Chapter 27 #2
“Eventually, I accepted that I couldn’t feed from a live source,” he says, forcing his gaze back to mine.
“I switched exclusively to bagged blood. Even then, the instinct remained, so I experimented until I discovered that mixing different types helped. The combination doesn’t correspond to a human source, so it confuses the instinct enough to make the hunger manageable. ”
My brow furrows as another piece falls into place.
All those glasses of mismatched blood. Positive mixed with negative. His insistence that he preferred it that way. It was never a preference– it was another safeguard. Another carefully constructed barrier between himself and the monster he was terrified of becoming again.
And I spent weeks trying to tear it down, never considering there might actually be a method behind the madness.
“And then you bit me,” I whisper.
His expression twists. “Yes. When our blood reacted, I understood the implication immediately, and something in me broke.”
I swallow hard, the side of my throat pulsing with phantom pain.
“I don’t remember making the decision to bite you,” he murmurs. “I remember seeing the reaction, realizing what it meant.” His pupils flare as his gaze drops to my throat again. “Then I remember your blood.”
My pulse pounds harder beneath his stare.
“I couldn’t stop.”
A chill snakes its way up my spine, the tips of my fingers going numb.
I think about those last few moments in the lab. The fear cutting through the venom-induced haze, my fingers uselessly clawing at his arm, and the darkness closing in while his mouth remained sealed to my throat.
Then I woke up here. Alive.
“But you did,” I say quietly.
His eyes snap up to mine, head tilting.
“You said you’ve never been able to stop before. But with me, you did.”
“Not soon enough,” he mutters, the shame in his expression almost painful to look at. “I felt you lose consciousness. Your pulse was slowing, your breathing had gone shallow. Somehow, I pulled away and got you here in time to be stabilized.”
“And then you left.”
His jaw flexes. “I had to.”
“Because Taylor threatened to murder you?” I ask, brow arching.
“That was a contributing factor.”
Despite everything, a tiny laugh tries to escape me.
“But after feeding from you…” He stops, his expression shifting again, something almost like wonder breaking through the guilt. “The hunger was gone.”
I frown. “Gone?”
“For the first time in more than a century, I felt…” He trails off, searching for the word. “Sated.”
I blink at him, still confused.
“Not suppressed. Not temporarily manageable because I’d consumed enough bagged blood. Truly satisfied.” His brows pinch together, like even now he’s struggling to understand the concept. “There was simply nothing left to want.”
His eyes drift toward my throat again, and my pulse skips.
“The hunger is present now,” he admits.
I tense instinctively.
His gaze flicks back to mine. “But it isn’t the same.”
“How?” I rasp.
“I can feel it without being consumed by it.”
He takes a slow step toward me, and though every instinct screams for me to retreat, I stay rooted in place.
“I can smell your blood from here.”
Another step.
“I can hear your pulse.”
My breath catches.
He’s close enough now that I have to tip my chin up to hold his gaze, but he stops with several feet of distance still separating us.
“I want to bite you,” he says, voice dropping lower.
My heart kicks hard against my ribs.
“But I don’t need to.”
The distinction hangs in the air between us like a held breath, Elliott’s eyes still fixed on mine, the hunger in them controlled but unmistakable.
“I believe the bond is responsible.”
The grove around us falls quiet as I stare up at him, trying to decide whether I’m an idiot for desperately wanting to believe every word. Maybe I am. Wouldn’t exactly be breaking new ground. But what the hell do I have to lose at this point?
I take a step toward him. “Then show me.”
He frowns. “What?”
I take another step, reaching up to sweep my hair away from the side of my neck. “Show me.”
His entire body goes rigid, gaze fixing on the exposed skin. “Beatrix.”
“Bex,” I correct. “You said you can control it.”
“I said I believe I can.”
“Then prove it.”
His eyes snap to mine. “No.”
I close the last sliver of distance between us, grabbing onto the front of his hoodie. “You said you want to bite me, so do it,” I grit out. “Show me you can stop.”
