Page 55 of Trapped for Her Blood
“That’s what I’d like to know.” Gracen whistles again. “She’s got someone orsomethingelse on her side. Something evil and powerful and ancient.” A shiver traces through Gracen, seeming so out of place in the tough female.
If Octavia is colluding with a more powerful vampire with ancient knowledge, it might explain her interest in my research, why she believes the stories of the Illuminant are more than just myth.
I was foolish to think her interest was ever benign curiosity.
And this knowledge I have gained makes getting Ember out of here even more urgent. Octavia will soon know there’s a human trapped in her dungeon, and it will not take long for her to connect the proverbial dots all the way to Ember.
“Has anyone ever escaped from this place?” I ask Gracen.
“No one,” she answers. “Not ever.”
Chapter Seventeen
Axel
Staring at the ground,I pound my fists against my thighs, hoping it might tame my raging urge to kiss Ember, to hold her, tofuckher, but it only makes my cock bounce against my belly, adding to the log’s demands.
What my body wants now, it’s only one of the reasons I hate my curse and avoid drinking blood.
“What’s wrong?” she calls out.
I turn to find her kneeling on the furs, looking at me with so much compassion my heart aches, and my longing to take her into my arms intensifies.
Like some kind of enchanted princess, not only did Ember awaken me from my many years of hibernation, she also woke feelings inside me, slumbering since my Ulla died.
Grabbing a wolf pelt and a rope, I fashion the fur to camouflage my erection, even if nothing can hide it completely. My cock terrifies Ember. That’s clear from the way that she looks at it.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter a generic apology on my cock’s behalf. I willneverlet it enter her body, but she does not yet understand that, or why.
“Don’t be sorry,” she says softly.
Glancing toward her, I discover she’s now standing, but mercifully she’s giving me a little space.
I need the distance between us, because what I want is to feel every inch of her body pressed against mine. What I want is to touch every part of her; I want to taste her honey and to feel the damp heat and soft texture between her legs as it envelops my fingers—and then my cock.
But I can’t have what I want. Not ever.
“I thought you were about to kiss me,” she says softly. “Can we at least talk about it?” She shivers in the cold and so I return to stoke the fire, and then carefully put the woolen point blanket over her shoulders.
The action moves my body dangerously close to hers, but I stay there, not able to make myself let go of the blanket’s edges yet.
The point blanket reminds me of my old life, and the sight of the deep red wool over her feminine shoulders brings back so many memories of my mate, even though Ulla looked nothing like, and was far sturdier than the fragile Ember.
“You look so sad,” she says, looking up at me. “Maybe it would help to talk about it?”
Her violet eyes gaze into mine, and my affection for this woman climbs like a mountain rising up from the earth. Her combination of bravery and compassion, her uncanny ability to read my emotions, moves me deeply and makes me feel as if I’ve known her since the beginning of time.
“Let’s sit.” I lower myself to the wolf pelts.
As she sits, I guide her between my bent legs, facing away from me, and I’m careful to keep her body far from my erection, shifting it to the opposite side of my pelvis from where her blanket-covered back risks touching it.
“I can’t see your face from here,” she says with a hint of complaint, but then she sighs, relaxing into the warmth.
It will be easier to resist her if I can’t see her face—I hope. “Sitting between my body and the fire will help warm you more quickly.”
“You’re right about that.” Her shoulders rise as she sighs again. “It’s so cozy here in your arms. You make me feel safe.”
I snort.
