Crimson Highlander (Onyx Assassins 2)

“You overstep, my king,” I warned quietly.

He arched an eyebrow at me and then looked down at my mate. “You feed him, or you see that he feeds. He’s going to get someone killed out there if he goes without much longer.”

Valor’s gasp was soft, but I felt it echo in every cell in my fucking body like someone had taken a dagger and sliced my very skin.

“He’s going to get himself killed, Valor.” Alek left with that parting blow, walking away like he hadn’t just fucked over my relationship or whatever this was, in the name of doing what he thought was right.

Not that he wasn’t right.

He was.

That’s why I was so fucking pissed that my muscles vibrated with rage. This was a no-win situation. Biology demanded that I feed from Valor at least once. My instincts bellowed to pin her to the wall, strip those skin-tight workout pants from her sweet legs so I could fuck her while my fangs sank deep into her vein, filling her while she filled me.

My body was rejecting all other blood sources.

Valor didn’t want this.

I didn’t want…or do you? The thought didn’t have much time to take hold as the three women made their way up the stairs. Olivia and Avi nodded as they passed by. Had we been in public, I would have bowed my head to the princess, but she hated the formalities when we were in the privacy of the residence, so I merely nodded in response.

“Is that true?” Valor folded her arms across her chest, her ponytail swishing lightly as she tilted her head at me. Her heart rate was still elevated from her workout…or was there another reason?

“I’m not sure how much you heard.” I palmed my cell phone, looking for any excuse to get out of this conversation.

“The part where you’re going to get yourself killed if you don’t feed. And I thought you were feeding?” She stared me down even though I was almost a foot taller, but along with the anger, there was that flash of jealousy in her eyes I both craved and abhorred.

She had nothing to be jealous over.

“I’m feeding,” I assured her. It wasn’t a lie. It just also wasn’t the entire truth.

“Then what was that about?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” I swiped my phone to the home screen.

She fucking took it away like I was a toddler who couldn’t pay attention. “Nope. You’re here with me for the moment.”

“Valor—” My vision went thermal as my body went into predator mode. Her nearness was fucking with me in ways I couldn’t deny. Alek had gone ten days before he’d forced himself to feed from Lyric, and he was the strongest of us all. How long could I make it on mouthfuls taken sporadically? Five days? Maybe seven?

Bite. Taste. Claim.

“I know I may have flown off the handle a little, but I’d rather you eat than put yourself in danger.” Her body was a mass of red and pink, heat radiating off her.

I slammed my eyes shut and counted to ten.

“Are you seriously praying for patience or something?” She blew out an exasperated sigh.

When I pried my eyes open, my vision was normal again, thank God. “I’m fine. I’m feeding. Alek is annoyed because the situation we’re in makes me dangerous.” That was close enough to the truth.

“Because of the whole not accepting the bond thing.” She shifted on her feet.

“Yes. It’s basically like sitting in the middle of the intersection at a yellow light. You know it’s about to turn red at any moment, and you’re just hoping you can make it through before it does.” My voice was gruff and dismissive, but the longer I was this close to her while hunger beat at me, the more danger she was in. At least sex distracted the hunger, which was ironic. The woman was safer when she was naked in my bed.

“I get that,” she said softly. “What’s a blood bag?” Her nose scrunched, and I nearly laughed at how fucking cute it was—maybe I was closer to going mad than I realized. “Like…the donated stuff at the hospital?”

“Yep. It does the job but tastes like…” I struggled to find a way to describe the difference without triggering another wave of hunger. “You know how fresh green beans taste? How they’re so crisp, they snap?”

She nodded. “My mother kept a vegetable garden before she died. I both loved and loathed snapping the beans before dinner.” A small smile played across her mouth before it faded, and her scent shifted again, flavored with the heavy, cloying potpourri of grief and the sharp pepper of anger.

What the hell had happened to her mother?

“Anyway, yeah, I know how fresh green beans taste.” She looked at me with expectation.

“Right, that’s fresh blood. Crisp. Flavorful.” My fingers trailed down her neck. Her blood would be flavored with the slight tang of the salt of her for that first swallow. Stop. I stepped back, putting a few feet of space between us as Hawke and Avi started arguing in the background. “Blood bags are like canned green beans you bought last year and need to use before the expiration date. Still nutritious, but soggy and limp.”