Page 27 of Lifeblood

“Good.”

Mordred let go of my face and removed my hand from his. With a surprising gentleness, considering how long he’d waited for fresh lifeblood blood, he held my wrist out before us. I took the cup from him to hold while he ever-so-carefully sliced the blade of his knife along my forearm. A small cut, just enough to bleed.

I hissed as the blade cut. It wasn’t deep, but even a paper cut hurt.

Mordred’s eyes snapped to mine, a hint of an apology within them. He set the knife aside.

“I’m okay.” I wasn’t sure whom I was trying to reassure.

Before, I’d been sort of lost in the presence of Mordred and all that he was. But now that my blood was drawn and silver droplets were beading around the wound, now that my blood was in the presence of a demon king and one of my mates, a strong, heady feeling was coming over me. Like losing control. Like prey caught in a corner, but instead of being terrified by it, I was enthralled. Thrilled.

I met Mordred’s gaze for a moment longer before mine dropped to his lips. All at once, all I wanted to do was kiss him. It seemed the only logical expression of everything I was feeling. My chest heaved with the rush of it all.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Mordred leaned in and swallowed the words with a kiss. Our lips met in a hot, desperate dance. He tasted like moonlight and shadow, like dusk as night set in the summer. His tongue, firm and demanding, claimed my mouth without asking, but the thrill of it, of more choices being made for me, sent pulsing need straight to my core. Already, warmth had pooled there.

I reached up to run my fingers through Mordred’s dark hair, holding the back of his head to keep him close to me. He drifted from my lips to kiss my jawline and then down my neck, finding and kissing the spot where my pulse pounded with need.

I moaned—not gracefully, either. It was the ragged moan of someone who’d not been touched like this in a long time, and certainly not by a demon king or mate. Mordred growled in response and ran his tongue along my suddenly hot skin. The fingers of the hand holding my wrist came over the knife cut to stop the bleeding, but otherwise, his entire attention was devoted to doing delicious things along my neck that had me clawing his hair.

His touch felt firm. His tongue like heaven. The way he paid worship again and again to the spot on my neck that had me melting in his arms and moaning with ragged breath had me questioning every decision I’d made to put this moment off. To put off meeting the demon kings. Surrendering to them.

I wanted to surrender to Mordred now. To let him have me. Claim me. I wanted to do more than kiss this beautiful, stoic demon king. And I knewheknew that, too.

But the magic of the moment ended abruptly as Mordred kissed my neck and then my lips one more time before pulling away. He lifted the cup I’d been holding in my other hand and took it from me. There was a small amount of my silver blood in it. I didn’t even remember either of us holding it to my wrist to collect, but it was possible that after all ofthat,I barely remembered my own name.

Little Lifeblood. Ava. Mate. It was one of those, surely.

My breath came in shallow pulls, and my entire body was vibrating with need and lust. Even Mordred’s jaw was locked tight as he managed to take a full step back away from me.

“You are a tempting thing.” He held up the glass of silver blood before him. “They better show the same restraint.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just nodded. Because right now, all I really wanted was for Mordred tonotshow restraint. I wanted his lips on my skin again, to be held by his shadow tendrils and—Stop.

Gods.This was all so much. Maybe going at a slower pace was a good idea.

Mordred inclined his head and then brought the glass to his lips. My silver blood slipped into his mouth. His eyes rolled back and a soft groan escaped. With a mighty heave, his entire body seemed to relax and strengthen all at once. It wasn’t much divine blood he’d taken and drunk from me, but, apparently, it had been enough.

For a moment, his eyes flashed gold, then it was gone and he was lowering the glass from his mouth.

“How does it feel?” I asked.

His eyes met mine. “Exquisite. Powerful.”

There was something very hot about the fact that I alone could make him feel that specific type of exquisite power. “Is it enough for now?”

Mordred lifted his free hand and made a fist. The shadows and all the darkness in the room pulled in closer like a tight breath. When he released the fist, they retreated. All the while, more and more shadow tendrils unfurled around Mordred’s form. Some of them slithered through the air to me, like an idle thought of his, and slid along my form. A gentle caress, like lovers holding hands absentmindedly.

“Yes,” Mordred said, satisfaction thick in his suddenly husky voice. “What you do to me… What your blood can do… You are incredible, Ava. Thank you.”

Thank you.It felt like a weird thing to be thanked for, my blood. But Mordred and the demon kings needed it to survive. For immortality. This was a gift, and not one so freely given in the past.

“Thankyoufor giving me the choice.”

Mordred held my face again. I turned into his palm. My eyes closed of their own accord. “You will always have a choice with us. Consent with us. I know we didn’t exhibit such restraint upon our first meeting, but I promise you, you are safe here. Wanted. Cared for.” He dipped his head again as he spoke, until his lips hovered over mine on his last word. Then he held us there, nearly kissing again but not. Mordred growled. “I shouldn’t kiss you again.”

“You really should,” I found myself saying without hesitation.

A ghost of a smile curled the corner of his mouth. “Another time.” He ran his thumb along my cheek and then withdrew. “Let’s return, and you can decide whom you’ll let taste you next.”

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