Including the warm blood near her face.

She turned her head and sliced her teeth into the bag of warm blood. She ignored the oily taste of the plastic and focused on the salty-sweet liquid sliding down her throat. Within a minute, the worst of her thirst was quenched. She flipped over and pressed up, her muscles coiled and ready as she rested on her hands and knees, wholly aware of the creature who’d been watching her as she woke.

“You.” Her voice sounded strange to her ears. “You did this.”

“I didn’t sire you,” Lucien said, pushing away from the wall.

“You. Did. This.”

Makeda took in his appearance in a second. Exhausted eyes. Firm lips. Body tensed and ready.

He nodded. “I did this.”

Despite her fury, a raw wave of sensual hunger swept her body as she looked at him. Her mind was in chaos, even as her body readied itself and pheromones scented the air. Lucien’s mouth fell open as he drew in a breath. Makeda could see fangs dropping past his lips. See his erection harden beneath the civilized trousers.

“Makeda—”

“Why?”

He paused. To her newly woken senses, his response felt like hours.

“Because I need you.”

She sprang at him, jumping off the exam table where they had placed her. She rose before him, her thigh brushing the steel of his erection while her hand closed around his throat.

Lucien did not blink. Not when she tightened her hand. Not when her fangs cut her lip.

His eyes locked on the bead of blood at her mouth, and Makeda heard his heart beat once.

“Makeda,” he whispered.

Her other hand shot up to grip his hair at the nape. She pulled. Hard. His head didn’t even move. He stood, body like stone, as she stared until he was forced to meet her eyes.

Cold eyes. Cold skin.

Just like hers was now.

Rage and desire flipped like a coin in the air. She grew damp between her legs. Her nails dug into his skin at the neck and she bent her head, her fangs aching as she licked out to taste him. Sweat. Skin. Blood.

Male.

He grabbed her hair and yanked her face up. She crawled up his body, locking her legs around his waist as his other hand gripped her thigh. If she were human, he would have broken her.

A low growl came from Lucien’s throat when he bared his fangs. He took a deep breath and delicately traced the tip of a fang along her lower lip where it bled. His tongue flicked out. Eyes locked with hers, he licked at the blood dripping down her chin.

A sound between a snarl and a moan came from her throat. The hunger filled her mind. It made her ache. She wanted him to bite her. Fill her. Drink her blood as she drank his. Her hand tightened on his throat.

“We can’t,” Lucien said, even as his tongue reached her lip. He didn’t stop. He bit her lower lip with his dull front teeth, then slid his tongue along her fangs. “Makeda, we can’t.”

She yanked his hair harder. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

“But I don’t care.” She released her hand from his neck and sank her teeth into the skin above his carotid.

Lucien roared and pressed her head to his neck for three heartbeats before he wrenched her away, his flesh tearing beneath her teeth. He flipped them around and pushed Makeda against the wall, his hips cradled between her thighs as he thrust against her. She felt the rasp of cloth against her labia. The press of his erection. He froze, her hair gripped in his hand. He pressed his forehead to hers and growled.

“Stop.”

Instinct made her submit. His body was rock hard against hers, and she could feel his dominance battle against her own. She felt his amnis as she never had in life, a warm press of influence against her skin. It made her want to scream. It made her want to purr.

“Stop,” Lucien said again, tugging on her hair. “Take a breath.”

“I don’t need to breathe.”

“Breathe anyway.”

Very deliberately, Makeda slid one leg down until she could touch the floor. She breathed. The rise and fall of her chest let her pause. Think.

She was naked, but she felt no embarrassment or shame. She felt… free. Her body was inhumanly strong. It was responsive. She felt the pull and stretch of her muscles with a new level of awareness.

She said, “Release me.”

Lucien released her thigh but not her hair. She slid the other leg down, her toes teasing the back of his thigh, his knee, before she righted herself. She took another deep breath, but all she smelled was Lucien’s rampant need. One instinct battled the other. His need to control. His need to give in.

She’d done this to him.

Her lip curled up, and she felt the pressure behind her fangs ease. “Let go of my hair.”

“Are you in control?”

“Are you?”

He let go of her and took a step back. She saw him carefully wipe any emotion from his face as he moved away from her. Within seconds, his careful mask was back in place.

“Who did it?” she asked.

“Baojia.”

“Why?”

“I told you: I need you. You called me tonight. Said you made a breakthrough. It may be the only chance we have at curing this disease. Did you think I was going to let you just die?”

So calculating. So cold. Her desires had never mattered. Apparently they weren’t even considered.

She asked, “Why not change me yourself?”

He paused.

“Well?”

“I don’t have any children,” he said. “I don’t want the obligation or the responsibility.”