Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DECLAN/ DONOVAN
DECLAN
Later that night, we returned to the cabin.
The warmth of the feast was gone now, replaced with the quiet crackling of the fire and the distant, whispering sounds of the forest outside.
Donovan was sitting on the edge of the bed, unlacing his boots, the faint rhythm of his movements calming, yet not enough to quell the storm stirring inside me.
I stood by the window, staring out into the dark, my fists clenched by my sides. The hunger was back.
It had been muted during the battle, dulled by the rush of adrenaline, the heat of the fight.
The feast had offered a temporary distraction. Its warmth, the steady flow of conversation, all of it masking the gnawing need that was now clawing its way back up.
It wasn’t just the bloodlust. It was everything.
The constant battle inside me, the push and pull of wanting to remain in control, to hold back, and yet, the relentless desire to just… give in.
To stop pretending I had a grip on everything, to stop pretending I wasn’t already lost.
My fingers curled into fists, nails digging into the skin of my palm as I fought it back. I wasn’t an animal, but tonight, it felt like I was losing that battle.
I exhaled sharply, stepping away from the window. I was about to move across the room, to find some way to calm myself, when I felt him.
Donovan’s presence was a quiet weight, a constant force that was never far behind me, and tonight, I felt it deeper than ever before.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to.
I could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady, like a drum in the silence.
Could feel the warmth radiating off him, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled deeply, as if preparing for something, as if he already knew what was coming.
Then, in that same low, intimate voice that always seemed to get under my skin, he spoke. “Take what you need.”
My body stiffened, tension winding through me like a taut wire. I turned slowly, shaking my head, as though denying it would somehow make the pull easier to resist.
“Donovan,” I began.
“We had this conversation before. I want this,” he interrupted, his voice softer now, but there was an undeniable edge to it. “I want you.”
The words hit me like a thunderclap, sharp and electrifying.
His eyes were fixed on me, dark with something more than just desire.
It was something deeper, a rawness I hadn’t seen from him before. Something I hadn’t allowed myself to acknowledge until now.
I decided that tonight, I wanted to give in.
I didn’t speak. Instead, I crossed the room in two strides, grabbing him by the back of the neck, my fingers curling into his soft gold hair.
My mouth crashed down on his, hot, desperate, claiming. Donovan melted into the kiss, his body leaning into mine, his hands coming to rest on my chest.
And in that moment, something shifted. Something inside me snapped into place.
This, us, was inevitable. It always had been. We were two halves of something far darker and deeper than either of us had been willing to admit.
I felt Donovan shiver against me, the sharp intake of his breath as I pushed him backward, guiding him toward the bed.
His lips parted under mine, his body responding with a kind of urgency that matched my own.
When I dragged my lips down the curve of his neck, over his pulse, I could feel it, his blood, hot and thick, thrumming beneath the skin.
He wasn’t afraid. Not even a little.
He still trusted me despite seeing the way I fought earlier. And that only made everything more dangerous.
When he whispered my name, I lost all sense of control. My fangs, sharp and eager, elongated with a hunger I couldn’t fight any longer.
There was nothing left to do but sink into him. To claim him.
I pressed my lips to the sensitive skin of his throat, and without a second thought, I buried my fangs into his flesh.
The rich, intoxicating taste of him flooded my senses, and I groaned against his skin, my grip tightening as I marked him, as I took what had always been mine.
He gasped, his hands clutching at my shoulders as I drank, as the bond between us deepened, cemented in a way I couldn’t explain. I wasn’t just feeding.
I was connecting with him. Shifters called it the mate mark. Vampires called it blood marking. The world around us disappeared.
There was only Donovan. Only the heat of his skin, the steady beat of his heart, the way his blood flowed beneath my tongue, as if he were the only thing that could keep me alive.
There was nothing else to do but give in.
DONOVAN
I hadn’t expected to find this much peace. Not after everything.
It had been nearly a month since we’d fought off the rabid vampires, since we’d settled into the little cabin just on the outskirts of the sparrow shifter village.
Somehow, I’d convinced Declan to stay longer, to let the dust settle before we made any decisions about where to go next. And to my surprise, he agreed.
I wanted to learn more about the shifters, about their way of life. We visited the village often, helping with small tasks, patrolling for them.
And Declan, he stayed.
He watched me with that careful, unreadable gaze as I laughed with the shifters, as I trained some of them to fight, as I fit into something that felt like home.
He didn’t say much, but I could tell. He saw it.
More than that, our bond had deepened in a way I never thought possible. He no longer resisted when I offered him my blood.
He drank from me daily, and though he was still careful, still controlled, I could feel the shift in him. He wasn’t fighting himself anymore.
That night, I wanted to show him something. I convinced him to go on a nighttime hike with me, just the two of us, beneath the stars.
He grumbled about it, of course, but he still followed, rolling his eyes as I led him along a narrow path winding up the mountain.
By the time we reached the clearing, I was out of breath, grinning as I turned to him. “Worth it?”
Declan exhaled, his gaze sweeping over the view, the valley below, the dark stretch of trees, the moon hanging bright above us. “I guess.”
I laughed, shaking my head as I lowered my pack to the ground. “You’re impossible.”
He huffed, but then, to my surprise, he pulled out a rolled-up mat and spread it out on the grass. I froze, watching him smooth it down, then raise a brow at me.
“Well?” he said. “You dragged me up here for a picnic, didn’t you?”
Something warm settled in my chest. He never did things like this, never made small gestures, never tried to meet me halfway. It meant something.
I sat down beside him, unpacking the sandwiches I’d made earlier, while he stretched out on his side, propped up on his elbow, watching me. I knew that look.
“You want some?” I asked, holding out a sandwich.
