Page 95 of Desired for Her Blood
He stops, rolling his huge head and then rubbing the side of his snout against her body. She takes his head in her hands, and bends toward him, and my heart nearly stops.
From here, it looks like she is literally offering her head on a platter to him, positioning it in front of his massive jaws, which could rip it off in one bite.
But the beast pauses as she looks into his eyes, then his haunches lower.
She strokes the top of his head and he bends his front limbs too, lowering himself to lie on his belly in front of her.
Even prone on the cave floor, the beast’s head comes up to the middle of her body. The bear rubs his snout across her body as she strokes him, and then she lowers herself to kneel in front of him. His head is higher than hers now.
Leaning forward to embrace him, Ember whispers into his ear, and although it seems intrusive, I listen, justifying that I must keep her safe—although I do not know what I could do to stop him, if he decides to eat her.
“I know you’re scared,” she whispers softly. “But you’re not going to lose me. I promise. I won’t let it happen.”
The bear snorts. One of his paws lifts from the stone and lands on her back.
Ryker’s hand grabs my arm and I turn toward him, only now realizing that I was about to run forward again. It’s clear Ryker trusts the bear not to kill her.
“I think Zuben is right,” she says softly. “I think this will work on the third try. That poem he knows suggests that it might, and so far Zuben’s theories have panned out.”
He snorts.
“Even if it doesn’thaveto be you,” she says, “Iwantit to be you. If I’m going to become a vampire, I want all three of you to be part of that.”
His huge body shifts, and she adjusts her embrace, her hands trailing through his fur as she comforts him.
“I love the idea that you three turn me together,” she says. “That way we’ll always be connected in this deeper way.”
He pulls his head out of her hold, looks out toward the pool for a long time, and then lies his head down on the stone.
She strokes him gently.
Has the bear fallen asleep? We do not have time for naps, and certainly not hibernation.
An explosion rumbles through the granite. Ember leaps to her feet. But wherever the explosives detonated, the blast did not cause further destabilization inside the cave. Not so I can see, in any case.
A roar draws my attention back to Axel. His body contorts, his spine violently bending forward and back, and sounds echo, as if his vertebrae are snapping.
Ember backs away and Ryker beats me to her side, wrapping his arms around her from behind as we all watch Axel’s transformation. At least I hope that is what we’re watching, because it seems more to me like we are witnessing his death.
He screams, a sound not of bear or man, but composed entirely of anguish, and Ember turns her face into Ryker’s chest as he cups her head and holds her against him.
But I can’t tear my eyes away from the process. I never imagined the extent of torture involved in shifting, and cannot imagine why it would be done voluntarily. Is it always this torturous? Or is it worse since he became a vampire hybrid?
I have so many questions, and frustration grows inside me that I must wait for my answers.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ember
The ground trembleswith another explosion, but it’s nothing compared to the ones detonating inside my body. Axe’s fangs are piercing my vein, his lips latched over my throat as he gulps.
My eyes remain open, but I can no longer see, no longer hear, no longer feel Axe’s touch as he holds my head with one hand and cradles my body with the other. The only thing I can sense is my blood rushing to escape my body into his.
Even as the last of my blood drains out of my system and my heart slows with nothing left to pump, I feel so alive. Axe’s fangs withdraw, and I cry out, reaching up. But then I realize that those actions only exist in my mind, in a self-contained video of what my bodywantsto be doing,shouldbe doing, but I can’t move.
Zuben and Ryker join Axe at my sides. All three of them now caressing my body, with strokes I sense but can’t fully feel, whispering encouraging words I can’t fully hear.
Yet I cansensethese actions somehow—their voices, their touch, their scents—but it’s all so strange—as if everything’s heightened and muted at once, like I’ve been suspended in a layer of conductive liquid that joins us.
