He hesitates, clearly fighting the command. I’ll regret this tomorrow, too. I close my eyes so I don’t have to see him stalk out of the room, and I almost manage to contain my flinch at the way the door slams behind him.
Wolf shifts behind me and I open my eyes. “I’m angry at you, too.”
“Be angry later. You need this.”
I ignore his uncharacteristic seriousness and focus on Rylan. “Sit down before you fall down.”
“Is that an order?” It’s a token of how out of it he is that his question is barely tinged with frost instead of its normal iciness.
I slump back against Wolf despite my best efforts. Damn it, he’s right. I need more blood. I’m dizzy and everything feels like it’s too far away. “You want to collapse because of pride? Suit yourself.”
Wolf presses his forearm to my lips. “Drink.”
I do, greedy pulls of his blood into me. I don’t know if it’s because Wolf’s Bloodline controls power over blood or if I’m just feeling better already, but I can actually sense it healing me. I take two more pulls and then push his arm away. “That’s enough.”
“It’s not enough.” Wolf’s arms tense around me as if he’s considering restraining me, but he finally lets them drop.
I fight my way to the edge of the bed and stand on shaking legs. Even with Rylan and Wolf’s blood coursing through me, I’m not going to be okay for a bit. But I’m alive and walking around, so that’s more than enough.
I stagger to Rylan, stopping just out of reach. For the first time since it snapped into place, the bond is quiet. It won’t last; I know that now. I’m still going to appreciate the reprieve.
For his part, Rylan looks just as shell-shocked as I feel. His body has gone back to normal. Vampire teeth. Human hands, not a claw in sight. I hesitate. “Are you okay?”
His smile holds no mirth. “I should be asking you that question.” His gaze lingers on my neck. I don’t know him well enough to read his expression, but it looks almost tormented. “This fucking bond. I don’t lose control. Not like that.”
“I’m fine.” My gravely tone threatens to make a liar out of me. I gingerly touch my fingertips to the newly healed skin of my neck. “By tomorrow, there won’t be a mark.”
“Mina—”
I let my hand drop. I don’t want his apologies. I’m not certain that’s what he’s about to say, but I don’t give him a chance. “Come on. We need to clean up.” The bed is ruined. Blood soaks the entire mattress. Changing the sheets won’t help. I glance at Wolf. “Do you mind airing out the spare bedroom? I think we have some sheets left over from the last shopping trip.” They’re always on the list since we go through them so often. Blood is a hell of a stain to try to get out, but the real problem is that they keep getting torn up when our bedroom games get rough.
His pale gaze flicks between me and Rylan. Finally, he climbs off the bed and gives a theatrical bow. “As the lady commands.”
“It wasn’t a—” He’s gone before I can finish. I sigh. “It wasn’t a command.”
“Semantics.” Rylan still doesn’t sound like himself. The icy distance that I find strangely comforting is nowhere in evidence. He doesn’t even argue as I nudge him in the direction of the bathroom.
I’m weaving on my feet, exhaustion pulling at my body, but it feels important to do this. The why matters less than following my instincts in this situation, so I turn on the water, wait for it to heat up, and then give Rylan another nudge.
Again, he doesn’t argue. He simply steps into the shower. But he catches my hand and tows me in after him. Neither of us speak. He doesn’t comment on the way I scrub the blood off his chest and neck. I don’t make note how his leaning on me suggests that he’s nowhere near as okay as he said.
By the time we’re done, I can barely keep my eyes open.
Strangely enough, I’m not remotely surprised to find Wolf and Malachi waiting for us. Wolf wraps a towel around me and sweeps me off my feet, carrying me out of the room with quick strides.
Not quickly enough to avoid hearing Malachi’s low words to Rylan. “I told you so.”
Chapter 4
I wake to the sound of voices. The men are in the next room, talking softly. I roll onto my back and open my eyes, staring up into the darkness of the bedroom. It would be the easiest thing in the world to pull the covers over my head and ignore what happened last night. What it signifies. Even if we ran to the very ends of the earth opposite each other, the bond would eat away at us until…
Could it kill us?
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but that was before it physically propelled me across the room to Rylan. Before it made him forget himself enough to partially shift.
I could let the vampires deal with this current mess. They’re all older and more powerful than I am. I’m a fool if I think I can stand on equal footing with them in the coming confrontation, bond or no. They will always be stronger, always be more powerful.
If I hide, I’ll remain a pawn for the rest of my life, however long or short that ends up being. Dhampirs live longer than humans, but they aren’t borderline immortal like full vampires. I have no idea what the seraph lifespan looks like.
The list of what I don’t know only seems to grow longer with time, instead of shorter.
I sit up and sigh. There’s no help for it. The easy way isn’t the right way, and I’ve fought too hard for anything resembling freedom to simply hand off all the decision-making process to others. They might be more powerful, but I’m the linchpin in this mess.
Another soundless sigh and I leave the warmth of the bed and pull on the nearest piece of clothing—one of Malachi’s shirts. He’s updated his wardrobe a bit since we left the house, but he still favors the shirts that look like they’d be perfectly at home on historical romance novel covers. I like them. A lot. I’m swimming in all the white fabric, his tobacco and clove scent nearly as comforting as when he wraps his arms around me.
I’m still angry about last night. It irritates me to no end that I want him to comfort me while I’m mad at him. I inhale again, letting the last of my reservations fall away. As tempting as it is to hide from reality, I know all too well the reality will burst through the door without an invitation. Better to deal with things head-on.
The men haven’t stopped talking, but with their superior senses, they all know I’m awake and moving around. I pad barefoot out of the spare bedroom, down the hall, and into the sitting room where they’ve got a fire going.
Rylan is standing by the window, the light of the early morning putting his features in stark contrast. He looks as tired as I feel, his cheekbones a little too gaunt on his handsome face. Wolf lounges on one of the chairs. He’s got his leg dangling over the arm like an indolent king waiting to be entertained. Malachi sits on the couch, his elbows braced on his thighs. All three look at me with varying degrees of wariness.
I stop short. “We need to talk about last night.”
Malachi holds out a hand, motioning for me to join him on the couch. I almost go to him through sheer habit, actually take a step in his direction, before the memories of last night crash over me again. How he looked like he was going to murder Rylan. How I magically compelled him to leave the room against his will.