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The vampire rolled his eyes. “It would literally be a drop.”

“Of your blood?” I exclaimed, rearing back. “I’ll just torch the placeand escape that way. Easy peasy.”

“We’re being serious, Maxar,” Omaera protested. “It’s just a drop.”

I shook my head. “Not of his blood.” Then I glanced at the bear. “Or his blood.”

“You tickled his nuts,” she argued.

“But I didn’t lick them!”

Omaera growled.

“You seem to be forgetting who is the highest born among us here,” Drak said stoically. “A drop of Omaera’s blood should work.”

My mate pouted at me. “Please, Sparky?”

The idea of drinking blood like a creepy-ass vampire made my gut spin. But the way Omaera pushed out her bottom lip and batted her long lashes at me had me giving a growl of my own and nodding. “Fine. Fucking fine.”

Relief creased her gentle features. “Thank you. I need to know that we can all escape the same way.” She turned to the vampire. “How do we do it?”

“Same way we always do it. Puncture a hole in a vein, then he drinks your blood. He may not have a coagulating enzyme in his saliva to seal the puncture. So I can do that.”

Like it was easy peasy, lemon fucking squeezy, Omaera nodded and held up her wrist toward me for sacrifice. “Go for it, Sparky.”

I gaped at her. “I don’t have fangs. And I’m not going to gnaw on your arm like a beaver.”

Her mouth opened, and a strangled sound came out before she faced the vampire again. “Does hehaveto be the one to open the vein?”

“Of course not. He just needs to be the one to drink the blood.”

She pivoted her outstretched arm toward Drak. “Can you … please?”

This was getting weirder by the fucking second. Surely, she had enough of my cum in her from all the times I filled her up that the Fates and magical mountain wall would accept that in lieu of blood. And if they preferred fresh cum, I was willing to whip up a batch and fill her up right now.

“They need you to havemyblood in you,” Omaera said to me with exasperation. “Not your cum in me.”

Shit.

I still wasn’t used to her reading our thoughts wherever she wanted.

“Please, Drak?” she asked again.

The reluctance in the vampire’s eyes was almost as strong as the hesitation that swirled in my belly. But he gently took her wrist in his hand, dropped his fangs, and carefully pressed one to the inside of her wrist. Almost immediately, a bubble of scarlet formed on her tanned skin. Drak released her, his nostrils flaring, pupils going dark, as she swung her arm toward me.

“Bottom’s up,” she said, bringing it right to my face.

“Can I just go down on you for like an hour and drink down all that sweet honey?” I asked, my lip curling up as the coppery tang of blood hit my nose.

A nudge from behind—Zandren—pushed me close enough that her arm brushed against my chest, leaving a smear of blood on my light gray shirt.

“Just a drop,” Omaera said as more blood welled up on her wrist. “Just enough so you have highborn blood in your veins, and you can get through to safety.”

Damn those big green eyes. They got me every fucking time.

Holding her wrist, I carefully dropped my mouth over the red drop and sucked.

Not that she hadbadtasting blood. It just tasted like blood to me. The same as my own when I bit my tongue or the inside of my cheek. Metallic, maybe a little sweet, but mostly just unappealing. I certainly didn’t understand why vampires went gaga for the stuff.