by Kali Argent
“Nikolai Diavolos.” Of course, none of his friends ever used his full name, but he didn’t yet know if he could call these men friends.
“Ah, so you really are Prince Charming. Well, Nikolai, you seem okay, but your dad is a dick.”
There it was. They knew his name, knew of his father’s crimes, and yet, they casted no blame in his direction. It humbled him, but mostly, it made him feel like a fucking hypocrite.
“That he is.” Leaning his head back against the seat again, he closed his eyes and grinned. “You can call me Nik.”
* * * *
Kamara came awake on a fluffy, suede sofa in front of a roaring fireplace. She didn’t know where she was, nor how she’d gotten there, but it was enough that no one was actively trying to kill her.
That last thing she remembered was her and Nikolai hiding under and old porch with a dead dog while Ravagers hunted them. He’d been trying to say goodbye to her, but she wouldn’t let him. She’d done her best to be brave and optimistic, but in her heart, she’d known that if the Ravagers didn’t get them, the blood loss would. She’d been injured, but Nikolai—her mate had been dying.
Her pulse sped, her heart pounding up into her throat, and she gasped as she jerked upright.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” Sitting on the last cushion at the end of the sofa, Nikolai grinned in that special way that always made her weak in the knees.
He looked half-dead, sunken and ashen from his blood loss, but right then, he was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen. Throwing the blanket off, she scrambled across the cushions to kneel beside him. She held his face in both hands and stared, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You’re alive.”
“I’m alive,” he confirmed.
“Good.” Releasing his face, she sat back on her heels—and punched him in the arm. “That’s for knocking me out, asshole.” Confident she’d made her point, she crawled into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. “That,” she whispered, “is for saving my life again.”
Nikolai hummed as he rubbed their noses together. “We really do have to stop meeting like this.” With a sigh, he hugged he close, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I am sorry for putting you to sleep. I had no idea who these people were, and I was afraid you’d be walking into something even worse than the Ravagers.”
Curling into him, she pressed her hand to his bare chest, right over his heart, and nodded. “I understand why you did it.” His words registered, and she popped upright. “Did you say ‘these’ people? They’re here?”
“Well, someone had to save your skinny ass,” a male answered, striding across the room to flop down in an oversized chair near the fire. “Nice hardware by the way,” he added, tapping his very human canines with his index and middle fingers.
Kamara’s grin stretched so wide it hurt her cheeks. “Hey, Grim. It’s been a while.” It astonished her that Nikolai had agreed to be in the same room with them, let alone allow them anywhere near her. “I feel like I missed something.”
Both men smirked at each other, and Nikolai brushed a kiss across her cheek.
“We had time to talk while you were sleeping. I guess you could say we’ve reached an understanding.”
“High praise coming from this one.” Oliver Grimble—Grim to most people—pulled his inky hair back from his face, the movement straining the fabric of his black T-shirt. “I thought he was going to bleed out before we could get him out from under that porch.”
Yes, clearly, she had missed a lot. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Almost twenty-four hours,” Nikolai answered. “It takes a lot of energy to heal from something like what you went through.”
“We,” she corrected, fingering the edge of the bandage on his chest. “If it’s been that long, why haven’t you healed yet?”
“I’m healing.”
“Nik, tell me the truth. What’s wrong?”
Tilting her head up, he rubbed their lips together gently and sighed. “I am healing, but it’s taking longer than usual.”
“Because you need to feed?”
“Yes,” he answered aloud.
“Then, how am I already healed?”
“I lost more blood than you.”
It was a reasonable answer, but she still felt like Nikolai was hiding something. “Nik, stop trying to protect me and just tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m fine. We’ll talk later.”
“Bullshit.” Jumping to her feet, she rounded on Grim. “What the hell is wrong with you? Give him a fucking blood bag.”
“We used the last one in the emergency kit on you.”
The wheels began spinning in her head, and she turned slowly to look at her mate. Of course he’d made that sacrifice. She didn’t even know why it surprised her.
“Damn it, Nik.”
“I’ll feed when I can.” Taking her hand, he caressed her knuckles with his thumb. “I know that look. Don’t worry about me, cara mia. I’ll be okay.”
No. Absolutely not. His stubbornness would be the death of him, but not on her watch.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked her friend, her tone cold, dangerous. “I’m standing here looking at about twelve pints of blood, and you’re telling me you couldn’t spare a couple sips?”
“We offered,” Izan Wilder answered as he strutted into the room. “He refused.”
Nope, that didn’t surprise her, either. “God save me from fools,” she muttered under her breath. “Someone get over here and give him your fucking wrist.”
“Kamara,” Nikolai growled from behind her.
She ignored him. “Well?”
It wasn’t like she had asked them for a kidney. Although, if Nikolai really needed one, she might. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him, and that included saving him from his own, stubborn self.
“Kamara, stop. This is not going to happen.”
“Oh, but it is.”
Nikolai’s jaw clenched, and the tendons in his neck strained. “This is a terrible idea.”
Ah. She finally understood the problem. She’d been thinking only of getting him well, not how she’d feel about him biting someone else. Glancing back and forth between Grim and Izan, she fell into a defensive posture and growled before she realized what she was doing.
