Page 77 of The Lycans: Vol Four

I heard a voice. Feminine. But my hearing was so fucked that it was all jumbled.

And then I scented her. It was hard to make out anything aside from the fact that she was female. My mind wasn’t working at full capacity, I was too fucking weak, and all the other surrounding scents clouded too much. But as she got closer, her aroma became stronger.

Hyacinth.

“Calm down,” she said, and I bared my fangs again, holding out a hand to keep her away. I’d never been called a good guy and had killed my fair share in my long years of living, but right now she smelled too perfect for me not to hurt.

Good enough to drain dry.

I clamped my jaw the closer she got, shaking my head and squeezing my eyes tight. I opened and closed my mouth, trying to tell her to stay away but I couldn’t form a fucking word. I didn’t want to kill her but I was hungry enough I would.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

No, but I’m going to hurt you.

Gods, her smell.

My mouth watered at the very idea of how good she’d taste, how thick and rich her blood would be as it covered my tongue and slid down the back of my throat. My stomach cramped painfully, this stinging sensation covering my arms and legs, my fingers and toes.

My vision cleared for a fraction, my gaze now latched on to the side of her throat, where I could see her jugular throbbing.

I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my arm over them, the limb feeling like it was filled with lead.

And then she came closer, my fangs aching and every feral, predatory part of me telling me to drain her dry and become stronger.

She touched my arm and I snapped.

She was so good, better than anything I’d ever tasted, the sweetest wine. I flattened my body against hers and felt how soft and feminine she was.

Her blood rushed through my veins and I felt my strength rise up tenfold, growing and growing until it roared in my head.

And still I drank my fill, swallowing mouthfuls at a time. I could feel her struggle against me. But I was too greedy, too hungry to stop.

I moaned. She was tiny, soft.

She was…

Oh fuck.

I ripped away from her and panted, leaning back on my haunches to stare down at her. My heart was beating overtime, her blood rushing to every part of my body and knitting, healing everything from the inside out.

With every passing second my vision became clearer, crisper. I could see every minute detail in the dark cave, every little detail of her.

She had long cornsilk-colored hair, big seafoam eyes, and pouty red lips that were currently pursed as if she were… pissed.

And with each passing second, her horrified expression turned to one of anger. She lifted her hand and touched the side of her throat, and I lowered my gaze to stare as she pulled her blood-covered fingers away.

I touched my fingers to my lips, looked down at the digits, and a harsh noise left me as I saw that red covered the pads.

I’d just… I’d just attacked my female. I damn near fucking drained her dry.

“Get off,” she hissed.

I spied tiny fangs as she cursed me, but instantly rolled off of her. Her hair fell over her shoulder as she pushed herself up, and that’s when I spied tiny pointed ears.

“This is what I get for saving your life?” She narrowed her eyes at me before walking over to the fire and crouching to riffle through a bag. She pulled out a rag and pressed it to her throat, cutting a withering glare at me. “Who knew my mate was such an asshole?”

The End.

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