Chapter 23 #3
Gabriel got between the crevices of Nicholas’s cuticles, watching with fascination as his jagged nails grew to full length again. He observed his chest rise and fall as he ran the bath sponge over him, his muscles reshaping and strengthening right before his eyes.
He absorbed it all, knowing these were possibly his final days of holding Nicholas like this, free of his anger and resentment. He cared for him with reverence before ever thinking about himself.
The water ran red by the time Gabriel was through.
He dried them off before slipping under the covers with Nicholas in the darkened room.
The stars gazed down at them through the arched window, the moonlight broadcasting the beautiful bow of Nicholas’s lips.
Gabriel felt undeserving of him, felt like spoiled fruit at the foot of a vigorous tree.
Giving in to temptation, he lifted Nicholas’s top lip away from his teeth, his eyes widening at the slow descent of his fangs. His eyes flicked up to find Nicholas watching him, deep blue embers burning behind his vacant brown gaze.
“Nicholas?” He got a hiss in return, right before Nicholas launched himself at him.
Day 7
Only three trunks of blood remained, and Gabriel didn’t know how much longer the transition would last. It seemed the severity of Nicholas’s injuries extended the process, and it likely wouldn’t end until he was fully recovered.
He woke up to feed more often now, and each time his hunger seemed to sharpen, not wane.
His need made him impatient, vicious, and as the days passed, Gabriel found it more challenging to keep up with both their blood needs.
He’d taken to keeping a trunk right near the bed, drinking as Nicholas dug into him savagely.
He whimpered above Gabriel now, blackened claws scraping against Gabriel’s jaw as he roughly held his head aside. Gabriel had attempted to give him his wrist, but he’d batted it away with a sneer before striking his jugular.
The scent of Nicholas’s arousal cloaked the air, and his rumbling whine intensified. Gabriel had expected his lust to come on much sooner, but it seemed the delay only strengthened it now.
He stroked a hand up and down Nicholas’s tensed spine.
“It’s okay, Habibi,” he whispered, his own body responding to Nicholas’s needs. “Take whatever you need from me.”
Nicholas’s hole was already slick, his body releasing its natural secretion in preparation for their joining. Gabriel lined the damp tip of his cock up with his opening.
Sharp talons bit into Gabriel’s shoulders, breaking skin as Nicholas bared his teeth. Blood dripped from their pointed ends.
He sank onto Gabriel’s cock, his massas dimae markings appearing along his skin for the first time, pulsing blue.
Every massas dimae carried a light inside of them, reflected off their markings—or what his kind called woshoom.
Tattoos.
They were born with the tribal markings, but what they didn’t know—because they weren’t allowed to live long enough to find out—was that their light was indicative of their individual gift. In Hamza and Rayyaan’s case, their dominant one.
Gabriel wondered what Nicholas’s gift would be, once he’d lived long enough for it to awaken. And would he have several? Would he bear the magic of his saahir side?
Suddenly, Nicholas’s skin chilled, and icicles formed along every fixture in the room.
Both awe and pride soared through Gabriel as he realized that his gift complemented Nicholas’s, and that the arrival of it must mean it had been determined by the age of Zayn’s essence.
Gabriel unleashed himself, his fire rising to the surface. Soon, the walls and windows sweltered, and the frost melted along Nicholas’s skin.
Gold and sapphire clashed in the dark as Nicholas rode him feverishly.
Nothing was enough for Nicholas. He fed and fucked with equal intensity over the course of the next few days, with no sign of the cold vacancy ever leaving his stare—no matter how warm Gabriel kept him.
Gabriel gave himself over to him, allowed him to take whatever he needed to survive, as he always would.
On day ten, he woke to the sensation of hurtling through the air, the far wall splintering as his back smashed into it. He landed in a crouch, head snapping up to find Nicholas kneeling on the bed. Recognition set his gaze afire.
His woolen hair was a luminous riot of curls, and his skin so porcelain smooth it appeared animated in its perfection. He was ethereal, otherworldly, breathtakingly fierce, and all things in between.
Gabriel had never felt so off balance, so undeserving of looking upon something so magnificent in all his life.
Nicholas peered down at his naked body, betrayal and devastation competing with the anger in his expression.
“I’m sorry,” Gabriel breathed, the emptiness of his apology felt deep in his bones.
He would never forget the depth of contempt behind Nicholas’s gaze for as long as he lived. The weight of it sent him to both knees in supplication.
Nicholas glared down at him, his eyes full of venom.
“What have you done to me?”