His mouth curled at the corner. “Not my type of meal.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
He didn’t deny it.
The night air was cool, but Declan radiated warmth beside me. The past few weeks had settled something between us and had built something unshakable in its place. I didn’t want to lose that.
When I was finished eating, I turned to him, lowering my voice. “You can have your kind of meal now.”
His eyes darkened, but he didn’t argue. He reached for me, guiding me onto my back, and the world tilted as his weight settled half over me.
Declan didn’t hesitate anymore. Didn’t fight the need that burned in him.
His lips brushed over my pulse, slow, teasing. I shivered, tilting my head to give him better access.
“Donovan,” he murmured.
It wasn’t a warning. It was reverence. His fangs scraped over my skin. I gasped and then everything shattered. A rustling in the trees. A snap of a branch. Declan moved.
One second, he was beside me. The next, he was crouched low, his body positioned between me and the source of the sound. I shot up, heart hammering, and then I saw Kit.
My breath caught. He stood at the edge of the clearing, gun raised, eyes locked onto Declan with a single, unyielding emotion. Hate.
I barely had time to process it before Kit barked, “Get away from him, Donovan!”
I shot to my feet, hands raised. “Kit, wait!”
His finger tensed on the trigger. “He’s a vampire.”
Declan didn’t move, but I felt the tension radiating from him. He was sizing Kit up, calculating.
“Put the gun down,” I said carefully.
Kit’s eyes snapped to mine, wild with disbelief.
“Are you insane? You went missing for a month, and now you’re lying in the grass with a bloodsucker’s fangs in your throat?” Kit demanded.
I clenched my jaw. “I wasn’t missing.”
His hands trembled, but he held his ground. “What the hell happened to you?”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. I knew Kit. Knew his stubborn streak, knew his unwavering loyalty to the Guild.
Knew that right now, he thought he was saving me, but Kit didn’t understand.
“He’s not a threat,” I said, my voice steady.
Kit scoffed. “He’s a vampire, Donovan. That’s all he is.”
Declan exhaled sharply. “I’m right here, you know.”
Kit’s grip tightened on the gun. “You don’t get to speak, traitor.”
Declan went still, and I stepped forward.
Kit’s eyes widened. “Stay back.”
I didn’t. “If you shoot him, you’re going to have to shoot me too.”
His mouth opened. Closed. Disbelief flickered across his face, followed by something like pain. “Donovan, ” Kit began.
“I mean it.”
Silence. The wind stirred between us, rustling the trees, the grass. Kit’s grip on the gun was still tight, his knuckles white in the moonlight.
He hadn’t lowered it all the way, just enough to keep me from doing something stupid.
But I could see it in his eyes, the barely restrained fury, the betrayal cutting deeper than any bullet ever could. He thought I was lost.
"Kit," I started carefully, keeping my hands up. "Just listen to me."
"Listen to what, Donovan?" His voice was sharp, trembling with frustration. "You disappeared. No word, no trace. And now I find you feeding a vampire your blood like you’re his personal donor?"
Declan tensed beside me, a muscle in his jaw twitching. He hadn’t moved much since Kit had arrived, but I could feel the cold, sharp edge of his patience thinning.
He wasn’t used to standing down, but he was doing it. For me.
I took a step closer to Kit, slow, deliberate. "It’s not like that."
Kit let out a humorless laugh. "Oh? Then what is it like?"
His eyes flicked to Declan, his lip curling.
"Any self-respecting hunter of the Guild would’ve ended themselves the moment they were turned." Kit’s voice was razor-sharp, his disgust palpable.
His grip on his weapon tightened, knuckles white. His next words came out in a low, venomous hiss. "And now, he’s got his claws in you, doesn’t he?"
I shook my head, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Kit, calm down and listen to me.”
But Kit wasn’t listening. His jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with sharp, uneven breaths. I could see the war raging in his eyes. Anger, betrayal, fear.
"I get it," I continued, keeping my hands up in a gesture of peace. "I do. I get why you’re pissed, why you think I’ve lost it. But I left because I had to. The Guild doesn’t care about right or wrong. It’s just kill, kill, kill.”
I swallowed hard. “Declan’s important to me, and when he called me for help, I couldn’t just end him.”
His breath hitched. He stared at me like he didn’t recognize me anymore. Kit’s expression darkened. "Donovan.”
"Kit," I said, softer now. “I chose this. I chose him.” I took another step toward him. "He’s not a monster, Kit."
Kit snapped.
"Are you insane?" His voice cracked with the force of it. "You think he’s different? You think he cares about you?"
Kit turned his glare on Declan. "How long until you get bored of playing house, leech? How long until you drain him dry?"
Declan finally moved.
It wasn’t much, just a slow, measured shift, but it was enough to send Kit’s instincts into overdrive.
The gun was back up in an instant, the barrel aimed directly at Declan’s heart.
"Don’t," I said sharply.
Declan stayed silent, his eyes unreadable, but I could feel the tension thrumming through him like a wire stretched too tight.
Kit’s breathing was ragged. "I should put him down right now."
I stepped in front of Declan.
Kit’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Move."
I didn’t.
"You really think I’d let you do that?" My voice was low, steady. "You think I’d just stand here and watch you kill him?"
Kit shook his head, anger and something close to heartbreak warring on his face.
"Then tell me what is going on with you. Because this? This isn’t the Donovan I know,” Kit demanded.
I swallowed hard. "This is who I’ve always been. I’ve always been in love with Delcan.”
Kit’s hands trembled. "The Guild will never let you walk away from this."
"I know."
His jaw tightened. "Then you know I can’t either."
A cold weight settled in my stomach.
He wasn’t backing down.
I could see it in his stance, the way his fingers flexed around the trigger. If I didn’t stop this now, there would be no coming back.