“Drink!” She presses her wrist against my lips, and the scent of her blood—honey and cinnamon and something uniquelyher—floods my senses.
Every rule I’ve ever made shatters in that instant.
My fangs extend fully, venom flooding my mouth, and I can feel my eyes going from white to completely black.The monster is in control now, the vampire that’s been starving for a taste of her for two years, and she’s offering herself willingly.
No.This is wrong.This will kill her.This—
“Please,” she whispers, and that one word breaks me.
I bite.
The first pull of her blood is rapture.
Sweet, potent, alive in ways that make every other blood I’ve ever tasted seem like ash.It floods my system like liquid fire, chasing away the frost, igniting my healing factor into overdrive.Power surges through me, more than blood should give, more than human vitality can explain.
Because Tessa isn’t just human.
She’s a warden.Her bloodline has been touched by angels, shaped by ancient magic, designed to stand against things like the Khorvath.
And I’m drinking herpower.
The wounds on my chest knit closed.The frost in my veins melts away.Strength returns to my limbs in a rush that’s almost painful, and I can feel myself changing, not just healing, but becomingmore.Faster.Stronger.The world sharpens to crystal clarity, every sound, every scent, every nuance amplified beyond what even vampire senses should perceive.
And underneath it all, I feelher.
Her fear.Her determination.Her fierce, stubborn refusal to let me die.
The bond snaps into place like a chain wrapping around both our souls.
I gasp, pulling back from her wrist, and our eyes lock.Hers are wide, pupils blown, and I can feel what she’s feeling, the echo of my emotions bleeding into hers, the connection forging itself whether we want it or not.
“Vex?”Her voice is shaky.“What—”
The Khorvath screams.
It’s sensed the bond.Sensed the power shift.And it’sfurious.
Every tendril lashes out at once, a coordinated strike meant to overwhelm us.But I’m ready now.More than ready.
I’malive.
I surge to my feet, positioning myself between Tessa and the creature, and when the tendrils come, I meet them head-on.My claws are longer now, sharper, glowing with a strange light and they tear through the ice like paper.Each strike sends shockwaves through the Khorvath’s form, disrupting its structure, and I canfeelit weakening.
Because I’m not fighting it alone anymore.
Through the bond, I can sense Tessa’s presence like a second heartbeat.Her warden bloodline resonates with something in me, vampire and guardian, predator and protector, two halves of a whole that should never have existed but somehowwork.
The mark on her shoulder flares brilliant white, and the Khorvath recoils.
“No!” it shrieks.“She is mine!The warden belongs to me!”
“Wrong,” I snarl, and my voice is layered now, human and inhuman, carrying power I didn’t have minutes ago.“She’s under the protection of the Kings.She’s marked byus.And you don’t get to touch her.”
I lunge forward, claws raking across the creature’s torso.This time, when I strike, it doesn’t regenerate.Golden light—where is that coming from?—traces the wounds, sealing them, preventing the ice from reforming.
The bond.It’s the bond.Tessa’s warden blood is flowing through me, giving me access to power that can actuallyhurtthis thing.
The Khorvath realizes it too.
