“I-I can’t…” Jane said, her words even weaker.

“If you don’t drink,” Liam cut in, his voice cold and hard, “then you’ll die. The bleeding is too heavy. Vamps tend to bleed too much anyway. If it can’t stop, then you’ll die under that tree.”

No, she wouldn’t. If he had to force Jane to take his blood, then Alerac would do it. There was no way that he’d lose her.

Her laughter was bitter, broken. Too weak. “I can’t…because I don’t know…h-how!”

His heart slammed into his ribs.

“My f-fangs…they aren’t out. They were…b-before. That was why I…stopped…” Her words were so low that, if it hadn’t been for his enhanced hearing, Alerac might have missed them. “I-I can’t—”

He had his own fangs. Fangs and claws. Alerac used the claws on his right hand to slice across his left wrist. Then, before she could argue with him, he put his wrist to her mouth. “Drink.”

She didn’t.

“Drink or die,” Liam told her, edging ever closer.

Her lips trembled against his wrist, the movement soft like a butterfly’s wings. Her mouth opened. She—

Tasted him.

It had been so long since she’d drank from him. Too f**kin’ long.

Her tongue licked over his skin.

His c**k stretched, ached. Too long.

How many nights had he dreamed of her? How many times had he woken, reaching for her? Always searching, but never finding her.

He had her now.

Her fangs pierced his skin.

He shuddered. A growl rumbled in his throat. Her fangs might not have been out moments before, but they were sure there now. She was drinking from him, taking him into her body.

It was more than just blood.

Life.

He wanted her. Wanted to thrust deep into her even as she drank from him.

Some mistakenly believed that a vampire’s bite was about pain and degradation.

He’d believed that.

Until her.

Until he’d learned of the pleasure that a bite could bring. A release damn close to the one he had from sex. Pleasure that shook his body, that consumed.

“Enough.” Liam’s voice. Worried. Angry.

Because she had taken so much from him.

He wanted to give her more.

No, he wanted Liam gone, he wanted Jane naked, and he wanted to be the one biting.

She doesn’t know what I’ve become. Soon enough, she would.

“Stop her, Alerac,” Liam ordered fiercely. “Stop her.”

He didn’t. Alerac turned his head. Met Liam’s gaze. “Wait for us by the motorcycles.”

Liam didn’t move.

Alerac held his gaze. “Wait for us.”

The werewolf gave a jerky nod, then turned and stalked away.

When he was gone. Alerac looked stared back at Jane. Her lashes swept over her cheeks. Her hands had risen so that her fingers curled around his arm.

She was taking his blood, drinking it so eagerly when she’d been hesitant before.

He f**kin’ wanted her.

Her lashes slowly lifted. There was a faint shine in her eyes, one that hadn’t been there before. The power that was inside her, trying to come out.

Hell, yes.

Her gaze held his. Her tongue slid over his skin and—

Horror widened her eyes. She pushed his hand away from her mouth even as she leapt to her feet.

A very fast move. Her strength was back.

And her wound had closed.

He rose slowly, aware that his jeans were far too damn tight around his cock.

“I’m sorry!” She’d put her hands over her mouth—over those delicate fangs—and the words came out as a mumble.

He shook his head. “You shouldn’t be sorry for what you are.”

He’d once cursed what she was, and he was glad that she didn’t have that memory.

Memory.

Alerac stiffened.

In the heat of the moment, he’d forgotten one of the most important parts of a vampire’s power.

When a vampire drank blood, it wasn’t just about getting a rush of strength. When a vampire drank blood straight from a victim, he or she also tapped into that person’s memories.

Will she see my memories?

Jane didn’t have memories of her own, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted her to see what he’d done with his life. She already feared him enough.

Her hands slowly fell back to her sides. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I-I took too much.”

“It takes more than that to weaken me.” Did she hear the rough edge of desire in his words?

Her gaze drifted over him. Down, down, then her stare jumped right back up to hold his.

His smile was grim. “The bite just made me want you more.”

She backed up a step. Rammed into that oak tree.

“Don’t worry, a rúnsearc, I won’t take you here.”

Another quick step back. “You aren’t taking me anywhere!” Jane fired at him.

Yes, he was. But there was a time and a place for everything. “Our enemies are growing closer. I want you at my home, where I know we have the advantage.”

His wrist seemed to throb where she’d taken his blood. He could almost still feel her mouth on him.

It made him remember the first time that his vampiress’ s fangs had pierced his flesh. She’d been scared then. Scared but aroused.

“You looked the same way then,” the words came from him, unplanned.

Jane stilled.

“You didn’t mean to drink from me then, either, but your fangs came out.” They’d been kissing. He’d had her naked in his arms. For vampires, physical lust and bloodlust were so tangled together. Her fangs had come out. He’d wanted her bite.

And, after she’d bitten him, then he’d wanted everything from her.

“What happened after I bit you?” Her voice was soft. Husky. Temptation in the dark.

He turned away from her. “We f**ked.”

A twig snapped behind him.

“Stop backing away,” he muttered without looking over his shoulder. The woman was always pulling away from him. “We need to get on the bikes and get out of here.”

Her footsteps didn’t follow his. He squared his shoulders. Waited. “Jane…”

Then he heard the whisper of her footstep. One. Then another. She crept toward him.

“Thank you.” Incredibly soft.