He stared at her, feeling the last scrap of his questionable honor slip away as his hungered gaze settled on the pulse that throbbed between the delicate bones and tendons of her outstretched wrist.
He should have refused the temptation. He should have found another way - anything but the solution that was offered before him now. The one that would bind him to Tavia irrevocably. Eternally.
But even as he struggled to deny the thing his heart craved most, Chase found himself positioned above her on the bed. With utmost care and trembling hands, he lifted her arm up toward his mouth. Set the sharp tips of his fangs against her tender skin.
Swore under his breath as he sank them into her vein and drew the first taste of her blood. Holy hell, she was sweet.
Her blood hit his tongue like nectar from a forbidden vine. He drank her down, feeling a rush of electricity and power blast into every starving cell of his body. The strength of it hit him like a blow to the chest. An explosion that awakened his senses, lit them up with the force of a supernova.
He'd heard the blood bond was a powerful thing, but he hadn't been prepared. Not even close. Some distant bit of logic reminded him that Tavia was not only Breedmate but Breed, the intensity of that combination making itself known to him now, as he felt her blood rocketing through him.
The humans he'd fed upon to excess so often before could've been made of dust for all he knew now. Tavia's blood was a drug unlike anything he'd ever tasted before.
He couldn't get enough of her.
His mouth fastened tightly over her wrist, he drank hard and deep.
He couldn't make himself stop.
Not even when her hand curled into a fist and the tendons in her arm went taut beneath his lips. Not even when she gave a little moan, calling his name on an uncertain gasp. It wasn't until he felt her fear, bone-deep and chilling, seeping through their bond that he found the strength to release her. Barely.
Her eyes were wide, dread-filled as she stared at him now. No longer glowing amber with pleasure and desire, but bright green and full of a terror that tore him apart inside.
Her cheeks were pale, her dermaglyphs drained of most of their color. She held her bleeding wrist to her chest, her finger wrapped around the wounds. "Chase," she whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry I panicked. I was afraid. You were taking so much and I ..."
Jesus Christ.
He could hardly bear to think what he might have done if the blood bond hadn't alerted him to her terror. It was his greatest fear, causing her any kind of harm.
To realize how close he'd been just now was more than he could take.
All the worse when what he craved more than anything was to take her beneath him once more and lose himself in the pleasure of her body while he drowned in the sweet intoxication of her blood.
"I can't be near you like this," he heard himself tell her, although his voice was hardly recognizable, even to his own ears. The words sawed out of him in a feral tangle, harsh and sharp-edged. "I can't do this ever again. I won't."
"Chase," she said, reaching out to him with her wounded arm.
The scent of her blood slammed into him like a bullet. He flinched away, averting his gaze as he backed toward the far wall. As far from her as he could get. He glanced to the window and the predawn morning outside. A mental command flung the glass open, bringing with it a rush of bracing winter air.
Tavia got up from the bed and started toward him. "Chase, please. Don't shut me out ... let me help you."
He allowed himself one last look at her. Then he pivoted out the window and vanished into the darkness.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
TAVIA TOOK HER TIME showering and getting dressed, listening for Chase's return.
But it had been more than two hours. Daybreak would be coming soon, and he was still gone. Possibly gone from her life for good.
She staggered under the weight of that thought.
It was impossible to think of her life as it was now - her new life, the one based finally in truth - and not imagine Chase as part of it. She was bonded to him, not only by blood. She cared about him deeply. She loved him, and would have done so even without the unbreakable connection that linked her to him on a visceral, preternatural level.
And because she loved him, she couldn't stay there now.
He was right; what happened between them earlier could never happen again. She'd felt the power of his hunger, the depth of his mounting addiction. She'd felt how intensely he had reacted to her blood. How easy it would have been for him to lose control completely and slide over the edge of an abyss from which he might never return.
She couldn't bear to contribute to his struggle.