Burning Blood

Moving up the bed, I leaned against the wall and gathered her close. “I’ve got you.” Wrapping my arm tight around her, I swiped away the hair that’d stuck to her brow. Her breathing was shallow and uneven—hurting so damn much.

Glancing around the room, I searched for something that could cut me—to give her the only thing I could. But the space was full of polished luxury with no sharp edges. Cream leather panels, softly curved walls, hidden compartments flush with the surfaces. Even the narrow side table didn’t hold anything that could make me bleed.

Whisper banged against the door again and I wished I hadn’t locked it. I could’ve made use of his fangs, but I couldn’t get up with Rook almost unconscious in my arms, so I did the only thing I could.

Bringing my finger to my mouth, I bit myself hard enough to break the skin.

Pushing the welling blood into her mouth, I commanded, “Swallow.”

She winced and mumbled something incomprehensible, trying to push me away.

I just held her tighter. “Swallow and you’ll feel better.”

I squeezed my finger, feeding more blood onto her tongue. Her throat worked. Removing my finger, I held her through the last of her shivers. Slowly, the pressure in my skull eased as her pain loosened its grip on both of us.

She murmured something I couldn’t catch.

Her glassy eyes met mine from where she lay on my chest and a wrenching tore through me. A violent yank on my heart as if an invisible thread shot from me to her—weaving around our bones and breath, binding us together—

She shuddered as if the force of whatever webbed between us was too strong, too much.

With a broken sound, her eyes rolled back.

She collapsed against me and...

Passed out.