The light that was in his eyes dims. “They’re a reminder,” he answers before walking out of sight.
The next few days,we seem to settle into a kind of routine. He helps set up the bar and even serves when it gets busy. Cleaning up is taking half the amount of time it normally would. Dare I say that I’m liking having him around. The hospital pouches are now gone, and both of our thirsts are growing. As I wipe down the last Table, Silas walks over, snatches the cloth from my hand, and discards it onto the bar. “You need to feed. I need to feed,” he points out.
I swallow, the craving clawing its way through me, making it harder to ignore. I give him a brief nod. He holds out his hand; I place mine in his, ignoring how it makes my stomach flip. “Want to make it interesting?” he challenges,
I arch my brow. “Go on,” I encourage.
“First one to get the prey gets the first bite,” his eyes flash with amusement.
I smirk, dropping his hand and taking a step back. I tilt my head to the side, my eyes assessing him. “You’re on; just remember not to get distracted,” I rush out, grabbing the hem of my black tank top and lifting it, exposing bare breasts. His onyx eyes immediately darken, if that’s even possible. I throw my head back and laugh, taking off in a sprint out of the bar. “Men are so fucking easy!” I yell over my shoulder as I make my way through the forest. I can hear him behind me, fast approaching. I can’t contain the laughter as I run. The laughter soon dies when I pick up a scent. I turn right and sprint, the desire, the bloodthirst building and burning, fueling me to run faster, harder.
I spot a small orange tent in the distance, just on the edge of the ridge. I inhale, the scent growing stronger. I slow to a creep as I circle the tent. Silas comes up beside me. All amusement drains from his face. In its place is a ravenous hunger, the predatory gaze searing from his onyx eyes. The predator is about to get his prey. I slowly and silently unzip the tent. Lying there on his back, sound asleep, is a male hiker. A slow, evil grin spreads across my face. “Jackpot,” I whisper. The guy startles and sits up, his eyes wide.
“What? What are you doing?” he yells, half asleep.
I mask my face, blinking rapidly as though I’ve been crying. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been wandering for hours. I lost my friends. I’m so scared,” I say in a soft, helpless whimper.
He rubs his face and sits up. “It’s okay, I can help you,” he says, offering, his eyes roaming over my body, lingering on my bare breasts.Pervert. He shifts aside to let me climb into his tent. I give him a soft smile and crawl in beside him. “You’re young to be out here on your own,” he points out, his eyes still lingering on my chest.Seriously, I don’t feel bad for taking his life now. He hasn’t even offered a top to cover myself with. This guy is a sexual predator. I might rip his dick off for the fun of it.“Would you like to warm up in my sleeping bag?” I roll my eyes at the fact that he thinks I’d be dumb enough to fall for that shit. I move, taking him by surprise, and straddle his lap, looking down on him seductively. He’s stunned, and from what I think I can feel, aroused.Eww.Although it’s small, it could just be his keys.
A low growl radiates from behind me. The guy sits up, startled. What was that? I roll my eyes. “Just another vampire; he’s just waiting for his turn,” I quip.
“Wha—” His words die as I sink my teeth into his neck. The warm blood pumping into my mouth fills me with euphoria. Alow moan escapes my throat as I continue to drink, his body slowly going limp beneath me.
I feel Silas at my side, lifting the guy’s arm to his mouth, keeping his black eyes on me as he sinks his teeth into the flesh. A deep, low groan rumbles from his chest as he drinks. His eyes never leave mine as blood coats our mouths. His gaze is full of desire, hunger, and want. Heat coils in my stomach; arousal pools between my legs. His eyes flare, scenting me. I stop feeding, blood dripping down my chin, along my neck to my chest. Silas’s eyes follow the droplet. Releasing his mouth, he pauses, waiting for my next move. The air between us is electric; one touch from him and I think I might combust. I don’t look away as I reach between my breasts with my forefinger, swiping it through the droplet of blood before placing it in my mouth and sucking it clean. His restraint is hanging by a thread; a slow smile plays on my lips. “Give in to the desire. Fuck me, Silas,” I whisper. For a moment, I think he’s going to fight it, until he launches at me.
He moves, rolling me onto my back, pinning me beneath him. “I’ve been waiting over twenty-seven fucking years for you to say that. Prepare yourself, because once I’m buried inside you, I don’t think I will be able to stop,” he growls. A promise, a threat, I welcome.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LILITH
Pinned beneath him,I realize with a startling clarity that this hunger, this closeness, is the only thing that has felt right since I turned. Since the world sharpened and broke into blood and shadow. My leg hooks around his hip, pulling him closer, grinding my centre against him with a deliberate need. “You’ve waited all these years, Silas,” I breathe, my voice trembling with something feral. “Don’t wait any longer. Fuck me.” There’s no shame in it. No restraint. Only hunger. Maybe it’s the hunt. Maybe it’s the blood thirst still burning through my veins. Maybe it’s him. I don’t care. For once, I don’t want the noise in my mind, the endless thoughts clawing for control. I want instinct. I want to surrender. I want to feel. For a split second, his eyes flare, something ancient and dangerous flickering gold in the dark.
