Bindings I couldn’t see or feel left me. I could move. He lifted his wrist once more, and I latched on to him. My mouth sealed over his wound again. The blood wasn’t flowing as freely as before, but I drank deeply anyway, drawing him into me.

“Careful,” the other…the wolven warned. “You’ve given a lot of blood and haven’t nearly taken enough.”

“I’m fine. You should leave.”

“Not going to happen,” the wolven growled. “She may hurt you.”

The one who fed me let out a rough chuckle. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about her well-being now?”

“I’m concerned about both of you.”

The male sighed. “This could get…intense.”

There was a beat of silence. “It already is.”

Something about what the wolven said and the raggedness in the way the one I fed from spoke should have concerned me. And it did a little. I wasn’t sure why, but I was lost again in the one who held me, in his taste and his essence. I barely felt him move, sitting down and gathering me close in his lap, cuddling me against his chest as he kept his wrist against my mouth. All that mattered was his blood. It was an awakening. A gift sparking through my veins, filling that empty hollowness once more and reaching into the darkness of my mind. The thick film of blackness there cracked, and tiny pieces of me trickled in.

His fingers grazed my cheek, catching the strands of my hair and tucking them back over my shoulder. I tensed, but when he didn’t pull me away, I relaxed. He touched me again, gliding his fingers through my hair in soothing, comforting caresses. I liked that. Touch was…it was special to me. It had once been forbidden, but he…he had shattered that rule from the beginning.

“Poppy,” he whispered. Poppy. That was me. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice ragged. “I’m sorry that you woke in this state and I wasn’t here. I think I…I must’ve passed out. I’m so damn sorry. I know what bloodlust feels like. I know that you can lose yourself in it. But you’ll find yourself again. I don’t doubt that for one second. You’re so strong.” His fingers continued moving along my scalp, and my grip on his arm loosened as he spoke. The taste of his blood was everything, and with each swallow, the void in me lessened, and the shadows in my mind cracked even more.

“Gods, I hope you truly understand how strong you are. I’m constantly in awe of you. I’ve been in awe of you since the night in the Red Pearl.”

The ragged breaths evened out. The racing of my heart and pulse started to slow, and behind my eyes, I saw colors—a blue, cloudless sky and warm sunlight. Black waters that shimmered like pools of obsidian, and sandy dirt warm under my feet. Palms joined, and him whispering: “Unworthy.” These images, these thoughts were his as he spoke softly.