Page 52 of Greer's Change

I move to tuck her hair behind her ear once more, and my gaze finally abandons her eyes to study her lithe neck. The fact that I haven’t fed since two nights ago might have something to do with my sudden fascination, but my head tilts as I spot the fang marks.

My thumb slides over them one by one, and Greer squirms in my lap.

My mind races, and reality sets in about the time her forehead wrinkles.

Ibit her there to provide my venom. It was the most accessible location, because her arms were dangling over the edge of the bed as we bled her dry.

Goddamn.

No fucking wonder the connection is deeper than I experienced with my maker.Thisis why the neck is supposed to be sacred.

A beloved bond is initiated with intent and always placed on the neck. The bite scars never heal—a permanent warning to others that the vampire in question is claimed.

There was no focused intent on my part to initiate a beloved bond. The only time that intent is overridden is if the pair are fated mates. Which I’d think I’d have been able to sense or, at the very least, smell. Then again, the stench of death was far too potent for me to scent anything outside of it.

My world just officially fucking tilted.

How did I miss this?

Oh, likely a heavy case of denial, the monstrous side of my consciousness taunts.

The signs were there.

I ignored them, but they wereeverywhere.

My connection with my maker was only a sliver of what I’ve been experiencing with Greer. I assumed that meant the makerside of the bond was different from the progeny side. However, this new development makes more sense.

My thumb slides over my fang marks once more, and Greer whimpers.

“I wasn’t hungry, like at all. And now my fangs ache…” she whispers, sounding pained. “It’s so weird. Will it always be like this? Where one second, I’m fine and the next?—”

“It shouldn’t,” I say, cutting her off. “But luckily, I’m right here. Drink your fill.”

She doesn’t need any further permission. Her eyes turn milky white as I appraise her face, and rather than going for my wrist, she tosses herself forward, digging her fangs into my throat.

“You may bite me, Seiran, and Reign via the neck, but no one else. When you’re feeding from donors…” I growl at the sensation of her venom slamming through my system. My cock jolts, lengthening and thickening. “What was I saying? Oh yes, when feeding from donors, go for the wrist or the thigh. Also, we need to find a way to help you control how much venom you’re releasing.”

Greer’s fingers land over my lips. It feels like she’s shushing me, until she shoves two digits inside my mouth. Her hips grind as she licks at the blood that spills around her fangs. My tongue rolls around her fingers, and the rebounding pleasure filtering through the bond is more intense than anything I’ve experienced.

The loud knock on my door makes her jolt, and I settle her with my hand on her lower back.

Shit, that’s right. I asked Tristan and Courtney to make their way over. Greer pulls her fingers from my mouth but leaves her fangs buried in my throat.

“Are you settled enough to attempt to feed from a human?” I ask, soothing my hand up and down her spine. “It is possible todrink from the gobletas they called it in my day, but you’ll find it’s more satisfying to feed directly from the source.”

She huffs an annoyed sound that makes me chuckle, but her fangs retract, and she licks over the bite to seal the wound. It’s unnecessary; my healing would handle it. I don’t correct her, though, since it’s good practice for when she’s feeding from humans.

“Can I bring them in?” I ask.

Greer buries her nose against my throat and nods. “Okay, but I’m not very hungry.”

“That makes this the perfect time for a practice feed.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Greer

Something happened the last time I bit Novak. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I initiated a matebond, but those necessitate intent, something I didn’t have.

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