How many times has she drunk someone’s blood?
That line of thought vanishes, however, as Sabine’s tongue darts over my bloodstained wrist. The cut stings, but to help her? That kind of pain I’d drink for days.
A moan rattles out of her chest, and with just that one lick, all her inhibitions disappear. She seizes my wrist, fingernails digging in like claws. Her tongue and lips punish my skin as she feverishly laps at the blood.
“That’s it,” I murmur, though my heart slams against my ribs—unsteady, uncertain—as she grows wilder in her need. “Take what you need.”
For a few frenzied moments, she sucks and claws and kisses at my wrist until my blood drips down her chin.
“Yes,” I hiss as she grows almost feral. “Drink me down to the dregs, if that’s what you need.”
At this, she comes up for air and blinks, almost as if seeing me for the first time. Her pupils are round as buttons.
Her gaze moves to my lips. I hear her pulse suddenly speed in her veins.
“I want…somethingelse.”
Like an animal, she pounces on me. Her small arms pull tight around my neck, straining on tiptoe, trying to climb me like a tree with no branches.
“Kiss me, Basten,” she gasps.
“Gods, little violet.”
She’s getting blood all over both our mouths—tangy on my tongue like metal. She’s so frantic that it’s all I can do to scoop her up around the waist, bring her closer, one hand supporting her ass.
She locks her legs around my waist, fingernails twisting in my hair as she thrusts her tongue between my teeth.
I pick up on murmurs in the crowd as the townspeople’s mood shifts—from fascination to something more uncomfortable. Embarrassment. Like they’re witnesses to something too intimate and don’t know where to look now.
Gently, I try to break the kiss. We can continue this in her bedroom.
But she meets my attempt with a growl as her arms latch tighter around my neck, thighs squeezing my hips. My lungs constrict. I don’t think a monoceros could drag her away from me.
Oblivious to the shocked onlookers, she rolls her hips against mine, needy and demanding. An indecent moan rolls off her lips.
“Fuck me right here,” she begs, so loud that people a hundred paces away could hear. “Hard. I need your cock in me now.”
My jaw unhinges. Her father is twenty paces away. The rest of the fae, too. As well as a hell of a lot of little old ladies carrying sweet, embroidered quilts to lay on Vale’s altar. With their wide-eyed grandchildren in tow.
Sabine nips at my jaw, hot breath full of lust. And just like that, I realize she isn’t going to make it to the bedroom.
“Everyone,” I shout in a hoarse voice. “Get the fuck out right now.”
A handful of onlookers quickly shuffle away, cheeks burning red, but uncertain murmurs find their way to my ears as some people linger, too caught up in wonder to tear themselves away from Sabine’s transformation.
I crane my neck back toward Vale and shout, “Tell them to fuckinggo!”
The other fae flinch at my tone, but Vale remains stoney-faced. However, he unclenches his arms and slowly raises one hand toward the gate.
“Leave us, everyone,” he commands.
His voice is deep enough to shake the earth itself. Shrieking, people in the amphitheater scramble up the stairs toward the exits, flowing like water from the Garden of Ten Gods until the only thing remaining is someone’s still-bleating goat.
Sabine lunges at my shirt, ripping off the buttons like it’s the last barrier between her and salvation, and tugs it free of my arms.
Bare-chested, I throw a glare toward the five gods. “You, too, fuckers.”
Vale growls with that earth-shaking voice, “She needs guidance.”
