by Talyn Scott
“It’s not a transfusion to fight anemia – altering your blood, Blythe, it wouldn’t take that much to heal your type of injuries.” Sixten looked at the window, nodding to someone. Blythe figured he had guards positioned around the manse and was thankful for each one of them. “A simple feeding is all that’s required.”
“Then what’s the problem…if he’s offering.” She flicked her eyes to Kash. “By the way, thank you for your willingness to help me.” Kash opened his mouth but Sixten cut him off.
“He’s fed from you,” Sixten explained his apprehension, but she didn’t get it.
“That wasn’t a feeding, Six.” Kash removed his leather coat, carefully laying it over a crème-colored slipper chair.
She certainly remembered Kash at her throat before he misted her to the Santuary. They were in this exact room when it happened. The werewolves were circling the house, and she recalled sensing something else, possibly the hunters. Sixten had shifted into a panther, threatening everything around her including Kash. But not before he had tried to mist her, roughly biting her throat in several places, feeding instead of misting. With her addictive blood, a surefire curse any woman could live without, he nearly killed her. If it weren’t for Kash coaxing him away, licking her throat closed with healing Species saliva before misting her to the sanctuary, she might not be alive today. So where was the problem in her drinking from him? Not that she wanted to taste blood that way. No matter what, it wasn’t natural for her. But the curative powers of Species blood was astonishing. Besides, Kash was right, a hospital was a definite risk - one that outweighed any possible benefits.
Why would it matter if he sipped when he misted me? “I don’t understand,” she said. “He’s offering to help me again. Frankly, I’m not as tough as you two. I could do without the pain.”
Sixten moved back to the bed, smiling apologetically. “Feeding or not, you sip from him in return, another bond could form,” he explained, “this one between you and Kash.”
“It’s not in the equation,” Kash said heatedly. “Last time, I didn’t take enough from her. And although you seem to think differently, a forced bond is the last thing I want.” He was openly disgusted, raising a finger directed at his friend. “Don’t put me in the same camp as that Dynasty fucker, Six.” He glanced at Blythe, mouthing a sorry for swearing. Then back to Sixten, he added, “I’m nothing like him and you know it.”
“I wasn’t comparing you two,” he snarled as he continued staring through the window.
Blythe watched his eyes move over the horizon in dizzying speed, so fast they nearly stole her breath. She could never forget that he was an immortal, but when Sixten did things like that, he truly freaked her out. Wait a minute, she thought. Earlier, he’d said he was pacing, keeping his friends away. “I forgot you were the tiger.” How could she forget the great animal standing over her as Gianni took on the shifters?
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“You infiltrated the roaming Habalines who were hunting, didn’t you?”
“Why not use my worst features to save the best thing I’ve ever known?” he asked somewhat cryptically.
“I accept everything you are, considering no features as ‘worst’.” She smiled up at him, watching as he fixed those scary-sexy eyes on her. A shiver climbed her spine, in a good way. “You should, too.” She watched as Kash quietly slipped into the master bathroom. She knew vampires didn’t need one per se. “What’s he -”
“Old School. His mom raised him right. Out of respect, he’s washing his wrist for you.” She raised a questioning brow and he added, “He knows I’ll gut him alive if you feed from his throat.”
“Savage,” she chastised, but when she giggled at his mock wounded expression, more pain shot through her. “Last night, I heard a man in that orange grove screaming, maybe taking his last breath, because of you?”
“Well,” he drew out the word, pursing his lips, “classify screaming.”
He winked and Blythe realized a straight answer would not come from those full lips anytime soon. They both knew he had killed more times than he could count. Mostly for honorable reasons, though transgressions he could never atone for filled his inner attic…and basement. Blythe would never ask him what they were. She didn’t need to know – ever. Nothing could change the way she felt about him. All the same, if Sixten required the pretense of a halo-sporting, sword-swinging, flawless hero - one who never truly bloodied his hands - instead of a shape shifting vampire with an extensive naughty streak, she’d give him that.
