Page 54 of The Fated Hunter Wolf
I ripped it free.
Her body crumpled at my feet, lifeless before she hit the ground. Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by my ragged breathing. The sound of Rhys's heartbeat echoed through the bond. I turned toward where he hung from the silver chains, his eyes open and watching my every move.
“How?” he asked, voice barely audible.
I approached carefully, preparing my magic to work on the vampire restraints.
“How did you find me? How did you move that fast? How did you…” He nodded weakly at the vampire ash. “How did you kill them so easily?”
The chains fell away under my touch. Rhys collapsed forward and I caught him, his weight solid and real against me.
“I followed the bond,” I said, not entirely a lie, as I set him down on the ground and sat beside him. “It might be damaged, but it’s still there.”
Even as I spoke, I could see him catching up. The way the silver hadn’t burned me. The speed. The recognition in the vampires’ voices.
“You’re hurt,” I said, taking inventory of his injuries. Vampire venom had left dark veins spreading across his chest. Silver burns marked his wrists and ankles. Blood loss had drained the color from his face.
“I’ll live.”
I could feel his weakness through our connection, the way the venom fought against his natural healing. Without intervention, he’d be dead within hours.
“No,” I said quietly. “You won’t.”
I bit into my wrist before I could think too hard about what I was doing. Dark blood welled up, and I pressed it to his lips.
“Drink.”
He tried to pull away. “Sable, what?—”
“The venom will kill you. My blood will neutralize it.” I let command creep into my voice. “Drink.”
His lips parted, and I pressed my bleeding wrist to his mouth. The moment my blood touched his tongue, the phantom bond jolted awake.
Real warmth spread through the connection I’d tried to sever.
His eyes widened as he tasted me. He should have recoiled. Any sane wolf would have been revolted by drinking blood, even to save his own life. Instead, his hand came up to cradle my wrist, fingers gentle against skin that should have been burning him with silver magic.
The intimacy caught me off guard. My blood carrying pieces of what I was into him, all the secrets I’d never shared.
I felt each pull as he drew life from my veins. The bond pulsed stronger, but so did something else—something that made my breath catch and my wolf pace beneath my skin.
At first, Rhys drank with careful control, his grip on my wrist almost gentle. But then something shifted. His fingers tightened, bruising-hard, and a low growl rumbled from his chest. When I tried to pull back, his other hand shot up and clamped around the back of my neck, holding me in place.
"Rhys—"
Another growl, deeper this time, vibrating against my skin. His eyes flickered open—wolf-gold and wild, the color nearly swallowed by black. He wasn't lookingatme anymore. His gaze was unfocused, distant, like he'd slipped somewhere beyond reason.
His mouth worked against my wrist, no longer just drinking but consuming—tongue, teeth and desperate pulls that sparked heat low in my belly. My body responded before my brain could stop it—wetness, aching need, the traitorous urge to drag him closer even though every instinct screamed this was dangerous.
Control yourself. This means nothing.
But I couldn't look away and couldn't pull free.
He lifted his head, blood smeared across his mouth, and my heart kicked hard against my ribs. His expression was raw, unhinged—all predator, no restraint. For a moment I thought he might lunge, might sink his teeth into my throat instead.
Then his lips moved. "You have a—" His voice cracked, barely human, the words torn from somewhere deep and unconscious. His eyes went hazy, unseeing. "Beautiful soul."
The softness of it didn't match the wildness in his face. Like two different versions of him speaking at once.
