Aurelia gasps and stiffens, like she’s bracing herself for excruciating agony.
I want to pause—suck on her pulse first, make her come for me so that when I do finally sink my teeth into her, the pain is overwhelmed by other sensations.
But I can’t do that.
So, I don’t prolong it too much. I open my mouth and give her no additional warning before I let my teeth elongate, and sink my fangs into her throat.
Aurelia lets out a sound, somewhere between a scream and a moan. Her entire body goes stiff, muscles tensing for several long seconds as her blood floods my mouth. I retract my teeth from her skin and then I don’t mean to, but I drag my tongue over the spot once.
She slumps forward, completely boneless, and I instinctively throw my arms out to catch her against my chest. “Are you hurt?”
“Hurt?” She sounds dazed. She looks up at me, her entire face flushed, and it takes a second for her eyes to come back into focus. Then she immediately slaps a hand to her throat and straightens up, taking a step backward. “Oh. Um, not that much. It’s fine.”
I drag a thumb over my bottom lip, wiping away a streak of her blood. I have an insane urge to suck my finger into my mouth, tasting the last drops of her, but I force myself to ignore the impulse and wipe my hand on my trousers.
Aurelia isn’t even looking at me. She’s staring into space, with her hand clapped over the mark. She shifts her hand and my gaze falls on the bite.
Suddenly, I’m at war with myself again.
This was the worst fucking idea imaginable, but fuck if I don’t like the way that bite looks against her skin.
Ifucking came.
I’m dazed and still reeling from the entire experience. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before—I don’t even understandhowit happened.
I wasn’t thinking about sex at all when I climbed up onto the trunk. I was nervous, and already half-regretting everything that led me up to this point.
I was sure the bite would be painful, and I had to brace myself for that agony and try to remember why I’m doing this.
Returning to Vernallis is not an option, I have to find out if my mother and sister are here, and if staying with the wolves is the best way to do that, then I’m willing to put myself through almost anything—even pretending to be bonded to Fox.
I could tell that Fox was uncomfortable too, but willing, which made it somehow easier.
If he was strongly opposed, or even disgusted by pretending to be my bond—or, “mate”—then it would have felt different. After the other night, my pride never would have let me go through with it. He doesn’t want to be with me, and I have too much self-respect to beg or keep seeking out his attention.
But since we both understand that this is no more than a safety precaution…
He gripped my hair, tilting my head for better access and I closed my eyes.
I was expecting pain, so I was shocked when a sudden, intense orgasm tore through my entire body. I’m not sure I’ve ever come that hard before, and he wasn’t even touching me. I can only imagine what it would feel like if we had been…
Never mind.
What’s done is done, and now I should be safe to remain here for the next few weeks until it’s time to go to the castle.
Unfortunately, there might be more complications to our pretend bonding—sorry, “mating”—than just the bite mark.
There’s only one bed in this tent, and not a very large one at that. Worse, the tent is only one room, which means that things as simple as changing my clothes could become awkward. I’m terrified to even ask about the bathing facilities, doubting I will like the answer.
Fox and I barely talk again until it’s time to leave for dinner. He takes a seat at the wooden table, crosses his arms and closes his eyes. Clearly, he isn’t as bothered as I am by not having anything to amuse himself. I wish I had brought books or something from home.
Maybe the previous owners of this tent had something to read. Is it appropriate to rifle through the belongings of a dead couple? It seems a little callous, but after another half hour ofmonotonous silence, I decide that my need is greater than the previous owners and get up to search the trunk.
To my dismay, all I find in there is some extra armor, which looks like it belonged to a relatively tall woman, and various pairs of men’s shirts and trousers. There is also some soap and a few tattered towels, a couple of bowls and spoons, and an extra blanket, but no books or cards or anything that might help pass the time.
Fox opens one eye. “What are you looking for?”
“Something to do,” I mutter.
