More Than Blood

by Amanda Vyne

  Kel clenched her fists weakly in his shirt and he let himself take her in, feel the heat of her body against his and just be grateful.

  It was over.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kel slid the needle into the tube and slowly depressed the plunger. She watched the crimson flood of liquid disappear into his vein.

  Then she looked down at the Ferrar House doyen as he slept. For so long this man had played the role of the bad guy for her. Liam Ferrar hadn’t been responsible for what had happened to her. He’d even tried to find her when she disappeared.

  Kel sighed. She might actually have to apologize for punching him in the face.

  Gabe lay back in a chair next to the bed, his head tilted to the side, his hard muscular arms folded across his chest. He thought she was back at Incog letting Dr. Mahoney transfuse her while he kept the death vigil with his mother.

  Stupid man.

  When she looked back at the doyen his eyes were open and gazing directly at her. The room was silent but for the beeping of the machines as he held her stare for a long time.

  “Your son is a good man and he loves this House. He shouldn’t have to choose.”

  Liam Ferrar looked like he wanted to say something; the beeping of the machines quickened. Kel turned a panicked look up at the monitor and she laid her hand over his. “Sshhhh. Don’t worry about the blood. It’s not enough to change you, just help you heal.” Kel glanced back at Gabe, closed her eyes against the deep ache in her chest. It felt like it was caving in on her heart. “Take care of him for me.”

  She left as silently as she had appeared. Liam Ferrar was released from the hospital two days later.

  KEL LOVED THE feel of the sun on her. It was soothing, as was the sound of the girls laughing as they played in the yard. Madison had rebounded with the resilience of a young girl and had developed quite a crush on Gabe. Kel smiled when the girl talked about him but thoughts of him made her ache in a way that was nearly crippling.

  She loved him.

  Loved him enough that she couldn’t bear to see him have to choose between her and his House. The emotion wasn’t as debilitating as she thought it was going to be. It filled her, gave her the strength she needed to leave him.

  Mae was lounging next to her, leaning back with a small smile on her weathered face, silver eyes closed. “Mmm, finally,” she murmured. “I wondered when you’d show up.”

  Kel shot a look at the woman just as awareness curled around her on the breeze. He was here. That heat and spice scent surrounded her, and she closed her eyes.

  “What’re you doing here, Ferrar?” Kel asked softly, her throat constricting around the emotion rising in her at having him near. God, she just wanted to touch him, to feel the heat of his hard body pressed against her again. The need was a living, breathing thing.

  Kel trembled. He was standing over her. She could feel the cool weight of his shadow blocking out the sun. She squeezed her eyes tighter. If she looked at him it would be over.

  “Look at me, baby.” His voice was a low rumble that rolled through her, leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. A tear escaped from under her eyelid.

  His lips touched her cheek, tasting the salty drop with his tongue. When she opened her eyes the sight of him was like being punched in the stomach. He was so beautiful. The dark gold of his hair fanned out around his face; the silky fur of his goatee made his lips look so soft by comparison. But it was his eyes that made the ache in her chest crushing. The deep green intensity of them burned her, making her feel raw and open.

  His fingers trailed tenderly down her cheek as his eyes searched hers. “I never give up what is mine.”

  Kel felt her entire world shift as he repeated those words he’d whispered so fervently to her mere days ago. Hope flared wildly through her, dangerous in its reckless flight. He had so much to lose. She searched his eyes.

  “Are you sure?”

  GABE FELT THE tension ease from his body with his breath and he pressed his forehead to hers weakly. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

  After the battle with Maxim, he had taken Kel straight to Dr. Mahoney, who had sighed in resignation as she began setting up the transfusion. Once he’d safely returned Madison to Haven House he had gone back to his House to sit with his mother at his father’s bedside.