Then he crashes his mouth to mine. The kiss is brutal, consuming. His mouth takes mine like a claim, his tongue forcing past my lips, commanding, devouring. The taste of him—dark, metallic, intoxicating—ignites something wild in me. His grip loosens just enough. I wrench my hands free and tear athim, desperate. My fingers drag down his chest, nails biting into hard muscle. A low, animal growl rumbles from him, vibrating straight through me. Not enough. I rip his shirt open, fabric tearing beneath my hands. He pulls back just enough to break the kiss, blood smeared across his mouth, his expression edged with something wicked and unrestrained. The faint curl of his lips is dangerous and utterly devastating.
Cool air kisses my exposed skin, but his gaze burns hotter than any flame. He kneels between my legs, looming over me. Dark, scarred, beautiful. Blood streaks his chest where my hands have marked him. His dark hair falls into his eyes, shadowing that predatory stare that makes my breath catch. He looks like ruin. Like sin. Like everything I shouldn’t want, and everything I do. His hands move more slowly now, deliberate, torturous. Each button of my jeans was undone with agonizing patience, as though savoring every second of my unraveling. My body aches with it. When he finally drags them down, discarding them carelessly, whatever patience he had vanishes. His control slips. Good. I don’t want gentle. I don’t want careful. I want him.
His hand glides down my body—slow, claiming—until I gasp at the first touch where I need him most. My hips lift instinctively, chasing more. “Silas?—”
“Feed,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, threaded with something darker than desire. “Feed… and feel.”
The corpse beside us is still warm. I hesitate only a second before instinct takes over. He moves me effortlessly, flipping me onto my knees, one hand pressing firmly against my back, holding me there, positioning me. I sink my fangs into flesh, the rush of blood flooding my senses, thick and intoxicating. And behind me. Him. The dual sensation is overwhelming. The taste of life draining into me, the heat of his body, the deliberate way he touches me, building, pushing, unravelling me piece bydevastating piece. Pleasure coils tight, fed by every swallow, every breath, every movement.
“I can smell you,” he growls, voice rough with hunger. “Sweet…so fucking addictive.” The loss when he pulls away is sharp and almost painful. But it’s replaced instantly. His mouth. Pure heat. Pressure and devotion. He doesn’t hold back now. He consumes, devours, drives me higher with a relentless precision until the world fractures into sensation.
“Silas—” I choke, my voice breaking. Too much. Not enough. It’s everything at once. The pressure builds, unbearable, completely unstoppable, until it snaps. The sound that tears from me isn’t human. It’s something wilder. I collapse forward, shaking, the blood on my lips forgotten as wave after wave crashes through me.
He doesn’t let me come down. In a blur, I’m on my back again, the world spinning as he looms above me, dark and intent, his restraint hanging by a thread. “Don’t hold back,” I plead, breathless, desperate. “Don’t you dare—” That thread snaps. What follows is raw, consuming, driven by hunger, by years of denial, by everything we’ve refused to face until now. He leans down, fangs sinking into flesh beside my head, drinking again, then pulling back just enough to share it. His hand grips my jaw, forcing my mouth open as he lets the blood spill between my lips. It’s intoxicating. Him. Me. Blood and heat. Silas moves again, flipping us effortlessly until his back hits the ground, and I’m straddling him. The shift steals a breath from my lungs, but I don’t slow. I can’t. His hand claims me instantly. The broad heat of his palm glides up my stomach—slow and deliberate—dragging over the curve of my breast before closing around my throat. His grip tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me exactly who I’m dealing with. Power. Control. Hunger.
A grin curls across my lips, fangs bared as I begin to move over him, slow at first, then deeper, harder. My hips roll, drawing him into me again and again, every motion deliberate, every rise and fall chasing something just out of reach. My head tips back, exposing my throat, my body arching as the pressure builds. Beneath me, a low, primal rumble vibrates through his chest—felt everywhere, inside me, around me—his body reacting to mine as my walls tighten, pulse drawing him deeper. We’re a mess of blood and heat. It slicks our skin, stains our hands, marks us as something inhuman.
The corpse of our feed lies discarded beside us; forgotten, irrelevant, nothing more than the echo of the hunger that started this. This is something else entirely. Something darker. Something consuming. The tension coils tighter, snapping thread by blissful thread until it becomes unbearable. Until there’s nothing left but instinct and sensation. My body shudders, convulsing and clamping down around him. A pulsing heat, pure and absolute, floods me. Words don’t exist here, only sensation. Only the overwhelming, electric surge building, brighter, stronger; utterly impossible to contain. When it breaks, it takes everything with it. The world explodes into light and shadow, my body shuddering violently as the intensity consumes me whole. He follows moments later, his control finally shattering completely, the sound he makes raw and unrestrained. And then, stillness. After the storm, there’s only the aftermath. My body softens, heavy, sated in a way I didn’t know was possible. The constant tension, the noise, is gone. For once, I feel… quiet. I collapse against him, my head resting against his neck. His arms wrap around me instantly, holding me close, grounding me. A soft kiss presses into my hair, so at odds with everything that came before it.
“That was…” I start, but the words fail me. There aren’t any that could do it justice.
“Yeah,” Silas murmurs.
And for once, that’s enough.
