He knelt before Elyse and held his hands up to show her they were clean. She relaxed a little, but her teeth chattered; he didn’t know if that was from the cold or shock. The scent of her blood teased his nostrils, and he had to fight to restrain the demon that clamored to sink its fangs into her and turn her.
She was his, she was mortal, and she was injured; he could fix it for her, and he could stake his claim on her. He craved it so badly he almost didn’t care who was here to witness it. But he couldn’t traumatize her in such a way; he’d hate himself forever if he did.
Finally feeling in control of himself enough not to turn her, he spoke. “Can I see your arm?”
Elyse couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the battered remains of the Savage who shattered her left arm with such ease. She’d never seen anything like the brutality Saxon unleashed on the thing. She almost felt sorry for it as he pummeled it into nothing more than a bloody pulp. Even after watching what he’d done to it, she still didn’t fear he would harm her; she just couldnotmove her arm, and then there was his skin….
“Why is your skin like that?” she asked.
“It’s what happens to purebreds when we’re enraged. It’s not blood, and it will fade soon, butnoone is going to take you from me.”
Elyse didn’t know what to make of that statement; she was far too cold and in too much pain to process anything right now. She wanted to cry or scream in agony, but somehow, she managed to keep her tears suppressed and her scream caught in her throat.
“Can I see your arm?” he asked again.
“It hurts,” she whimpered.
“I know,” he said. “I’ve had a break like this a time or two in my life.”
She raised an eyebrow at this revelation, but given what he did for a living, she didn’t see why it surprised her to learn he’d sustained brutal injuries. Gritting her teeth, she kept hold of her elbow as she moved her useless arm toward him.
He gently clasped her wrist as he examined her broken forearm. It was a miracle the fractured pieces of bone hadn’t burst through her skin. “You’re going to need a hospital, or I can give you some of my blood. If you take my blood, it will heal by tomorrow night.”
As tempting as it was to have her arm fixed, she couldnottake his blood. “No.”
“Elyse—”
“No.”
She glanced at Logan and Lucien; they were watching the woods like the trees were about to pull up their roots and stalk toward them, but she knew they were listening. What did it matter? Even if they didn’t know what she could do yet, they would learn about it soon.
“It’s bad enough when someone’s blood getsonme; I have no idea what it would be like if it gotinsideme,” she said. “I might be able to track you for the rest of my life.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
This was nothow he planned to tell her she was his mate, and this was definitelynotthe place, but she had to know he wanted to join their lives together; maybe then she’d stop being so stubborn about taking his blood.
“Elyse, do you remember what I told you about mates?” he asked.
She blinked at the abrupt change in topic. “Yes.”
He lowered his voice and turned to block Logan and Lucien as he clasped her cheeks. “You are mine.”
If he’d dropped a bomb on her, she wouldn’t have been any less astounded. She didn’t know how to respond as she searched his beautiful, hazel eyes. She kept waiting for him to start laughing and yell “Gotcha,” but there was no amusement in his eyes. All she saw in his gaze was a desperate need for her to understand.
“I want to share my life with you.” He’d never felt more vulnerable in his life, and heloathedit. The crunch of steps alerted him that his friends were moving further away. “Which means sharing my blood and taking yours.”
Elyse gulped. “You want to turn me into a vampire?”
“You won’t be like the Savages,” he assured her. “You’ll be like me.”
Ignoring the unease his words created, she rested her hand against his cheek and relished the feel of his stubble pricking her palm. He was so wonderful and strong, and he needed her, but did hewanther?
She recalled what he’d said about how he could never be unhappy with his mate even if he didn’t love her. She could easily lose her heart to him, but she didn’t want to love someone who was simply relieved to have found her. However, none of that mattered; she couldn’t take his blood. She cared too much about him to risk him in such a way.
“If the Savages get their hands on me again—”
“That’snotgoing to happen,” he interjected.
