Page 22 of Her Blood Revenge

I won’t further arm her without giving us the strength we need to keep her and us safe. Even if her Kedar familiar would protect her when we could not, that thing could still bite us and put us all on our arses as she made a run forit.

She sweeps her hair over her shoulder and exposes her neck. The thrumming of her pulse and the scent of her skin hits me and goes straight to my cock.

Shit… this fucking girl.

‘Agreed,’ she says. ‘Do it.’

I hate how her voice breaks when she speaks, but she’s prepared to do what she must to get her way. As she always has been.

I rest my hand on her hip and run my thumb along her jawline. Her skin erupts in goosebumps, and she lets out a sharp exhale at such a slight touch. But despite her body’s reaction, she steps away, shaking her head.

‘Just drink, Dream Walker. I don’t want you to touch me.’

That’s a lie. Her body hummed as soon as it felt me.

I step closer. All I fucking want is to touch her. To throw her down and ravage her in the dirt she loves.

My fangs sharpen at the mere idea, and I take her cheek in my hand, my thumb caressing back and forth, creating more goosebumps for her to enjoy.

‘Please,’ she says quietly, unable to look at me. ‘Please don’t touch me. Just feed and step away. Please.’

There’s a desperation to her I’ve not heard before, and I wonder if, perhaps, her body is betraying her just as much as ours did when we first played with her. We loathe blood witches. Find them vile and repulsive. But when I touched her for the first time, my skin erupted in those same little bumps now coating her flesh. My body ached for hers. My cock was hard in an instant, and her scent consumed my mind, body and soul. And her taste… fuck… every taste has been as phenomenal as that first.

But I was supposed to hate her. Make her pay. She was to be put in the cell and left there to serve no purpose other than to feed us, perform that spell, suffer and die.

That was the plan.

But when we held her in the woods and placed our marks on her, we all knew that was never going to happen. The cell we had prepared wasn’t an option; instead, we gave her a bedroom. Hell, we made her food and gave her clothing!

Despite everything inside us screaming that it was wrong.

That she was the enemy.

Now, we are her enemy. But she has tasted us just as we have tasted her. I wonder if she fears our touch, not because she doesn’t want it, but because she does and can’t accept that she loves us.

I lower my hands and ball them into fists. She exposes her neck for me, and I bite, piercing her flesh easily. She doesn’t wince but stands statue-like as her blood pools in my mouth. I swallow three times before she steps back.

She can’t even look at me.

Archie drops the axe and takes his fill. His fingers flex as he fights every urge he has to grab that girl and make her beg for more.

Again, three swallows, and she steps back. Dorian and her meet in the middle of the room.

He looks down at her, his darkness stirring.

‘You feel what I feel,’ she says. ‘That link between us is still there, isn’t it?’

‘It is,’ he replies.

My insidestwist with jealousy at the bond they share. The Shadow Master and his necromancer. Both with one foot in the beyond.

‘Do you enjoy feeling it?’ she asks him. ‘What you did to me? Feeling my pain?’

‘Compared to the nothingness I felt after Neve killed you,’ he breathes, stepping closer. ‘I adore it. Every drop of anger and hatred. Every ounce of pain. I’ll drown in it gladly.’

She tilts her head to the side and he claims his fill.

Three mouthfuls, and he pulls back. His entire aura settles as he regains complete control over the shadows inside. Her wound heals, and she returns her gaze to the window.

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