Page 121 of Dark Flame
She traces a line down my abs, getting close enough to my waistband that my cock takes it as an invitation. “Have you ever turned anyone?”
I tip her head up, wanting her to see my face when I reply, “There’s never been anyone I’ve wanted to be around for eternity.”
Her gaze drops to the space between us, and her hands slip off my chest to knot in her lap and rub at the scars on her wrists. “What’ll happen to me? Witches live long lives, but notthatlong.”
“The moment I chose you, our lives got linked. You die; I die. If you complete your side of the bond and I were to die, you would as well. As long as I live, you will too. Whether that’s another century, a millennium…” I trail off as the blood drains from her face. She says nothing, but her heart goes off like a butterfly’s wing—and it’s as fragile as one too.
“You didn’t choose me, though. Fate did.”
“No, Hellion,Ichose you. If I truly despised you, I wouldn’t have followed you here. I would have allowed myself to wither without your blood and eventually fall into a coma.”
She leans away, putting entirely too much space between us. “So you chose me over death? That’s not exactly selling me.”
“Harlow, I have given you every reason to doubt me, but I vow to spend the rest of forever proving to you I want you for reasons beyond whatever it was exactly that made you mine and me yours. You’re my equal, and I apologize it took me a while to realize it.You, everything about you, drew me in from the beginning. How I see it, this entire time, you’ve been the predator between us, not me. It’s why I’m here. Why I didn’t immediately seek ways to break the bond. You’re scared, and I can feel it. Take the time you need, because I’m not going anywhere. We have eternity, you and I, and I plan on using every second of it.”
She’s staring at her lap, but I feel her tear on my hand as though she’s sobbing. To me, one tear is one too many, and I wipe her cheek, my hand lingering when I don’t want to stop touching her.
She reaches up, tracing along my cheek and towards my lips. I part them as her thumb brushes my bottom lip, and she slips inside my mouth, lightly brushing one of my fangs. They extend, responding to her touch.
“Are you hungry?”
“For you, always. In general, no.”
“They’re sharp,” she murmurs, stroking the tip again before reaching for my hand. I let her control it, curious when she brings my index finger up to my fang and pushes it against the tip, the skin breaking after a moment of bated breath—hers. Blood swells in a small, red bead.
She brings my finger to her mouth and sucks the tip.
Forty-Six
HARLOW
The tasteof Alec’s blood bursts on my tongue. What I guessed would be disgusting, or at least not remotely tasty by any means of the word, isn’t. It’s metallic in that familiar blood way, but so much more too. A vibrancy that ignites my taste buds, tingling with saltiness that makes me want more. But beneath the coppery taste, there’s more. A flavour I can’t place, but something inside me is becoming increasingly familiar with.
As it slides down my throat, melding with my saliva, another sort of burst happens, this one in my stomach and chest. Suddenly, things are clearer than ever. My mind opens to every possibility between Alec and me. A connection forms, seen only through my mind’s eye, that connects him to me exactly how I’ve been to him since the night I ran from him. It’s a smoky grey, a darkness making him mine, but nothing like the shadows that spent months stalking me. No, this grey feels like home.
Like I’m coming home.
The bond.
Alec jerks beneath me, his eyes shifting a ferocious red. A growl vibrates through his chest, and I suck harder. The slithering sensation circles my neck, the black magick within me waking to the taste of him. Darkness meeting Darkness.
Suddenly, I’m flipped onto my back, the chill from the cement floor rendering Alec’s shirt useless. It gets hiked to my waist as he slots himself between my legs and rips into his own wrist, blood dripping from his arm and onto my chest, an offer silently presented around eyes as wild as the night he first drank from me.
I open my mouth, accepting the decision I’ve made, and he shifts his arm until blood drops onto my tongue, mini explosions going off. My hips rock into his, chasing every sort of feeling he’ll give me as I bring his arm down, mouth latching on the bite he’s made.
A ticklish feeling tingles my mind seconds before his voice, as clear as if he verbally spoke the words, filters through.Do you understand what you’ve done?
I knew what I was doing the second I pricked his finger with his fang. What completing the bond on my end will mean for us—for me.
I don’t love him, that much I know. Is it even possible to go from loving someone who, only weeks prior, kidnapped and meant to use me in his fucked-up revenge games? Probably not. But what I do know is I feel stronger for him than anyone else in my life, past or present. He’s accepting what I am without judgement. He’s one of the few who have never lied to me. He’shere, and this whole thing proved that no matter how much I fight it, fate brought us together and, for some reason, made me his mate. We’re together forever, and eternity will feel painfully endless if I remain determined to limit him to the vampire he was rather than the one he’s becoming for me.
It’s with little focus, an almost instinct driving me, to push my reply into his consciousness, now able to do what I never was before.You accept my Darkness, so why should I keep avoiding yours?
He tugs his arm away and traces my mouth, smudging blood over my lips and chin.As fucking fantastic as that feels, your body isn’t meant for blood. Bride or otherwise, I don’t know if it’ll make you sick.
Probably not, considering the cure doesn’t work on you.
I’d rather not risk it.Verbally, he murmurs, “There’s no greater pleasure among mates than blood-sharing.”
