Page 46 of Revenge of the Blood Pack

More than that, his actions have led to this moment. Actions that are easy to see by the bodies flung about in front of the building. I want to talk to him. I want to find out what happened here. Some small part of me hopes it wasn’t him, that this is all some kind of mistake, but another part of me knows I’m being a fool.

“Asha,” Max whispers my name and my gaze goes to him. “I don’t want to rush you, but we need to get in there before anyone else is hurt. And before Grim and his crew find a way to get in.”

I nod, thinking about the creepy leprechaun. “Okay.”

Leaning away from Braxton, I try not to lock eyes with Max as I tilt his head. For a moment, I just stare at his pulse. I know vampires find pulses tempting. Mesmerizing. But I kind of look at his pulse like I’d look at a man’s cock. A cock by itself is nothing, maybe even a little gross when you spot the tiny, hairy ones or the crooked ones that seem to be saying, “Aye, Matey!” while you stare at them. But a cock on a man you want? It’s more than a little tempting. And, right now, I want to taste Max in more ways than just this.

But since that isn’t right, I lean in slowly, having to destroy any personal bubble I ever imagined having as my hot breath caresses his skin. Unable to help myself, I lick his pulse, and he makes a sound, like a groan being cut off. Which, fucking hell, turns me on even more.

Slowly, I feel my fangs elongate, and I lean forward and pierce his soft skin. The instant his blood enters my mouth, I’m lost.Fuck. Had I tried to forget the taste?I’m pretty sure I had. But now it flows through me, erotic, sensual, spellbinding. Max might as well be a warlock because I’m instantly under his spell.

Shifting, I move and climb on top of him so that I’m straddling him. This time, he does groan, pulling me closer, so close that I feel his erection.

His. Erection.

The stoic Max wants me. He’s enjoying this too, and the knowledge does something crazy to me. I feel my nipples harden, and I press them against his chest, loving how they feel against his muscular body. He adjusts how he’s sitting so his erection presses even harder against my core, and I want to fucking tear off his clothes and ride him to completion. It’s been so long, and for some reason, I need this man.

“Isn’t that enough?” Braxton sounds breathless beside us. “Don’t drink too much, Asha.”

Nothing else could have shaken me from my desire, but I pull fangs back out of Max’s throat. I don’t want to drain him too far. I don’t want to leave him weak in a dangerous situation.

“You don’t have to stop,” he growls, and yellow rings his eyes.

My wolf practically purrs inside of me. Or, at least, she would purr if she was a cat. But what she wants me to do with this man is as clear as day.

Braxton pulls down one side of his shirt as he moves closer to us, revealing his throat. “Feed.”

I don’t climb off of Max. Instead, I lean over and let my teeth sink into his brother’s neck. And if I thought I was hot before, I’m on fire now. His blood tastes sweeter than Max’s, not quite as smooth, but sweet, like a dessert. Between the two of them, I’m having a banquet the likes of which I’ve never had before.

Braxton wraps his hand into the back of my hair, drawing me closer, and then I feel Max’s hands close over my breasts. Max begins to slide against my core, rubbing his hard erection against me so hard that I feel like we’re trying to start a fire. But I can barely think. I just want to pull him out and ride his fucking cock while drinking from Braxton.

Their blood fills me, igniting my desire. And my power.

Damn it.I can feel it now. And it really is a fire inside of me, only a different one. A fire of magic. Blue and flickering inside of me. But I can sense more than that. I can sense within that power a desire for more. For destruction. For death.

It’s why I don’t like to use these powers the mages gave us. They’re trouble.

I break from Braxton’s neck, and both men are leaning back on the seat, looking content. No, not content, aroused. And while I’ve never thought much about the idea of having more than one mate, I think about it now. I imagine the three of us making a very delicious sandwich, a sandwich in which I’m in the middle.

A shudder rolls through me.

“Asha,” Braxton whispers my name, and I get the feeling he’s going to say something important. Something that might frighten me.

But then there are shouts from outside the SUV, and I launch away from them, scrambling out of the SUV. Outside, Clinton is standing on the steps of the apartment building, and he’s holding one woman against him, while he has his hands wrapped in the hair of another woman who is near his feet. His eyes are black, swirling in a way I’ve only ever seen from the Blood Mages who imprisoned us, and it makes me sick.

I start forward, pushing my way to the barrier. The barrier that the others hadn’t seemed to be able to see, but that I could see perfectly. It’s black, like a sticky spider web over part of the street and sidewalk outside the apartment building, and then over the entire building itself. That’s why no one could get in. It’s made with powerful dark magic—magic I can hear calling to me, singing to me like a fucked-up siren.

Reaching the edge of it, I lift a hand.

“Asha.” It’s Max, but I don’t look back at him. “Be careful.”

I nod, then reach my hand further and further. As I touch the black webbing, the voices in my head grow louder, asking, demanding answers from me. And so, I tell them. I tell them to let me through.

And they do.

The web parts in front of me like a curtain, and I step through as the curtain closes once more behind me. I move closer to Clinton, already knowing that he’s overwhelmed by the voices and by the magic the blood has brought him. The boy I know would never have done this.

“Clinton.” I say his name. I don’t whisper it, but say it gently.

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