Page 37 of Hunting His Vampire Mate

“We could do that,” I agreed. “Or you could give me a little of your blood. That ought to heal it, too.”

Danny blinked at me, startled. “You’re really suggesting that?”

I shrugged. “I mean, why not?”

Danny bit his lip. “Look, Michael… I—I don’t feel any different now. Drinking your blood, it didn’t—the thing is, I don’t—” He broke off, grimacing. He dropped his gaze to the ground. “The thing is, I can’t hear you in my head or anything like that.”

“That’s okay.”

And it was. That didn’t matter. Danny and I were already connected, and we always would be. I would never willingly leave his side. Not unless he asked me to.

“Are you sure?”

I cupped his face with my hand, bringing his gaze up to meet mine.

“I’m sure. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire fucking life. I don’t give a shit about a blood bond—you’re the only thing that matters. And if I hadn’t been such an idiot, I would’ve told you that way before now.”

Relief flooded into his expression, and he snorted, shaking his head in amazement at me. “Right. I keep forgetting. If it helps, we’re both complete idiots.”

“Idiots in love,” I reminded him. “The best kind.”

He rolled his eyes a little at that, but he smiled too. And his fangs dropped again—he must’ve been getting better control of it now, because it seemed like he did it on purpose—and he bit the palm of his hand with his fangs.

Then he held it up to me.

“I guess we’re into bloodplay now,” I joked, hoping to draw at least a laugh from him.

But all I got was a small, tense smile. He looked almost unhappy.

“I just wish…” He grimaced. “For a second, I thought that maybe we were—”

“It’s okay. Seriously.”

I brought his palm up to my lips with both hands. His blood was pooled there, so dark it was nearly black.

“Michael, wait,” Danny said, stopping me. “If this doesn’t work, I need to know—are you going to leave?”

I could feel my whole face scrunch with confusion. His question was ridiculous. “You’re asking me this now?”

Years of vulnerability that I’d always sensed but had never really seen all bubbled to the surface in his expression. “Look, I just need to know, okay?”

Something went soft and molten in my chest.

“I’m all in,” I reminded him. “I was, from the moment I realized you were going to come back to me. That I hadn’t lost you for good. Nothing else matters to me right now, except making sure you’re going to be okay. And an entire fucking nest of ravenous vampires couldn’t drag me away from you, Danny.”

The strength of my feelings must’ve been visible, because his lips parted in surprise when his gaze searched mine. Something relaxed in him, and he blinked sudden wetness from his eyes.

“Yeah, okay. Go for it. Bloodplay for the win.”

And with that, I put my lips over his palm, like drinking his blood was the most ordinary thing in the whole wide world. I expected to feel a flash of hesitancy or doubt or something, but there was nothing. It had always been him and me, for years and years, and it still would be. Fate could go fuck itself.

I swallowed his blood, startled to find that it wasn’t coppery, like mine had been. It was thick and syrupy, like a sweet red wine. My eyes widened with surprise, and I was about to look up and tell him exactly that, but I never got the chance.

Because that was the exact moment when the floor fell out from under me, and the world went completely black.

CHAPTER ELEVEN || DANNY

Huh. Michael drinking my blood was a spiritual experience. Who would’ve guessed it?

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