by P. Jameson
Struggling. Well that explained the Grand Canyon-wide gap she left between them.
His bear chuffed, displeased. Mate is hungry. Feed her.
But the rest of her words sank in, and Thames’s vision streaked crimson.
He rounded on his brother, furious. “You. Fed. Her?”
Images of Nastia’s mouth at Theo’s neck while she sucked blood that would sustain her pummeled his brain until his bear was nearly blind with rage.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Theron stepped back, both hands in the air as if that would somehow calm Thames. Not happening. And he was already getting a beat down for the punch to the temple anyway. Might as well make it good.
“Answer me.”
“From a cup,” Theron rushed out. “She drank my blood from a cup, brother.”
Thames looked to Nastia and she confirmed it. “Doc collected his blood in a cup. He insisted.”
“Trust me,” Theron said. “No lips were going near my skin, okay? Well, I mean… not hers.”
Mirena clapped her hands together briskly, looking like a real life Mary Poppins. “Shall we leave these two alone? Nastia needs her nourishment and Thames… Thames needs something.”
She urged Adira toward the door and Theron followed.
“Wait,” Nastia called. “I wanted to say…” She hesitated, glancing at Thames. He saw emotion in her eyes. Her green eyes. The same eyes he fell in love with. “I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for coming together to help me.” She turned back to the others. “Thank you, Theron, for not killing me when I was deceived. And…” Her gaze zeroed in on Mirena. “And I’m sorry for the pain I caused you all. I wish I could take it back.”
“You did,” Mirena murmured, but Thames didn’t miss his brother’s frown. Somehow he knew, Nastia might have taken back the dark spell that poisoned her sister, but there was no way to erase what had happened from their memory.
“Sister, let it go,” Adira said softly. “The darkness is done with you, but we are still at war. There will be more to forgive. I’m afraid we’ll all do awful things before this is over.”
They left, the door clicking shut behind them, and then Thames and Nastia were alone.
Chapter Fifteen
Nastia breathed deep, trying to calm her nerves. Being undead—transformed—wasn’t all that different than being a Sorcera. Like she’d told Thames, everything still worked the same. She still felt the same.
If you didn’t count the new urge to hunt for living blood. The vein pumping in his neck sang to her, but the idea of hurting him in any way left her feeling ill.
If you didn’t count the absence of magic. She wondered how many times she’d attempt a quickie spell before having no powers became her new normal way of thinking.
But even though she hardly felt different, she had to wonder if Thames still saw her the same way. She wanted to ask if he still felt the connection of their mating bond the way she did. She wanted to know if she still smelled the same to him, if he was as worried about the blood drinking as she was, if he still wanted forever with her when their forever had a different definition.
But what would she do if he answered no to any of those things?
She’d die a little inside. That’s what.
Deciding on the undead spell had been the hardest decision she’d ever made. The darkness had her so twisted up it was impossible to choose right. It was like choosing the handgun or the grenade in a desert full of landmines. Neither could really help her when the enemy was her own footsteps. She only knew that her feelings for Thames would carry her through no matter what, and she had to try, for Mirena, for them all, even if she failed.
She wanted to call this a success. She’d broken her connection to the mystics and healed her sister. But if Thames turned his back on her…
“Mate,” he grated. “I need to touch you or I’m going to go crazy. Now, I’m trying to give you space because you want it, but my bear thought you were gone and if I don’t hold you soon and scent you…” He cut off with a low growl that rumbled his chest.
“I don’t want it,” she said. “The space, I don’t want it.”
She barely got the words out before he scooped her close, his thick arms wrapping around her as he buried his face in the curve of her neck. He inhaled long and slow, and exhaled a satisfied groan.
“Mine.”
And he felt like home. Like her sun. Like her safety and her future. All her worries slipped away as her body molded to his. Her flesh recognized him, chill bumps rising to meet his touch. Her heart recognized him, thumping hard to match the beat of his. And through their bond, she felt their mutual relief, like the weight of the world was nothing more than a feather floating on a breeze.
“I failed you,” he rasped. “But never again, Nastia. Hear me? Never again.”
He rubbed his cheek against hers, reminding her of how his bear needed affection. She tunneled her fingers through his hair in return.
“You didn’t fail me.”
“I did,” he argued. “I should have protected you from the stone. Should have been more vigilant.” He pulled back to stare into her eyes. “I’m going to do better. I’ll never stop trying to do better.”
Nastia’s heart swelled. Didn’t he know how vital he’d been to her in those darkest of moments? But that was just like her mate, to always strive for better. It was one of the reasons she loved him. And if there was any good to come from the Mother Bear and her awful reading, it was this. Without realizing it, she’d made him strong. With her hate, she’d taught him how to love, and love hard.
He was a good man, and an even better mate. And he needed to know it.
“You saved me out there, Thames.”
His brow creased and he looked away.
“You did. When I was at my worst, when I couldn’t see through the darkness to find the truth, you, what we have, it held me steady. It didn’t prevent me from messing up, but it reminded me there was something to fight for. You really are my sun, my light. You’re the magic that remains after the storm.”
