Page 4 of Blood Tribute

“What—?” she sputtered. “How?”

It seemed to take him a moment to find his voice. “A Hesperine’s bite does no harm to a human. It has healing properties.”

He swept his tongue over her palm again, licking away the blood that lingered on her skin.

She felt her cheeks heat and knew her hopelessly pale complexion turned a betraying shade of red. She always blushed too easily. She knew she was too expressive. It was one of her greatest flaws.

He pulled back, licking his sensual lips. Her first look at his fangs should have made her quail. But the sight of his unsheathed canines only made her face flush hotter. And the darkness wouldn’t hide her response from his night vision.

It was not his strength and speed or even his magic that were the greatest threats to her. The true challenge would be surviving his seduction.

“This is what I will show you first, Nora. What the Drink is really like. Then tell me if you still believe the knights’ tales of horror.” He rested her arm across her lap, wrist up, and pressed his fingers to her racing pulse.

She must not allow herself to forget how dangerous he was. But in that moment, she was not sure whom she feared more: him, or herself.

His mouth met her skin again, evoking a flare of sensation on her sensitive inner wrist. With her free hand, she clutched at the boulder to support herself. When he sucked gently, heat crept down her neck and across her breasts.

He paused. “The Drink is not an act of violence. It is a sacred ritual.”

He firmed his grip on her forearm and held her wrist against his mouth. Her heart seemed ready to burst from her ribcage. There was no turning back now.

But no agony came. She felt the tips of his fangs prick her, then their hard lengths sinking into her flesh. But the sensation that spread through her body was anything but painful.

First a sparkling awareness that sent gooseflesh over her skin. Then a deeper warmth emanating from his lips and tongue. A sweet ache flowed down her arm, and she bit back a moan.

She knew he was pulling her lifeblood out of her, and yet the power of his bite seemed to pour into her as well, overwhelming. All the heat flowed to one destination, pooling low in her belly.

She had never let any male do this to her. She never gave in to such base desires, except in her solitary moments, when she banished her lust with her own hands. Her appetites had always been unbefitting a holy knight’s daughter, but she had managed them. Until tonight.

How was this possible? Could he be using magic on her? She squeezed her thighs together. The scabbard strapped to her leg reminded her of the truth. This was no manipulation of her mind. This was all her.

With nothing more than a bite on her wrist, the Hesperine was undoing all her years of self control.

She tried to breathe through the flood of awareness coursing through her body. Her nipples pressed tight against the gown, and her nails dug into the stone. But she didn’t push him off of her. She had to keep their agreement.

A voice in her mind, one she had tried to silence her whole life, whispered the truth to her. She didn’t want him to stop.

He lay across her lap, his jaw taut, fastened to her wrist as if his next heartbeat depended on it. She felt the inexplicable urge to bury her fingers in his long black hair. Would he keep drinking until he drained all the life out of her? Would she let him?

Suddenly, he pulled his fangs out of her with a grunt of effort.

It was over. But no sigh of relief escaped her. She bit back a whimper of frustration.

He pressed his tongue to her wrist again. His licks knit her skin together and sealed his bite, leaving two pinpoints of exquisite sensitivity where his fangs had pierced her.

Suddenly he was standing out of arm’s reach, so fast she didn’t see him move. They stared at each other, their breaths loud in the quiet night.

No blood stained his lips. She stared at his fangs, still fully extended from his gums. Fangs that had just been in her flesh. She pressed a hand to her wrist, where those twin spots of sensation on her skin felt like an indelible mark.

“Tell me, Nora. Were the horror stories true?”

She said nothing. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Did it hurt?” he asked her.

Her hand tightened on her wrist, her core still throbbing.

“Remember our agreement,” he said. “Can you deny that a Hesperine’s bite is nothing like you imagined?”

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