Kash walked back from the bathroom. Blythe met his easy smile with a nervous one of her own. Through the brief encounters she had with Sixten’s comrade, she always admired his unnatural empathy towards her as well as his incredible physicality. Today was no different. A tight brown t-shirt fitted his chest, straining around his biceps. Downward, it tapered around a narrow waist. It wasn’t the typical cotton blend, but weaved with something she’d never seen. His dark leather pants, the color of rich chocolate and typical wear for a Vojak’s safety, sat below his flat stomach, resting on his pronounced hip blades. One thing was for certain, Sixten wasn’t the only vampire in the room with a six pack.
“One day, you’ll make a lucky lady very happy, Kash,” she said, hoping he would live long enough to settle down with someone. Immortals may be long-lived creatures, but warriors were forever battling. Daily, Vojaks risked their lives for their people. Kash sucked in a sharp breath, and she instantly realized she made a vampire faux pas. Obviously, they weren’t close enough to discuss such matters. “Sorry,” she offered and eyed Sixten, wondering if he would rethink his new position. She didn’t want him fighting anymore for any reason. Ambassador or not, the Vojaks wouldn’t leave power, such as Sixten’s, on the shelf. For sure, fighting would work its way back into his life – their lives. I want peace now…and his babies.
Dreams, all were still faraway dreams.
“Where are you bleeding from?” Kash asked, easing on to the bed with great care. Blythe knew he could sniff it out, and he was just being respectful.
“Her right hip,” Sixten answered instead, settling on the other side. Guardedly, he moved the sheet, still keeping most of her covered.
Kash dipped his head, trailing a finger over the deepest gash. “Not a claw mark, something jagged got you.”
“I feel on pipes, some metal stuff,” she whispered, watching as lavender bleed through the whites, his cheekbones tightening. “You’re not going to bite me, are you?”
“Our nature doesn’t essentially revolve around bites, Blythe,” he said hoarsely.
“Any number of things can bring out our Species,” added Sixten wearily, “relax.”
Kash nudged her up, lifting her hip with one hand and circling his free arm around the back of her waist. Sixten cupped her face, insisting she look into his eyes. Hers flew wide when Kash’s warm mouth stroked her injuries. She hadn’t realized how much they hurt. The pressure was too much and she threw her head back. If it weren’t for Sixten holding her steady, she would have hit the headboard. He hissed, his vampiric way of vocalizing his displeasure with her pain.
“I’m okay,” she said soothingly. He buried his hands in her hair, touching her lips with his. The barest of kisses and, by the way he was trembling, his lips were not the only thing he was holding back. She felt his claws push out, tangling in her dark hair. “It’s ebbing, Six.”
And it was.
He struggled to breathe, panting, his intoxicating breath heating her face. She reached around and caressed his head, pulling him closer. Kash quickened his tongue, stroking as she stared into Sixten’s desperate eyes. No matter what happened with Gianni, she needed her man on a very physical level. No, a bath would not wash Gianni away, but Sixten’s love would as well as his body. Both stared into one another, holding each other’s heads with their hands…breathless. In the same way as Kash, she could feel the Species in Sixten awakening. On the next lick, her body trembled and she
grew wet. Kash groaned and Sixten closed his eyes, temporarily blocking the sight of his friend healing her in a very intimate way.
Kash’s spiky hair tickled her lower stomach as his day-old whiskers scraped her thigh. The skin was closing, the deep wounds pulling away from the bone. His palm tightened on her hip, cupping her. Dare she say possessively? She eased a hand away from Sixten and gripped Kash’s hair, tugging at the coppery strands. His mouth left her hip. He stared up at her with raw possession before he quickly schooled it, his mouth smeared with her blood.
She was amazed at how well Kash controlled himself on so many levels, not biting her even though her blood was blatantly addictive to his kind. Yet, what was that look she just saw? One filled with ownership. “Thank you, Kash.” She glanced down, wondering in awe. Not even a pink scar remained. “Amazing.”