  Liam Ferrar, who had been dying that night, had made a miraculous recovery by morning. The next day he was home, calling a special meeting with the elders. He’d shocked everyone, including Gabe, when he threatened to abdicate his position if the elders did not recognize Gabe’s bond to the crossbreed. It had taken them two days but the elders capitulated and agreed to welcome the crossbreed into the House. His grandfather had been given a temporary exile to be served marshaling the Triumvirate homes, resettling Sanguen crossbreeds into safer homes.

  The parents of those girls had gotten closure when they were able to give their children’s remains a proper burning. Along with the bodies of the four girls they’d found the body of Jimmy Centrone. Maxim must have killed him once he’d brought Kel to him. They’d torn down that cottage the same day the bodies were removed.

  Through it all Kel refused to answer his calls. He thought she might need space. It was his family that had put her through hell and nearly killed her. He wanted to give her the space she needed but in the end he couldn’t bear the separation any longer.

  Now she was there, her small arms wound around his neck, fingers buried in his hair. “Take me home.”

  When they shimmered to the small balcony of her apartment she looked around in confusion.

  “Wherever you are is where I belong. You are my home, baby.”

  Kel shivered, her dark eyes filling with tears. That saucy smile he loved so much lifted her pink lips and that defiant little diamond in her nose winked at him. She was lying back in the long lounge chair with him kneeling over her. Shifting, she parted and lifted her legs to wrap them around his hips. Her fingers sifted through his hair.

  “The next thing you know you’ll be saying you love me, too.”

  Gabe kissed her impertinent little mouth and smiled down at her, seeing himself reflected in her dark liquid eyes. “I love you, Kel Sheridan.”

  She closed her eyes, and he could feel the pulse of her love melt over him. When she opened her eyes there was love and desire in their depths.

  “Prove it.”

  It took a lifetime, but he did.

  Epilogue

  Raife Merrick was dying.

  It had been a long run, longer than most. And he had no regrets.

  Except one.

  The fresh honey and clove scent swirled around him, washing over his body. It was her smell. Katya. His only regret. The only thing he didn’t want to let go. The one thing that he would carry with him out of this life and into the next. He regretted that he couldn’t hold her small, rounded body against him, immerse himself into the heat that thick honey and clove smell promised.

  But he couldn’t. He’d known it from the first, accepted it. Now it was time for her to accept it too.

  Raife clenched his fist around the glass of scotch he’d been nursing, staring sightlessly out into the San Francisco skyline. Waiting. He’d known she would come, had sensed the desperation in her despite her struggle to mask it. She was as drawn to him as he was to her and it was his fault. He should have left long before she reached maturity, should never have allowed her feelings for him to evolve until she was as enmeshed in this burning hell as he was. It was too late for him but it didn’t have to be for her. Life was still a possibility and he wanted—needed—her to live it.

  Raife pushed up to his feet before he could let the agony of what he needed to do stop him. The room spun around him at the speed of the movement, shadows writhing and twisting against the pale gold of the walls, and he gripped the edge of the table to steady himself. He was weak, and it had been hell trying to hide it lately. Yet his awareness, his sense of smell, was just as keen. It was j
ust his fucking body that was giving out.

  Even half dead he could sense the moment she shimmered into his apartment.

  “Katya.”

  Raife turned and folded his arms over his bare chest, eyes tracking over the darkness of his apartment. She stepped out of the shadows, hands folded at her waist, wide luminescent blue eyes watching him. Those eyes had always seen in him things that he could never be, making him want to make promises he could never keep.

  “What are you doing here, Katya?” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded resigned and hollow.

  “I need to talk to you, Raife. Something is happening to me.” She searched his face, looking for something and faltering when she didn’t find it. She wrapped her arms around her waist but continued. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but you aren’t returning my calls.”

  Raife steeled himself and hardened his voice even as he felt something inside him die. “Didn’t it occur to you there’s probably a good reason for that, Katya?”

  “Please, Raife.” Her voice quivered and there was a sheen to her crystalline blue eyes. “Something is wrong with me. I need you to—”

  “Stop,” Raife snapped and she flinched. This show of emotion was costing her more than he would have taken from her. Ever. She hated that she couldn’t control her emotions as others of her kind could. She felt it, in some way, meant she was lacking. It pained him to see her sacrificing that control on something that would never change. “You’re no longer my problem.”