He squeezed her tighter, as if he was a fish on a line and her words were reeling him in.
“You are my Anchor.”
He didn’t speak, but she could feel his emotion in their bond. Acceptance and pride. He believed her.
Bringing his hand up her back, he gripped her neck under her hair. His vein throbbed against her mouth where it pressed under his jaw, and the hunger hit her strong. The instinct to drink, to carefully, so carefully as not to hurt him, prick his neck with her fangs and draw his blood against her lips, letting it slide down her throat so she could thrive.
A needful moan eased out, and she was helpless to rein it back in.
“Do it, little witch,” he purred. “Use me to feed. I want to feel those new little fangs.”
Oh, now that only made her ache more. And this time the need spread down to her core, pooling hot and urgent between her legs.
Somehow, she pulled back to find Thames’s eyes. “I don’t know if it will hurt.”
He frowned. “Adira said it would be pleasurable.”
“For me, I believe that’s true. The fangs are very sensitive to touch. But for you… I don’t know.”
An amused smirk curled one side of his mouth as he lifted a hand to palm her cheek. “You’re afraid of hurting me?”
“A little,” she admitted.
“I took claws to the back and barely felt them, but you think I can’t handle your teeth?” he asked skeptically. “I’ll pretend my ego didn’t feel that one.”
She gave him a little shove, leaving her hand on his chest. “I know you’re tough, okay? It’s just… what if it’s horrible for you and we’re stuck doing this everyday for the rest of our lives. What if sustaining me becomes a grudge, or… or…”
He pursed his lips, thinking. “I have an idea.”
“Okay.”
Releasing her, his hands moved to the buttons of her dress, making quick work of the line down the center
of her chest. Peeling back the fabric, he dropped his head to flutter his lips over her skin.
“What are we doing?” she asked, liking his idea already.
“What do you think we’re doing?”
What had he called it before? “Fooling around.”
“Nope,” he murmured, licking his way down her cleavage. “We’re making love. That way you won’t worry about hurting me when you feed. Because, trust me…” He palmed one breast while tugging her dress over her shoulders until it gathered around her waist. “If I’m inside you, I won’t be feeling pain.”
He eased her back, sliding the dress the rest of the way down her legs, repeating the process with her panties. Then he went for his belt, losing it and his jeans in record time. Before he could settle between her legs, Nastia wrapped her hand around his rigid erection, her eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. Soft skin over unyielding steel. She loved this part of him. Every part of him.
His hips jutted forward, anxious for her touch and it made her feel more powerful than any magic ever had.
Pulling away, he laid back on the bed, casual and confident. He might’ve had doubts about his worth, but the man knew his body. He was comfortable with the lickable, loveable, lustable machine that was Thames, the body that housed a brawling bear.
“Climb on, little witch.”
Nastia bit her lip, letting her eyes take him in a second more. Yes, her mate was sexy.
Swinging her leg over his hips, she settled atop him, her wet sex leaving a trail on his skin as she slid over.
His eyes flickered blue to brown letting her know his bear was close.
“You’re very wet, mate.”
“Mm hm. And you’re very hard.”
His hands gripped her hips, but he let her move on her own. So much restraint, he had. She wanted to break it the way she had so many times since they’d met.
“What are we going to do about that?” he asked.
“I think…” Her breath came faster already, just rocking against him. “I think I’ll take you inside me and that will fix everything.”
“This is a good plan. I’m absolutely on board with this plan.”
She was getting close to that wonderful freefall already.
“I think I’ll do it now.”
“Smart girl,” Thames groaned.
Lifting her hips, she guided him in one centimeter at a time, closing her eyes to savor the luscious sensation. When he was buried, she opened to find him staring at her, slack jawed.
“Gorgeous,” he whispered, thrusting upward ever so gently. Like he didn’t even realize he did it.
Nastia grinned. In a few minutes he’d be bucking wildly. Just the way she liked him. She’d be a rider on one of those fake bull machines.
YouTube.
“Drink now,” Thames gritted. “Because when you’re done, I’m going to lose myself in you so hard, we won’t know where I end and you begin.”
She leaned forward kissing him deep before trailing over his sharp jaw and finding the bulging vein. Pat, pat, pat…
“That’s exactly how it should be,” she breathed.
Her tongue darted out to lick once, feeling his heartbeat thump against her taste buds. Thames’s hands tightened around her waist as he continued his slight thrust, sending sensation sprinkling all around her body.
Slowly, Nastia dragged a fang over his skin, the feeling duplicating the one between her legs. She wanted him so bad. His blood and his body, and here they were at her fang-tips.
“Bite, mate,” he demanded. “Let me feed you good.”
She opened her jaw, positioning it around his vein, and gently punctured his skin, sliding in so easily it sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her center. Thames stiffened as her mouth filled with his blood, warm and coppery-sweet.
She was about to retract. He wasn’t okay. He’d stopped pushing inside her.
But then he let out a satisfied groan loud enough to test her ears. “Don’t stop.”
Nastia took her first swallow of her bear’s blood and it was like the smoothest, sweetest wine. Thick and satisfying. She would be full from only a few pulls. Sucking hard at his neck, she took more.
