Page 106 of Lost Girl

“I think it’s you who’s missing the point, son,” my dad retorts. “No one said anything about bringing her back. You treading into her world is simply to ensure her safety and well-being are intact.”

"You have got to be out of your mind if you think I'm crossing that portal and not bringing her back with me," I toss back indignantly.

My dad raises his hands in concession. "How you choose to handle that is your business, you're a grown man, but as your father, I'm telling you that your sister is right and you should go and check on her."

Back and forth my befuddled gaze bounces between the two. "Why the sudden concern for her? I thought you didn't approve of her?" That’s directed at my father, both questions that leave him hitching a shoulder.

"I didn't, but after the things I’ve learned, I realized I've made a grand mistake. I misjudged her before getting to know her and that wasn't fair. She deserved more from me as the Chief and you deserved more from me as your father."

I don’t even know what to say, where to begin replying to that, so I don’t. We’ll discuss this another time. "You really think I should go?"

"It doesn't matter what I think,” he imparts. “The question here is, do youwantto? Do you want to risk what's left of your heart in an attempt to warn her? To make certain she’s safe?"

"I'd risk everything for her,” I vow proudly, “my life included."

There’s a small lapse in time during that of which he regards me. Dare I say it, but all I see is pride reflecting in his brown eyes. Rising from the couch, he closes the distance between us and promptly swallows me in a hug. "Then there’s your answer. Go, my son. Guard your kind heart, but be the fearless man I know you are."

?Twisted - MISSIO?

There's something to be said for blood sharing with your female.

It's so erotic, heightening the metallic zing of blood blasting over your tastebuds.

And I don't mean feeding on each other.

No.

I mean sharing a body, watching your counterpart take their fill while you indulge, too.

This is the third occurrence in three days time. Tinksley's been on an adventurous kick after returning from London. I'd say that worries me, but I’d rather her focus be on her desires than on Wendy’s existence.

Not that that's an issue anymore.

Regardless, my fiancée looks hotter than hell as she presses the puppet’s back into my chest and digs her fangs into her neck.

The very naked puppet who I refuse to touch other than to feed.

Yeah, her idea, friends—not mine.

At the rate we're going, it won't be much longer until she's stripping, too, and that's when I'm going to have to shut this shit down.

Woman or not, that body is mine.

Knock, knock!

"Cap, are you decent?" Sam calls from behind the bedroom doors.

Tinksley unlatches from the girl, matching streams of blood rolling down her chin from the edges of her mouth. "Kinda busy here, Smee!"

"But Tavi's here to see him. I told him that—"

I'm flashing toward the threshold and yanking the doors open before he's finished. "What did you just say?"

"Tavi's here," he repeats, forcing a smile.

What the actual fuck?

"And what could he possibly want?"

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