Page 76 of The Serpent’s Shadow

“IT MIGHT BE PAINFUL,” I croaked, staring sidelong into Ravinica’s beautiful face. “I don’t want to put that on you.”

Her golden-flecked eyes flashed, lips twisting with a snarl that boiled what little blood I had in me. “Oh, shut up, you stubborn fool,” she chided. “A little pain to make sure you’re okay? Sign me up.”

I smiled weakly. I felt sticky with sweat, disgusting, yet her eyes never wavered, her lips never pinched with pity.

Ravinica was not going to let me wallow in misery, and I loved her for it. She was too strong for that, and knew what I had to offer when I was at full strength.

The blood-leechings had grown worse over the past few days, even before I’d joined the company to rescue my silvermoon. No matter how much the scientists in Fort Woden refilled my lifeblood before stealing more of it, the dark plasma they used was tainted and rotten.

My body had the ability to modify any blood source to make it my own. Regardless of the blood type, I could alter the genetic structure to make it safe to flow through my veins.

I had no idea how it worked—only that magical means kept me “alive.” In that, I was like a vampire, always needingmoreafter I Shaped with my blood or drained myself.

The best, most powerful source? It had to come from a living, breathing human. It was why draining Astrid had empoweredme so greatly, and why the bags of slop they used in the laboratory withered me.

Currently, I was a shell of my former self.

Exactly how the academy wanted me.

I wished to tell Ravinica everything. She had barged in here like a bat out of Hel, yet I knew there were some secrets better left alone.

I was doing this forher, after all—to guarantee her safety once she returned to the academy, so she wouldn’t have to always look over her shoulder for the nearest threat.

If Hersir Jorthyr stayed true to his word, the Warden of Vikingrune would not pursue my silver-haired mate thanks to me volunteering my blood to the academy.

They wanted itthatbadly. More than they even wanted information from Ravinica regarding the elves and whatever she had gleaned from them.

A wave of guilt passed through me. It was a foreign sensation, an emotion I wasn’t used to carrying, like all emotions. Staring into Ravinica’s face, knowing I was keeping things from her . . . it didn’t sit well with me.

“What must I do, Magnus?” she asked, leaning her face closer to mine.

“First, you can kiss me,” I said.

She paused, matching my smile. “Gladly.” Her fair cheeks filled with color.

Closing her eyes, she slanted her lips over mine. Her warm breath and the softness of her touch ignited my soul, calling forth a deep well of need inside me.

Too feeble to do anything about the surge of lust, I simply moaned into her mouth as her tongue flicked and slid against mine.

She took great care to be gentle with me, cradling the back of my head in her warm palm, rubbing my neck along the linesof my tattoos and lifted scars. It was something I never thought I’d need from the warrior woman—or something she was even capable of.

When she pulled away, slightly breathless, our eyes locked again. “I have a sneaking suspicion that had nothing to do with what you need from me,” she murmured close to my ear. “And I’m fine with that, you sneaky bastard.”

My lips lifted in a lopsided grin. “Nonsense. I need everything from you, silvermoon. That was only the first step.”

She chuckled, kissing my cheek and running her hair through the lank strands of my crimson hair. “Let me rephrase, then: I’m guessing that wasn’t the painful part.”

My smile faltered. I gave her a somber headshake. “If anything, it healed my pain, lass. I’ve been waiting too long to have your lips on mine again.”

A roguish glint flashed in her smoldering eyes. “How about having my thighs on yours?”

I groaned, fighting against the new bolt of lust that thickened my cock and pushed the sheets over my body outward. Sighing, I said, “Sadly, I think I am too depleted to give you the ravaging you deserve.”

Torrid memories of our time in Mimir Tomes played in my mind: tying her arms behind her, bending her over the table, folding her onto the ground as I pummeled her from above . . .

“Then let me help you, love.”

The memories and her soothing words made me harder, more ravenous. The parasitic sensation of my bloodless state—my own body working against me—pulled my remaining energy to a cavernous hole in my stomach. The itch of my blood made me uncomfortable, and I groaned from an ache throbbing in my head and cock.

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