“Why did you push me out of the way?”
He said nothing, but the corner of his mouth perked up the tiniest little bit. I rested my hand on his heart, feeling the slow, soft thud. It was so weak.
Fear chilled my skin.
“Grey, you have to hold on.”
But he wouldn’t be able to. I could feel it even now, in the slowing of his heart. How long would it take Miranda to find the healer?
Not in time.
The terrifying thought blasted through me. She wouldn’t find the healer in time. He would die.
Grief pierced my soul. I didn’t want him to die. I didn’t know what he meant to me or how I really felt, but I knew I didn’t want him to die.
The memory of his bite at Temple Church flashed in my mind. My blood had healed him then. It could heal him now.
It was worth a try.
My heart pounding violently, I leaned over him and pressed my neck to his mouth. “Drink, Grey.”
He didn’t move.
Fear pulsed through me.
I climbed on top of him, straddling his hard body so that my neck was better aligned with his mouth. I gripped his hair in one hand, lifted his head, and pressed his lips to my neck. “Bite me.”
A low groan tore from his throat, and his lips parted. Despite their chill, they were soft and smooth against my skin. When his tongue swiped against my skin, heat blazed in its wake.
I shuddered, unable to help myself.
Grey’s fangs sank into my flesh, slowly and precisely. Pleasure exploded through me, and every muscle in my body seemed to clench.
When he began to draw on my blood, I moaned.
He mirrored the noise, a groan escaping his throat. His strong hands gripped me, one at my waist and one at my head, holding me pinned against him. I felt like prey, but…
I liked it.
Ecstasy streaked through me as he fed, his tongue laving and soothing the faint burn of his bite. I moved against him, craving friction and heat.
As he drank, his strength returned. I could feel it in his grip, in the warmth of his skin and the pounding of his pulse. He rolled me over and pressed me down into the mattress with his weight.
Fear flared, briefly, but it gave my desire an edge. I reached up and sank my hands into his hair, clamping my legs around his waist. He moved against me, thrusting in a rhythm that made pleasure coil deep within me.
It tightened, threatening to take me over the edge.
Instead, a vision flashed in my mind: Grey, drinking me to the death.
Not now, but in the future. Sometime soon. Fear chased away the heat.
The bite that brought such pleasure would also bring my end.
13
Grey
The world had become a cocoon of lavender and heat. My head spun as Carrow’s blood spilled over my tongue, hot and delicious.