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)
And I carry his child.
Eris, on the other hand, is an unknown. I don’t know what she’s capable of—
Except that I do.
She cut out the hearts of two dead vampires.
And she’d probably love to cut mine out if given the chance. I’m the woman carrying the child of her mate.
I clutch my belly in a protective gesture, the life inside me fluttering again. The energy I feel from this small being is a comfort in the encompassing darkness.
I jerk at a knock on the door. It’s not harsh, but low and unassuming as if its goal is to notify rather than alert. My heart skips a beat, and I freeze as I walk from my bedroom and press myself against the wall next to the doorway. The edges of panic gnaw at me.
The knock comes again, more insistent this time.
“Open up, princess.”
That voice. The voice that soothes me, makes me whole.
Rogan. It’s Rogan.
Relief and terror intertwine inside. I don’t move for a moment, unsure if opening the door will bring salvation or doom. For all I know, he’s already bound himself to Eris and he’s come to…
To what?
To end me?
No. To do that would mean ending our child as well. Rogan would never harm him.
“Please,” he adds after a moment of silence, his voice strained as if he’s been running or fighting.
Please?
Rogan hardly ever says please.
My thoughts scatter as I unlock the deadbolt with trembling hands. When I finally swing the door open, Rogan stands, his hair disheveled, his eyes weary yet alert. A cut is slashed across his cheek. He looks as though he has been running or fighting. Perhaps both.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice no more than a whisper.
He nods, steps into the apartment, and carefully closes the door behind him. There’s tension in his every movement as he scans the room.
“I need to talk to you,” he says finally, his voice heavy with something I can’t quite define. Fear? Desperation?
I hesitate but eventually nod. My heart drums along with his.
That resounding beat that pulses his delicious blood through his arteries…
My fangs snap down.
But I hold myself in check. I practice what Alara taught me. I have no physical need for Rogan’s blood, and neither does my child. I breathe in, out, in again.
Rogan follows me into the living area, where we seat ourselves on opposite ends of my small couch. I wrap my arms around my stomach protectively while he leans forward, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together.
He meets my gaze. His green eyes are lit by a flicker of intense emotion that makes my breath hitch in my throat. Silence stretches between us for several moments as the city hums with life outside.
“Hannah…” His voice is husky, laced with an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Eris knows.”
Fear sweeps over me. I swallow hard, bracing myself for the worst. “Knows what?”
“She knows about us. About the baby.”
None of this surprises me. I assumed he would tell her.
“I… I can’t explain, princess, how I’m drawn to her. It’s like it was with you at first, but I…” He stops.
The look on his face is pure torment. I ache to go to him, kiss him, whisper reassurance in his ear.
But that is no longer my place.
I wait for him to continue. A moment. Two. Three. Until—
“For the love of God, Rogan, what?”
“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t mate with her.”
Sheer happiness overtakes me, and for a moment the fear, the doubt, the pain—everything else—just fades. I open my mouth to speak, but he gestures me to stay quiet.
“Please, let me finish.” He shakes his head, runs his hand over his face.
“You can finish later,” I say. “Your cut… You need medical help. I have supplies, and I’m trained to—”
“Stop it!” he roars. “Just stop it now, princess. Do you have any idea what it cost me to come here? To come to you? How much my body wants to be with her?”
Something in me snaps at those words, and I lunge at him, sinking my fangs into the soft flesh of his neck.
49
This isn’t just about blood lust. This is about claiming him, marking him mine against the primal pull Eris represents.
His blood explodes in my mouth, warm and spicy. The dark nectar I’ve come to crave more than air.
Rogan stills underneath me, his gasp of surprise echoing in the silent room. I know he’s hurting, but I need him to understand. This is about me too. About our child. About our needs.
He can’t just come here and expect me not to react when he talks about another woman. Especially not when that woman is Eris. His blood slides over my tongue and down my throat, and I swallow, letting it coat everything inside me, letting it infuse me with the strength I need.
Alara may have shown me that I don’t have a physical need for it. But damn…I sure as hell love it.