Impossible. Logan’s nose worked frantically, searching for any trace of vampire scent. Nothing. Just Nick—white tea and warm skin and that underlying sweetness that drove Logan’s wolf crazy.
Nick had a pure human scent with no hint of anything preternatural.
Before Logan could process what the hell was going on, Nick’s strength surged. He twisted hard, breaking one wrist free and immediately going for Logan’s throat. Not to choke.
To bite.
Logan caught the freed hand just in time, but the momentum sent them both stumbling.
Using Nick’s forward motion, Logan spun him toward the couch, trying to control the fall. They went down together, Logan’s weight pressing Nick into the cushions. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to immobilize. His mate bucked underneath him, still trying to get those fangs close to Logan’s neck.
A door flew open down the hall. Myron appeared for half a second, took in the scene, then let out a sound somewhere between a squeak and a yelp. “Sorry!” The door slammed shut so hard the walls rattled.
The guy thought Logan and Nick were fooling around on the couch instead of Logan pinning his mate down for both their safety. If Myron thought this level of aggression was foreplay…
Logan secured Nick’s wrists above his head, using his body weight to keep him pressed into the cushions. Sweat beaded on Nick’s forehead, his hair damp and sticking to his temples. His eyes remained unfocused, glazed, seeing something beyond this room.
Understanding crashed through Logan like a physical blow. The episodes. The exhaustion. The way Nick’s body seemed to be eating itself from the inside.
His mate was starving.
Not for food, but for blood. A vampire who didn’t know he was a vampire, whose body was crying out for sustenance it had never received.
Making a decision that went against every self-preservation instinct he should have had, Logan shifted his weight and bared his throat. “Here. Take what you need.”
Nick lunged instantly. Fangs pierced skin, sliding in deep.
The pain was brief, replaced immediately by something else. Heat spread from the bite, pooling low in Logan’s belly. His cock hardened against his will, his body responding to the intimate act of feeding his mate.
Logan forced himself still, one hand cradling the back of his mate’s head while the other gripped the couch. Blood flowed steadily, each pull making his head swim slightly. Nick made soft, desperate sounds as he fed, his fingers clutching at Logan’s shirt.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, stroking Nick’s hair. “Take what you need. I’ve got you.”
Nick’s throat worked as he swallowed, each pull sending sparks through Logan’s nervous system. His mate’s body gradually relaxed, the desperate edge fading into something almost peaceful. Logan kept petting his hair, murmuring to him, ignoring his arousal.
The only priority right now was feeding his mate, giving him the nourishment Nick hadn’t known he needed.
Nick’s entire body went rigid. His grip loosened, the pull of his lips abruptly ending.
No!” Logan shouted the same time Nick yanked his mouth away, tearing the puncture wounds wider. Blood ran down Logan’s neck, soaking into his collar.
Nick scrambled backward off the couch, eyes wide with panic, blood staining his mouth crimson. Logan yanked his shirt over his head in one motion, pressing the fabric against his neck to staunch the flow.
Fuck, his neck hurt.
For one frozen moment, Nick stared at him, his expressions cycling through horror, disgust, and naked fear. He wiped at his mouth, leaving a smear of red across his cheek.
“Nick—”
His mate turned and bolted down the hallway, feet slapping against hardwood, and then he slammed his bedroom door with enough force to shake the apartment.
A vampire.
Something Nick clearly hadn’t known about himself.
Logan sat there in the quiet, chest heaving, blood seeping into the wadded shirt pressed against his neck. He wanted to go after his mate, but Nick needed time to process. Sometimes the kindest thing was being given space to fall apart before having to face reality.
Instead, Logan grabbed his phone off the coffee table. He needed to call his alpha.
