Right now, I need to reassure Dante. To feel close to him the only way I can. It’s like he just peeled back a layer of himself and showed he’s not always the cool, collected, confident guy I thought I knew. He showed me his soft underbelly and then looked so wretched about it. I thought he was going to tear out of here without another word and I wouldn’t see him for six months.
I can’t have that.
If I’m honest, I’ve felt this strange connection with him ever since we first met. It was like something between us just clicked into place.
I feel something similar but different with each of the Nexus mages, too. Not just because I’m attracted to them, either. It’s like a part of me recognizes something in them. There’s Roscoe’s sense of adventure and fun, Fabian’s steady strength, and Zeph’s barely contained intensity.
I need them. All of them. However greedy that might make me.
The little groan Dante lets out is so full of need, he has my thighs clenching. His tongue tangles with mine and he drags me closer until I’m wrapping my legs around his waist and feeling his thick hardness press up against my core.
Part of me wants to drag him into the nearest quiet corner and strip, see what else his talent tongue can do.
That’s insanity, of course. Probably the exhaustion and the chaos of this night making me lose all sense.
A memory plows into me and I remember exactly how good it felt to have Dante feed me his blood, how desperately I wanted for him to fill me with his cock at the same time.
Not right now, though. This was supposed to be a peck on the lips. An acknowledgement that whatever wild things he’s feeling, I’m feeling them too.
I pull back, panting. My cheeks feel flushed and my underwear is growing slicker by the second.
I’m a mess.
Then the guilt hits. What the fuck am I doing? I haven’t heard from Zeph since his plea for me to get here. I have no clue what state Roscoe is going to be in when I see him. I should not be wasting time making out with sexy as sin vampires.
“I should get upstairs.”
Dante nods, looking into my eyes with an intensity that could cut steel.
“You sure you don’t want to come up with me?”
He shakes his head silently, like I’ve robbed him of the ability to speak. It sends a little zing through me with the thrill of having power over someone like Dante.
“All right then, I’ll let you know how he is.”
“Thank you.” A soft peck to my lips, like he can’t help himself, and then he steps back. “Text or call. It doesn’t matter what time it is. If you need me, I’ll be here.”
His words fill my chest with warmth as I head to the elevator. Heading inside, I then gape at my disheveled appearance in the mirrored wall. Dante just made out withthis?My hair is a mess. I’m covered in my blood and there are grass stains all over me from where I dropped out of the upper floor window.
Doing my best to wipe away the worst of the dirt, I can’t do much about the rest. I reach the med bay floor and head down an endless white corridor. My hands shake as I get closer and I try to keep my cool. No point panicking now. I just need to see him.
Roscoe’s lying in bed, his long, dark hair fanning across the white pillow like a dark halo. On either side of him are Seb and Zeph, who have their attention focused on him, like they’re keeping him alive with the power of their stares.
From my spot just inside the doorway, he looks... peaceful. The familiar laugh lines on his face are smooth. Like he’s a dark angel, resting for the moment.
I summon the final dregs of my magic and examine him for myself. Pulling up my blood magic, I can sense he’s no longer bleeding, but he must have lost a ton of it before anyone found him. He’s hooked up to a bag of spelled blood right now and I briefly wonder if this is the reason Dante didn’t want to come up here. Whether the sight of it would strain his control when he seems to be struggling more than usual.
My hands clench into fists, and I shove them into my pockets. Roscoe’s heart is beating steadily, a little faster than usual, probably thanks to his body working harder than it would typically.
That’s good.
He’s good.
I let out a deep sigh of relief that goes right down to my soul.
He’s here. Breathing. All in one piece. Thank everything that’s holy.
As if he can sense my attention on him, Roscoe’s eyes fly open and my knees feel suddenly weak. I stumble into the room, trying for a grin and failing.