“Fuck,” he hissed, thrusting hard into her while she held his head in place for her draw. “Oh… fuck me, woman, that’s good.”
Nastia drank her fill, relishing the sounds Thames made and the wild way he plunged into her. She’d never seen him this out of control, and it was exhilarating, bringing her so close to the edge she was tip-toes over.
She licked the two puncture wounds she’d made, and pulled back to stare at him. His eyes were fully bear, brown not blue.
“You done?”
Nastia nodded, licking her lips, and loving the feral way he looked at her.
Thames charged up, kissing her hard enough she was sure he’d pricked himself on her fangs. Without warning, he hitched upward, flipping places with her so that she was underneath him. Rising up on his knees, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and used them for leverage as he found his rhythm again.
The push and drag, push and drag, had her squirming for relief. And when he roared long and loud, his release searing her from the inside, it was just what she needed to send her soaring. The climax hit her hard, her body clenching around him tight and bringing another wild sound bursting from his chest. And then she was floating… floating… floating.
Thames slowed, taking forever to come to a stop. As if he didn’t want it to be over. But they had a lifetime to make each other happy. And she didn’t doubt they’d spend every minute striving to do just that.
Thames dropped to the bed in a heap, half on top of her. “Fuck,” he said, and she giggled because he never cursed this much. “That… that was not horrible.”
“No? You sure?”
“Just how often do you need to drink? Asking for a friend.”
“I… I don’t really know. Guess we’ll find out when I get hungry.”
Thames pulled her close, kissing her cheek, and she nestled in, feeling content.
“I’d say we need to try again in about an hour. Just to be on the safe side.”
“Agreed,” she murmured, a happy grin spreading her cheeks. “Just to be safe.”
Chapter Sixteen
It was night time, but she couldn’t wait any longer. Days had passed since her sisters had cast their undead spell, and Nastia was adapting well to her brand of vampirism. Now the search was on to find Anchors for the others before the autumnal equinox when their power would transfer.
The entire clan was going at it, full force.
Magic was in touch with contacts from before he led the clan, hoping to learn any information he could from other shifters. Gash had contacted an old colleague from his Memphis days. Mason was in cahoots with the Elder, Destiny. Doc was exploring options from a medical standpoint. And the rest were taking turns with Nastia’s tomes.
They’d find a fix. She had faith. Her bear had taught her that. And tonight, she was going to give him his gift. The one she’d been working on behind his back with the help of Renner.
“Come on, slowpoke,” she teased, pulling him along toward the chapel.
“Tell me where we’re going and maybe I’ll walk faster.”
“I told you, it’s a surprise.”
They curved around the parking lot and took the short path off the road toward the quaint rough-hewn log building with the tiniest steeple on top. As far as places of worship went, Thames’s chapel was small. Smaller than small. It was a grain of sand to a boulder. But he loved it and that’s all that mattered to her.
She stopped outside the door and turned to face him. “Here we are.”
“My surprise is the chapel?” he asked. “Hate to break it to you, baby, but I already knew this was here.” He grinned and she lifted up to her tiptoes to kiss it.
“Not the chapel, silly. Your surprise is inside the chapel.” She tugged his hand. “Come on.”
Pushing through the doors
, they stepped into the room that held four small pews and a miniature pulpit. It was minimally decorated with a vase of white flowers and a stack of Bibles for guest to borrow if they needed.
Nastia strolled to the front and stood, lifting her eyes to the brand new piece Renner had installed earlier in the day. And then she waited for Thames to notice.
“I love that you’ve brought me here, little witch. But I have to ask… why are we here?”
Her grin grew wider and she shifted, giddy, from foot to foot. “Look. Up there.” She pointed.
Thames followed her, and his face went slack when his eyes landed on the cross that hung over the pulpit. It was a cedar wood frame painted black to represent the darkness they’d battled, and the inside was filled with Nastia’s heart shaped rocks.
“Nastia,” he breathed. “Did you make this?”
“Yes!” she squealed, clapping her hands together. “Well, sort of. Renner helped. I designed it, he built it. Those are all the rocks I collected before I found you. I kept the ones you gave me because I love them too much. It represents the past that we put aside and our hope for the future. Do you like it?”
He glanced at her and back to the cross, his hand rubbing across his lips. He shuffled his feet. Hands on his hips. Back to his mouth.
She felt on odd tugging at their bond that she couldn’t understand.
“Thames?”
He cleared his throat roughly. Once. Twice.
“I love it, Nastia,” he whispered. “It’s perfect.”
Her chest tightened with the kind of happiness that wants to make you cry, and they stood there, together, staring at the beautiful cross. This was Thames’s chapel, his god, his faith. But there were some things that transcended beliefs, and that thing was love.
Finally, he pulled her hand into his, and twisted to face her.
“I have a surprise for you too.”
He dug into his jeans pocket and came out with a half-dollar sized stone. Two humps at the top and a pointy bottom. A perfect heart. Pulling her fingers back to open her hand, he slipped it into her palm.
“Ten.”
