelt confession echoes through the silent room like a sacred vow.
“I love you too,” I reply. “But I’m not naïve, Rogan. I know what’s coming. You and I both have important roles to play, and so does our child.”
“Our child?”
“Yeah, according to Alara, anyway.”
“Right. Alara. I’m sure she’s great and all, but I don’t know her from Eve, and while I appreciate her taking care of you, I—”
I touch his lips to silence him. “She showed me powers I never knew I possessed, Rogan. Whatever I must do, I will do it. If it means facing Eris. If it means facing my stepfather. Even my father. I’ll do it. I’ll do it because it’s my destiny.”
“Destiny…” He closes his eyes. “If we’re going to use terms like ‘destiny,’ I should return to Eris.”
“No!” I shout.
“Destiny is a fool’s errand, Hannah. Destiny means that we are pawns in a grander scheme, that we have no free will, no true agency. We’re more than that.” He tightens his fingers in my hair. “If my encounter with Eris taught me anything, it’s that we aren’t bound by the whims of fate but by our choices. Our love, our commitment to each other and our child—that’s what binds us, princess. And that’s what I choose.”
His words echo in the silence. I stare into his eyes, lost in the depths of emerald-green.