  Katya trembled and took another step forward. Brave little kitten. Fuck, she was going to make this harder than it had to be. “You have to listen to me, Raife.”

  “No I don’t. Go home, Katya. It’s time for me to move on. I’ve wasted enough time here and I need to find my mate.”

  He didn’t, of course. He’d sacrificed that last hope to spend his final years here—with her. He would never regret that time. He’d gotten to watch her grow into the amazing woman that stood before him, perhaps even contributed in same small way. It gave his life significance. But she needed to move on, accept hers. It had been selfish of him to stay here so long, taunting them both with the mirage of hope; with the possibility that there could ever be more.

  He was Drachon and she wasn’t. It was that simple and that complicated.

  Now he was dying and it wasn’t going to pretty. He didn’t want her to see him that way. But, then again, he had no intention of dying in pitiful misery. No this last case Kye had given him would make his last moments worth something. Yet, before he could do this, he had to be sure Katya was safe. And would remain that way. That meant she had to stay away from him.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Raife rubbed at his forehead her pain lashing against his mind. He cut himself from her, afraid he wouldn’t be able to do this if he could feel her pain. Lowering his hand, he forced himself to look her in the eyes. She would never believe him otherwise.

  “What’s not to understand, Katya? I’m done here. I’m bored. Baiting you to lose your pitiful control has gotten sad. What else do you want me to say?”

  Please, don’t make me say anything more. He may not be able to feel her pain anymore but he couldn’t cut himself off from his own.

  A tear dropped from her golden lashes and slid over one smooth cheek. She wiped at it with a jerky motion, a flush burning against the usually porcelain perfection of her skin. She closed her eyes and a cowardly part of him was relieved to be spared from having to look into their depths, to watch what his words were doing to her. Her hand shook when she pushed her hair back from her face. The white blonde strands were falling in disarray around her small face and he frowned.

  Katya was never anything but perfectly groomed, her beautiful hair kept in a tight twist at the back of her head. Was something seriously wrong? Was she in danger? His heart jumped in his chest but he shook himself. The cut had to be complete. He couldn’t pretend to not care and still show concern. Her uncle promised the pure blood she would be married to would take very good care of her. It wasn’t Raife’s job anymore.

  “Just leave, Katya.”

  Please.

  Her pale hands fisted in her hair, and her shoulders rose and fell as she struggled to get herself under control. It physically hurt him to watch, and Raife took a step toward her before he knew what he was doing. He barely stopped himself before he reached her, but managed to force himself back toward his small kitchen. He set his scotch on the counter next to the sink and gripped the edge of the countertop with both hands.

  “I can’t. I need.” Her voice was low and raw, a tone he’d never heard before. Immediately, his cock hardened, and he bit back a groan. His dragon writhed inside him, pushing against his control. It had always been protective of her, inexplicably drawn to her. With his final heat nearing, it was nearly rabid when it came to Katya. An anomaly that made impossible promises.

  Fuck. He needed to get her the hell away from him before he made a mistake that could cost her the life he was desperately trying to give her. Her uncle had been very explicit. Katya needed to remain pure for this arrangement. Her bloodmate would not accept the bond otherwise. Raife had Kye investigate the fucker she was promised to. He was decent enough guy for a blood sucker. More importantly, he could give her what Raife never could.

  “Not my fucking problem.” Raife growled. Every muscle in his body was as hard as the granite countertop he gripped so tightly, but even that was starting to crack under his fists. How long before his control did the same?

  A heated, curling sensation crawled over his scalp, and his balls tightened in anticipation. Instinct had him spinning to catch her when she shimmered across the room, launching herself at him. She was strong, her legs rising to wrap tightly around his hips, and she burrowed her fingers into his hair, clenching his long strands in her fists. The sharp pain from her small hands pulling at his scalp only made his cock pulse, growing impossibly harder. Fuck, he hurt.