Sixten’s lips curved as he caught her eyes, still showing more of his Species than any humanistic traits. Eyes were solid ice-green. Pupils were small. Fangs draped his lips, mimicking a set of heart stopping claws And when she thought heart stopping, it wasn’t in the sexual sense. Kash appeared almost the same, though his fangs looked somehow thinner and less curved than Sixten’s, even his claws. But Kash was a pure blood vampire. “After you drink some blood,” explained Kash, “the rest of your body will heal up.”
“Perfectly,” Sixten agreed, moving his hands, wrapping the sheet tightly around her. “Let’s heal the bone, shall we? Or I guess, Kash, it’s… shall you?”
Sixten lifted her forward, adjusting her shin higher on a pillow. Kash moved behind her, settling those massive legs around her body with her nestled in between. She didn’t lean against him, though pain nearly forced her to.
Kash lifted his arm. And from behind her, she heard the small snap – his flesh giving way to his own bite. In a flash, his wrist was before her, settling underneath her chin. “Take from me,” he whispered, his voice laced with a sharp hiss. An erection pressed into her back, but she ignored it. She knew they found certain things intimate, and she refused to upset Sixten by saying anything.
Sixten’s eyes were on hers as he instructed, “Dab your tongue on it, it’s welling.”
She could not look at the blood, especially since she’d seen and tasted enough lately. So she closed her eyes, lowering her tongue to the wetness, lapping.
“More,” Kash moaned, his body tensing with anticipation.
Sixten reached for her other hand, kissing her inner wrist gently. “Suck it, Blythe. Lap and then suck.”
So she did, going head on and drinking deeply. Surprised at how it flooded her mouth, since she didn’t have fangs, she swallowed quickly. It tasted nothing like Gianni…nothing. And for that alone, she was grateful, wanting no other memories of him. Kash’s flavor was like an aged Port wine, almost too sweet – almost too tangy, though it still hit her palate with precise perfection.
She drew harder, wrapping her hands around his arm, drawing him closer. And, to her astonishment, she nipped him with her blunt teeth. Eliciting a moan from Kash and a strangled hiss from Sixten, her eyes popped wide at the sounds filling the room. Was she groaning? No! She tried to clear her vision, but the lines were blurring, becoming sensual. Her mind floated around her. Her feminine core heated – the pleasure exquisite.
She was going to come.
Don’t do that to Sixten!
Kash’s Species blood was a firestorm, rolling through her body in erotic waves. Up and down. Up and down. She groaned again, couldn’t help it. Gianni didn’t bring this response out of her with his essence and she wondered at that.
Sixten trailed kisses up her arm, and with a strangled voice, he said, “I wish…you were drinking my blood, Blythe. You should see the way you look right now, all flushed and beautiful. “Ummm, I want to bite you everywhere.”
Kash’s fangs scraped the side of her throat, gliding back and forth without breaking skin. “Drink deeply,” he murmured against the shell of her ear.
She flicked her tongue, coaxing more of his delicious nectar into her awaiting mouth, going higher and higher until Sixten discretely reached between her thighs, parted her soft folds, and thrust a single thick finger inside of her.
Blythe shattered on the spot.
Kash took his arm away.
She snarled, trying to get at him while gasping with potent aftershocks, one after the other after the other. Their power drugging and infinite, she never wanted this to end.
“I don’t want to bruise her, Six, she’s flying.”
Sixten pulled his finger out, cupping her chin with his opposite hand. “Look at me, my wife.”
She opened her eyes, knowing she should be embarrassed but could not muster it right now.
“Watch me,” he murmured, his eyes doing that smoldering thing she could never resist. He stuck that long finger in his mouth, the one glistening with her release. While keeping his eyes fixed on her, he sucked ever so slowly, moaning at her flavor before diving into her mouth with his tongue. Her come mixed with Kash’s blood delivered the most delicious crimson kiss. And although she knew they hadn’t blood bonded, something had definitely changed between Blythe and Kash.
But what was it?
Chapter Nineteen
“Uh, yeah, well… thanks,” said Sixten, tightening his fists at his sides, watching Kash leave. He’d been with them nonstop, even feeding Sixten before Blythe woke up since he wouldn’t leave her in order to hunt. And with his shifter’s power and Kash’s pure blood running through his veins, that nasty, poisonous bite the Marchii delivered was a thing of the past.