Something almost tortured flashes across his face as he stares down at me.
“Bite me, Eli.”
His hands close around my wrists. “I nearly killed you.”
“But you didn’t.” I tighten my grip on his hoodie. “So go ahead, Doc. Test your theory.”
I tilt my head, baring my throat, and something in his expression turns haunted.
“I’m not willing to test my theory with your life,” he grumbles.
“I’m not asking you to drain me.”
“You weren’t asking last time, either.”
The words hit like a slap, knocking some of the bravado out of me.
He’s right.
I remember trying to push him away as everything went dark, a tiny flicker of fear curling through my stomach. But it doesn’t change what I want. If anything, it makes me more certain.
My grip on his hoodie loosens. “Elliott,” I breathe, all the challenge draining from my voice. “I need to know, too.”
His eyes search mine like he’s looking for some hint of hesitation, some reason to refuse.
I don’t give him one.
Instead, I lift my chin, exposing my throat again. “Show me you can control it.”
His nostrils flare.
For several agonizing seconds, nothing happens. He just stands there, staring at the pulse beating beneath my skin while tension winds through every inch of his body.
Then his fangs descend with a soft click, my heart tripping over its valves.
Elliott’s eyes close briefly, like he’s already regretting this. When they open again, something hungry burns behind them, dark and intense but nothing like the vacant, mindless hunger I remember from the lab.
He’s still in there.
Still Eli.
One hand settles carefully at my waist while the other sides into my hair, his fingers threading through the strands before gently tipping my head aside.
“Use your safe word if you have to,” he murmurs.
“I won’t,” I pant, another shiver rolling through me. “I trust you.”
I don’t know why, but I do… which is objectively fucking insane considering he almost killed me three days ago.
Some deeply buried survival instinct should be sounding every alarm I have, compelling me to run away screaming.
Instead, there’s this strange, unwavering certainty burning through my chest. Something deeper than logic, stronger than fear, telling me I’m safe with him. That he won’t hurt me again.
I don’t know if it’s the bond or if I’ve finally lost whatever scraps of self-preservation I have left. Right now, I don’t care.
Elliott lowers his head. His fingers tighten in my hair as his mouth closes over my throat.
Pain flashes as his fangs punch through my skin, and I gasp, my fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.
Then the venom hits.
Pleasure detonates through my veins, hot and dizzying, my knees buckling beneath me. Elliott catches me before I can fall, hauling me firmly against his chest as a moan slips from my lips.
His mouth seals tighter to my neck as he drinks. One pull, then another, my fingers knotting in the front of his hoodie.
This is insane.
Last time we did this, I passed out in his arms because he wouldn’t stop. Now I’m standing barefoot in the woods asking him to do it again. Objectively, it’s one of my worst ideas ever. And yet…
Elliott groans against my throat, the vibration sending another ripple of pleasure through me.
My head spins, the edges of the world beginning to soften as the venom works its way through my system.
For one terrifying second, the sensation is all too familiar– a flicker of fear cuts through the haze.
Then he stops.
Just like that.
Elliott goes perfectly still against me, his fangs withdrawing from my throat. I suck in a shaky breath as his tongue sweeps over the punctures, sealing the wounds before he slowly lifts his head.
For several seconds, neither of us speaks.
He stares down at me, pupils blown wide, breathing heavier than normal. A streak of red shines against his lower lip, and his tongue darts out to catch it.
He stopped.
The hunger is still there in his eyes, but it hasn’t swallowed him whole. He’s in control. Completely.
His gaze searches mine. “Are you satisfied?”
The dam I’d constructed around my emotions bursts.
I throw both arms around his neck, push up onto my toes, and kiss him hard.
Elliott makes a rough sound against my mouth before kissing me back with equal force, his arms closing around me so tightly it steals what little breath I have left. Whatever restraint kept him hiding in the shadows for the last three days is nowhere to be found now.