Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Once I’ve taken a good amount, I withdraw my fangs and look at him. His green eyes are wide, mouth slightly open, a mix of shock and something else playing across his face. Understanding? Anger?
I lick the small wound closed.
He cups both my cheeks. “I’ve missed you, princess.”
“You say that after I take your blood?”
“I’ve missed…” He runs his hands through his hair. “It surprises the hell out of me. I’ve become accustomed to feeding you. Maybe I need it as much as you do.”
I roll my eyes. “I seriously doubt that.”
His irises swirl. “Never doubt me.”
“Would you let me take care of that cut now? Please?”
I look around, puzzled. Where did Alara go? I thought she was staying with me. She made me tea, for God’s sake. Told me my father would want her here.
“Later, princess,” he says. He runs a hand down his face, looking utterly worn. “Right now, I need—”
I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. Even though I’ve just fed, his musky lupine scent washes over me like a tidal wave.
“You need?” I ask. “What do you need?”
“You.”
All the air leaves my lungs at once, as if he’s struck me. Sex? He wants sex now?
“Rogan…”
“No.” He shakes his head and drops his hands, intertwining his fingers with mine. “Let me finish, Hannah.”
I draw in a breath as I nod.
“I told Eris everything,” he says again, this time in a softer voice. “About us. About our child.”
“And what did she say?” I whisper.
“She was furious, of course.” He tightens his grip on my fingers, his knuckles white against his dirty skin. “She threatened the child, Hannah.”
Though I already knew all this from Alara, a sickening dread clutches at my heart anyway.
“She’s powerful enough to do it,” Rogan continues, “and she’s vindictive as hell.”
“So you came here to warn me,” I say.
“Yes. I couldn’t risk anything happening to either of you.”
I don’t reply at first. This isn’t news to me, but Rogan doesn’t know of my dealings with Alara.
Silence stretches between us. The small life movement inside me feels more vulnerable than ever, a tiny thing against the tempest of the world. The desire—no, the urge—to protect him becomes stronger than ever.
If I have to kill Eris?
I fucking will.
“Where is she?” I grit out.
Rogan doesn’t answer, and it doesn’t matter. I already know what has to happen. I must protect my child no matter what. Not only as a mother, but as a vampire princess. Alara prophesied that this child was destined for something great.
He needs to be born.
And he needs to live.
I already know my destiny. It’s not to kill my stepfather, the demon king, as the demons tried to convince Rogan and me.
It’s to kill Eris.
This is a she-wolf that cut out the hearts of two dead vampires. For what?
“Rogan,” I say, “did you ask her about the vampires’ hearts?”
“I didn’t get a chance. When I refused to mate with her, she ran off.”
“My God…” I rub my forehead.
“Princess…” His voice is low, nearly a growl.
“Yes?”
“I need you. I need you now.”
50
I raise my gaze to meet his. His eyes—those beautiful emerald eyes—burn with intensity. The passion crackles between us like a high voltage current. With a shaky breath, I release his hand and reach for the raw wound slashed across his cheek.
“Princess…” he murmurs again, softer this time.
“Yes?” I brush my fingers over the tender skin. I feel his pulse against my fingertips, steady yet frantic. It matches my own.
He pulls me closer until our bodies are pressed together. I let out a sigh, leaning into him as our hearts beat in sync.
“I need you too,” I whisper before pressing my lips to his.
He tightens his grip around me as he deepens the kiss. I tangle my hands in his hair, pulling him closer and losing myself in the overpowering taste of him—the wildness, the need, the sheer ache.
Every moment with Rogan is an intoxicating mix of danger and desire. The taste of his blood still lingers on my tongue, a potent reminder of his power over me. I pull back slightly and search his gaze.
“Let me help you with your wound,” I say again. “You know I’m qualified, and for once, I have the necessary items since we’re here at my place.”
“Princess,” he murmurs, “you’ve already healed me.”
My touch.
He once told me that my touch healed him better than anything else.
His words send shivers down my spine, and when I look closer at the wound, I see he’s right. It’s healing. Already it looks less severe than it did only moments earlier.
“I said I need you, princess,” he growls. “And I believe I said ‘now.’”
I push him gently onto my couch and straddle his waist.
I lean down and brush my lips against the raw wound, grazing my teeth lightly over the torn flesh.