And Rogan isn’t scared of anything.
I pull back quickly, my lips stinging.The dark and intoxicating flavor of his blood tingles over my tongue from my fangs nicking him during the passionate embrace.
“Rogan, what’s wrong?”
“The only thing wrong, princess, is that we’re not fucking right now.”He gives his cock a good pull.“I need you.I need younow.”
I step back, hitting the dirt wall of the cave.“You’re not yourself.Something’s…”
He jerks his head toward the entrance and sniffs.
“What is it?”I ask.
But before he can reply, my blood lust pulls me to him, and I jump back into his arms and sink my teeth into his neck.
I feed.
I drink.
I let the dark chocolate and black fruit elixir nourish me and my unborn child.
And he allows it.
He allows it because I’m carrying his son.
But he’s…
He’s…
Rogan isn’t here.
Rogan is somewhere else.
And instinctively I know why.
32
Rogan growls as I feed.
As I nourish my body and the growing body of our son.
This baby whose DNA is like a maze.
Who will be more wolf than anything he gets from me.
Yet it’s my body who nurtures him, who gives him life.
Who sustains him while he grows.
I drink for him more than for myself.
I take from his father what I know will be stolen from me when Rogan’s true mate shows up.
And she’s nearer than ever.
I sense it.
I sense it in Rogan’s growing agitation.