Fuck, this was never going to work. Regrettably, it was also their only option.
“You have to,” she said finally. “I’d do it if I could, but we both know how that will end.”
She felt a little better, and she probably looked a damn sight better than her mate, but she was far from fully healed. If he continued to resist, she’d cut open her wrist and force-feed it to him, the consequences be damned. However, if she did that, she’d have to feed, and of course, Nikolai would feel guilty. Then, they’d just keep chasing each other around in the same, vicious circle.
She hated it as much as he did, but this wasn’t about her. Crimson bloomed across the white gauze on his chest, sides, and stomach. He needed blood, and she didn’t have enough to give him.
Kneeling on the floor at his feet, she took his hands and squeezed them tightly. “Nik, please. You have to feed.”
“He’s not the only one,” Izan interjected. “You look like shit.”
Kamara growled, but otherwise, ignored him. “I can’t watch you do this to yourself.” Bringing Nikolai’s hands to her lips, she kissed his fingers as moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes. “Please.”
Removing his right hand from her grasp, Nikolai smiled as he stroked her hair. “He’s right. You do look terrible.”
Kamara sniffled. “Charmer.”
“I’ll do it,” he said slowly, and she could feel the condition coming. “You need to feed as well.”
Before he’d even finished speaking, Kamara started shaking her head. He’d never heal if she drained what he needed right back from him.
“No, Nik. I can’t. I won’t. Not until you’re healed.”
“You know,” Grim said from near the fireplace, “there are two of us.”
“If one of you snaps, we can always tranq you,” Izan suggested, shrugging when Kamara gaped at him. “What? I’d rather not get mauled for doing you a favor.”
She thought it over for half a second, but she couldn’t bring herself to feed from someone other than her mate. Which was why it surprised her when she looked up to find Nikolai nodding.
“Nik?”
“I don’t like it.” Still smiling, he caressed the side of her face. “I think we have to, though.” He touched the bandage on her shoulder. “You’re not completely healed, either.”
“Maybe we could do it in different rooms.”
“No.” Nikolai bared his fangs and growled at Grim as he pushed up from the sofa.
When he began to sway, Kamara jumped to her feet and wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. “I think what he means is that would probably make it worse. Seeing it is bad.” She knew from experience. “Imagining all sort of lewd things in your mind is worse.”
“I still don’t like this.”
“I know,” Nikolai sent back, “but desperate times, and all that.”
“Okay, so how do you want to do this?” Grim asked rising from his chair and rolling the sleeve of his black shirt up to his elbow. “Maybe just opposite sides of the room?”
Kamara nodded. “That could work.” Nikolai was right. This was a terrible idea, but if it was the only way to get her mate well again, so be it. “Let’s just do this and stop talking about it.”
They separated, her and Grim on one side of the sofa, Nikolai and Izan on the other. Neither human looked afraid or upset about being used as walking blood bags. In fact, they kind of looked bored with the whole process.
“Thank you,” she mumbled to Grim.
She’d been a bit of a bitch about the whole thing, and she didn’t want him to think she was ungrateful. She’d just been so scared for Nikolai, and so frustrated by his pigheadedness.
“Whatever.” Her friend shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Just don’t think about it,” she sent to her mate through their mental link. Wrapping her fingers around Grim’s wrist, she closed her eyes and brought it to her lips. “Focus on something else, Nik. Anything else.”
All that met her in return was a single word, repeated in an endless chant. “Mine.”
Trying to follow her own advice, Kamara did her best to put away any and all thoughts about what she was actually doing, or more to the point, what Nikolai was doing. Pressing her mouth to Grim’s skin, she cringed as her fangs sank easily into his flesh, the tips piercing the vein that ran down the inside of his forearm. The first splash of blood over her tongue filled her with immense guilt, and she almost pulled away when her stomach heaved.
Then, she swallowed, and everything changed.
The crimson trickling down her throat was like imbibing liquid sunshine that radiated throughout her body, illuminating and warming even the darkest recesses. Her muscles flexed involuntarily, the fibers strengthening until she felt like she could sprint up a mountain—or raze it to the ground with minimal effort. It was like chasing a storm, or riding a bolt of lightning
She drew on the wound again, shuddering from the same indescribable sensation that had met her the first time. By the third swallow, she felt completely healed, other than the fact that her head was starting to spin.
Fuck, she felt high, euphoric, but oddly focused. It was like she’d been staring through a dirty window all her life, and now, she could suddenly see clearly. Colors were brighter. Sounds crisper. Smells almost overwhelming. She’d thought becoming a vampire had heightened her senses, but this was something altogether different.
Lifting her head, she stared up at Grim with fascination and awe. “That’s not normal.”
“Oh?” Pulling his hand away, he shook his sleeve down and took a step back, but there was far too much innocence in his tone.
“I’ve tasted human blood,” she continued. “That…” Pausing, she tilted her head to the side. “What are you?”
If he answered, she never heard him.
