Page 33 of Make Me Bleed

And that’s when a low, steady growl breaks through the miasma of fear covering me. Heavy footsteps hit the ground, bringing a pleasant warmth with them. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

My heart swells.

Hank.

It has to be Hank.

“It’s me,” he grates out, voice gentle yet restrained. Like he wants to roar, but he’s too afraid of frightening more than I already am. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You don’t have to be afraid, Lise.”

I want to believe that so desperately.

Still, I can’t help but whimper. “Dark.” I gasp out the word. “It’s so dark. Help me.”

“Anything,” he vows fiercely, dropping to my side. “I won’t let the dark hurt you ever again, my mate.”

As the darkness wins and I feel myself going under, I shudder in relief. Because Ibelievehim. It’s the only reason I give in to my panic. I believe him, and I don’t have to fight the dark anymore.

Because my beloved will do it for me.

When I wake up again,I’m drained. Emotionally, physically… I’mexhausted.

I’m also the most comfortable I’ve been in a long, long time.

Wherever I am, it reminds me of honey and cloves. It’s warm, the air full of a masculine warmth that has me cozying up against the furnace at my back that’s responsible for most of the heat.

And I don’t mean a literal furnace, either, though the male spooning me is as big as one. Hank’s human body is wrapped around me, my head tucked under his chin, one leg thrown over my knees as he drapes an arm over my shoulders.

He has to weigh close to three times as much as I do. My beloved bear is still careful not to use his weight against me, so though I’m entangled in his embrace, I don’t feel suffocated.

I just feelloved.

I’m on top of a mattress that fits us both easily, with silky sheets that caress my skin. My heels are off, though my clothes are on; behind me, his chest is naked, though I can see his denim-covered leg pinning me in place next to him.

As always, Hank is bare foot, though they’re clean. So is the bed.

And that’s amazing because it’s stored along the craggy wall, hidden along the side of the cave that makes up his den.

It’s not dark, though. Blinking my sleep away, I see a large crack in the rocky ceiling over my head serving as a natural skylight. It’s wide enough to let in the sun, helping to illuminate the space. And if that’s not enough? The two large sconces screwed into the wall, hosting a pair of thick tallow candles with flickering flames, does the trick.

I let out the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

The dark isgone.

Hank chased it away. Even better, he made sure it couldn’t find me after he rescued me…

I remember everything about last night; the panic makes the experience sharp instead of muddled. Everything from Peter to the sudden darkness, all the way to collapsing just outside of what must’ve been Hank’s cave. If I didn’t, Hank found me anyway, following my frantic tugging on our bond.

He saved me. Not only that, but he brought me inside his den. I can see more details now. This is definitely his sleeping area. Apart from the bed and the candles, I see a dresser that looks like it was hand-carved; most likely by Hank himself. A pair of boots is lined up in front of it, proving that he does own shoes. There’s a mirror standing against the wall that I pointedly avoid, and a gap that must lead to either the exit or another cave in the above ground system.

I want to go look. Despite all my worries about going to Hank’s den and feeling trapped like it was another coffin disappear now that I’m here. It smells like him. Itfeelslike him. It’s safe… and I want to explore.

Only one problem: Hank is holding me so close, it’s going to be difficult to escape his possessive grip.

My bear is heavy and warm. The best chance I have is to ease myself out from under his arm, then slide across the bed until his leg shifts and rests on the mattress again.

I get about three inches away from him when Hank grumbles sleepily, tightening his grip, tugging me up against his hard chest.

His hard chest, and his hardcock.

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