  “Katya.” It was a warning. Raife held himself still, body tense against hers, neither resisting nor welcoming her touch. He was frozen, afraid if he so much as moved he would lose all control and lay her out on the island. In the end, it wasn’t him that shattered his control at all, but her. Eyes clenched shut, Katya tightened around him and pulled his head down to hers. The feel of her soft lips against his, her rich scent filling his nose, broke him. The snap of his restraint reverberated through his entire body, making his big frame shudder against her.

  With a growl, Raife had her on the cold granite countertop of the island, devouring her with his lips, his tongue. Fuck, she tasted so good. Her body felt right in his arms—he reached down to palm her ass and pull her tighter against him—soft and yielding where he was hard and aching.

  Vision receding to the heat signatures of a Drachon on the hunt, Raife thrust his tongue into the wet heat of her mouth. Heart hammering in his ears and his dragon’s instinct pulsing hard in his head, he pulled frantically at the long gauzy material of her skirt until his hands reached warm, smooth skin. Fuck. He was dying to be inside her. Pushing her panties aside he thrust two fingers inside her. She was wet and hot and…so fucking tight. Her pussy rippled around his fingers, clenching against the intrusion. Katya made a high keening noise that poured like liquid heat over his skin and then he felt a burn he’d never thought he’d ever feel.

  She’d marked him. It was a shock that stalled time, made him acutely aware of his surroundings. His breath was like fire in his chest, his dragon momentarily lulled by the feeling of the mating marks she’d slashed into his flesh, over his heart. It was like he’d been doused in cold, hard reality. How was this possible? She wasn’t Drachon. It was a cruel taunt, fate making a mockery of him. She couldn’t give him what he needed to save his life but he could still save hers.

  Raife leaned over her, cupped her cheeks in his large hands and pressed his forehead to hers. He couldn’t look into her eyes, couldn’t let this change anything.

  “I love you,
Raife.”

  Her breathless admission felt like the slash of a whip across his back and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears. Sliding his fingers down her neck he found his mark and pressed hard. She went limp against him and he pressed his lips against hers one last time. “I’m so sorry, kitten.”

  “It’s time, Tag.” Raife sent the telepathic thought out and lifted her unconscious body gently in his arms. Thankfully, Tag was there within moments, standing solemnly in front of him. Handing his little kitten off to another man, knowing he would never see her again was the hardest fucking thing he’d ever done. If he’d had to stand there another minute holding her small body close to his, he would never have found the strength to let her go. He still wasn’t sure he had it.

  Tag cradled her against his chest, but his hazel eyes were fixed on Raife’s chest where the marks were clearly visible. “Raife?”

  “Just go.” Raife didn’t move, feeling the burn of the marks, knowing they could never fulfill the promises they represented. A Drachon only received the mating marks from his mate. They were sacred. Except for he and Katya. For them the marks were a mockery, a cruel taunt because Katya couldn’t truly mate him.

  Tag frowned down at her. “Are you sure, man? Maybe…”

  Raife shook his head. “Would you take the risk?”

  Tag knew exactly what Raife was asking. Katya wasn’t Drachon, and if she couldn’t carry his child then he would die, taking her with him. Raife knew Tag had feelings for the doc. If anyone knew the pain of loving a woman that could never be what he needed, it was Tag.

  Tag’s lips thinned and he nodded acceptance, his face harsh in shared understanding. “I’m sorry, man. I’ll take care of it.”

  Numb, Raife turned away, flinching when the door clicked softly shut as Tag left with what was left of his life. It sounded like a gunshot in the darkness of his apartment. Raife picked up his scotch from the counter again, carrying it to the window where he could see the street below the Incog building. Maybe it was masochistic, but he had to watch her tucked safely into her uncle’s limo. A hard wind came in off the Bay and buffeted against the glass as he threw back the contents of his glass. The burn of the scotch in his chest couldn’t come close to matching that of his mating marks.