An ear-piercing roar erupted throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and vibrating the windows. Kamara jerked around, watching as Nikolai shoved Izan away from him hard enough to knock him into the wall. His gaze locked on her, he strode toward the sofa, hurdling it effortlessly, his focus never wavering as he marched toward her.
Damn, he looked amazing, his skin radiating with health and vitality. His hair gleamed in the firelight, and the sunken hollows had vanished around his eyes. Even the bruises and cuts on his chest and arms were healed. It wasn’t normal, not at all, but she was so relieved that it just didn’t matter how it had happened.
“Nik? Nikolai, breathe. It’s over now.”
But he didn’t stop, didn’t listen. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, covering her mouth in a searing kiss that set her on fire.
Her back met with something hard and unyielding as her mate devoured and consumed her. His tongue plunged between her lips, attacking her mouth with a fierce possessiveness she was helpless to resist. With one muscular arm encircling her waist, Nikolai anchored her against the wall while his other hand jerked at the waistband of her fitted jeans.
“Off,” he demanded. “Now.”
Nikolai needed her, and more importantly, he needed everyone to know she belonged to him. Watching her feed from Grim, seeing her lips moving against the male’s skin had nearly undone him, and it had taken every ounce of restraint not to fly across the room and remove the asshole’s head from his shoulders.
She needed the blood, and she already looked better, but that did nothing to temper his murderous thoughts. The only thing that could have been worse was if he’d had to watch someone feed from her.
The thought alone twisted his gut, and he growled against her lips as he twisted her waistband in his fist and yanked hard, tearing the thick fabric down the center. The alluring scent of her arousal permeated the air around them, and every inhalation made his head spin and his cock throb.
“Need you.”
“Yes. Need you,” she echoed, her breath warm against the shell of his ear. “Hurry.”
Shredding the remainder of her clothing with his claws, he grabbed her pert ass, holding her easily as he licked and nibbled down the side of her throat. Kamara’s legs encircled him, gripping his flanks and urging him closer. Lost in her scent, her taste, the way she arched against him and moaned, he didn’t just kiss her—he branded her, rubbing against her to cover her in his scent.
Grinding his trapped erection against her naked pussy, he cupped the swell of her breast, massaging the firm, creamy flesh with his fingers. Then he captured her hardened nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. He twisted and pulled, gently at first, then a bit harder, remembering just the way she liked it. Kamara didn’t disappoint, rewarding him with a loud, throaty moan that tripped his pulse into overdrive.
Every urgent slide of her tongue, each hard jerk of her hips, shoved him recklessly closer to the edge, but he needed more. He needed to be inside her, to feel her surrounding him as he reestablished his claim, joining them as one and marking her for everyone to see.
Dropping his hand from her breast, he eased back just far enough to dip a single digit between her folds. A strangled groan tore from his chest when he encountered slick, wet heat, and he dropped his forehead to her shoulder as he skimmed his finger along her drenched core.
Kamara spread her thighs wider and rocked her hips, thrusting against his hand as she tangled one hand in his hair and reached for the waistband of his cargo pants with the other. Her gasps and moans turned to growls of frustration when her trembling fingers couldn’t unclasp the button.
“Nik, please,” she begged, stroking him through the fabric. “Hurry. Please, hurry.”
Too far gone for propriety, he jerked on his waistband, popping the button
off and breaking the zipper so that he could shove the fabric off his hips. Pressing the head of his cock to her slick entrance, he bent his head, capturing her nipple in his mouth as he slid into her tight heat with a deep, dark growl.
Her silky walls clamped around him, pulling him deeper until he was seated to the base. Her sharp cry reverberated around the room, and when she arched against him, clawing at his back and shoulders, he nearly lost his fucking mind.
One day, he’d make love to her properly. He’d shower her with attention in a room filled with candlelight and roses as he worshiped her body on an actual bed. This wasn’t that day.
Pulling back until on the flared crowned remained hidden, he paused, then plunged forward, driving into her heated core. Hard and fast, he took her against the wall, pounding into his mate with an urgency he couldn’t tame. He’d always been the calm one, the one who could keep his head while everyone around him devolved into chaos, but not with Kamara. Her very presence stirred something inside him, something primitive and dangerous, and her touch ignited long-buried instincts and desires.
She stripped away the mask of civility he presented to the world, laying him bare and vulnerable at her feet. When they were joined like this, body and soul, her cries just as loud as his, her movements just as eager, she anchored him. She offered him a safe place to lose control, and he took it without question, because he knew when he fell apart, she’d be right there to catch him and put the pieces back together.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Kamara stared into his eyes as she moved with him, encouraging him to take what he needed. “I’ll always catch you,” she panted, her voice ragged and breathless. “Let go, Nik. Let go and let me catch you.”
Her words undid him, leaving him powerless to deny her anything.
Their tempo increased, every snap of his hips coming harder and faster. Nearing the pinnacle of release, he insinuated a hand between their slick bodies, searching for the swollen bundle of nerves that would send her flying.
Slipping between her wet crease, he found her clit with his thumb, stroking it in tandem to his thrusts. Crying out, Kamara dropped her head back to the wall and tensed, her body tightening as her velvety heat constricted around his pulsing cock.