“I’m still guarding the property with the rest.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be listening in, since it’s…different for you.” Kash was in love with his Blythe. All the others circling and listening in with their immortal hearing were not. And the way Sixten felt right now with his zipper digging into his engorged cock, he was getting intimate with his Blythe as soon as Kash misted away. Why did he have this consideration? He hadn’t a clue. Maybe Blythe’s goodness was rubbing off on him. Nah, he second-guessed himself. Warriors never grew soft. One glance down at his erection would tell him that. So he figured he was just exhausted. Maybe not physically… but mentally, yeah, mentally he was a wreck.
“You don’t have much time, Six,” Kash said quietly, though Blythe couldn’t hear for the running bath water. He’d placed her inside their posh tub minutes ago. Thanks to Kash, her leg completely healed, though he refused to let her walk on it for purely selfish purposes. He longed for her body against his, had suffered every second she was away.
“I know.” They met eyes, nodding before Kash misted away. He resurfaced on the shore right under the manse’s beach deck. And Sixten knew he wasn’t going anywhere until things were settled. Unfortunately, there were countless matters to settle. Not one of them was good.
He misted to the bathroom door, leaning into it, watching her.
“I can’t believe you put your fingers in me when I fed from him.”
Sixten couldn’t either. “He wasn’t paying any attention.” Right.
“I’ll try and pretend that’s true, but I’m still embarrassed.”
“Humans,” was his response. Water lapping over Blythe’s beautiful nipples distracted him. “Like candy to a youngling. Yum. You are quite enticing, angel. Such perfection, shall I recite -”
“Are you going to waste time talking?” She asked, curling her lip without opening her eyes. “Cause I’m telling you right now, Six, I need you.”
A blast of precome shot out. “Ah, tempting me with the irresistible, are you sure?” His voice dropped an octave. “I must confess I’m known to be armed and chillingly dangerous, especially to helpless, horny females. Not to scare you, but I’m wanted in forty-nine states.”
“Only forty-nine?” Those cognac eyes stayed closed. A foot lifted, her toes twirling around the faucet until the water shut off. “Hmmm, you’ve never been to Alaska?”
What? A location covered in obs
curing darkness for several months a year. A vampire’s dream, hunting would be sublime and the possibilities endless. “Hawaii.” He misted, settling behind her, lifting those glossy strands over the tub, and combing them with his fingers. “Grass skirts would get caught in my fangs.”
“Your head under someone’s grass skirt?” That thought elicited a very sexy growl from his mate, and he could almost hear that Beta’s blood coursing through her – the call of her ancestors. The werewolves who gave her blue-black hair through distinct lineage, a physical trait found in overseas Packs. “Are the coconut trees still out back by the open pit fireplace?”
“Of course,” he answered, “I know how you love those trees.” Out of everything on this property, one he had bought to share with Blythe, he kept his gardeners on those palms, ensuring they stayed fertilized and impeccably nurtured. As time passed, the grey trunks bent into curves, as if billowing along with the sea breeze. Or maybe they mimicked the sway of Blythe’s lush body. By now, he could slip a hammock between a couple of the thicker ones and rock Blythe in many ways. Hmmm.
Yet before they seriously rocked, he’d have to mist up and knock down a few coconuts first. Usually they fell, ones full of milk, settling onto the soft sand. He used to pick them up, piercing a couple of claws through before lifting the sweet offering to his mate. Watching her sup from the nutty fruit, he adored how she licked the white cream from her plumps lips rather provocatively.
My sexy kitten.
Another answering drizzle from his cock. His balls truly ached, laden with his creamy, white offering. Maybe Blythe could pretend his heavy sack was a coconut, licking him right up. She was still droning on about the trees. Snap out of it, mind on anything besides your balls.
“Good, I need something heavy to throw at my egotistical man. Coconuts might knock some sense into you, especially if you’re thinking of ducking underneath grass skirts.”