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Master Hughes walked around the bed, squeezing Freddie’s shoulder. His hand was strong. It was a strength Freddie had depended upon over the years.

“Anthony will be awake soon. His transformation is complete. You have much to discuss.”

Freddie nodded. “Thank you, master.”

“I’m no longer your master, Freddie. We can be equals. And friends.” A wide smile appeared on his face. “Call me Oliver.”

Freddie’s mind reeled. He’d served under Master Hughes for decades. Being his friend would be quite the change.

“Thank you…Oliver.” The name sounded like an alien language in Freddie’s mouth. “For everything.”

His coven master, or perhaps now his ex-coven master, patted his back and departed. Freddie sat there, studying Anthony’s face, watching his chest rise and fall. He’d never imagined he’d have a mate, never mind one so beautiful. He would go anywhere, do anything for this man.

Freddie closed his eyes and took a breath, squeezing Anthony’s hand. It was a tempting offer, to have his own coven. The thought of so many depending on him stirred up a deep fear in Freddie’s chest, but maybe that was a good sign. He had a responsibility to those left without a master after the death of Charles Azarian. They were young, and they’d been turned by a sociopath. It was a fate he understood well.

They deserved better.

“You’re thinking so hard…”

Freddie looked down to see Anthony’s sweet smile, his bright eyes gazing up at him.

“You’re awake.” Freddie stroked Anthony’s cheek with the back of his hand. “How do you feel?”

“Good.” Anthony stretches his arms over his head, yawning. “Better than good, I could run a marathon.”

“You could, and beat every human alive.”

“I need to sit up.” Freddie reached out to help, but Anthony was up, scooching his back against the headboard with ease. “It’s as if I was never ill.”

“The transformation is complete.”

Anthony gave Freddie a heated look. “Oh, really?” A pair of fangs dropped from his upper lip, the enamel gleaming.

A deep warmth spread throughout Freddie’s chest. He was relieved. He was turned on. Hell, he was happy. It was an unfamiliar sensation.

Before he could respond, Anthony was on him, kissing and nibbling, letting the tips of his fangs snag on Freddie’s lips. It sent electric shocks down his spine. A single drop of blood leaked from his pierced skin.

Anthony licked it up with his tongue. Freddie watched as Anthony’s pupils flashed red, and a low growl escaped from his throat.

“Holy fuck.” Anthony squeezed his eyes shut in a look of ecstasy. “What is this?”

“I am your sire, and you are my mate. Your blood is my blood, and blood calls to blood. You can drink human blood, but you can also drink from me. Drinking from your mate invigorates the body and soul.”

“You can drink from me?” Anthony shivered, and ran his hand down Freddie’s neck. In an instant, his fingernails stretched out into claws, and he sliced Freddie’s black t-shirt open.

“I can. You drank from me when you were dying, even though you don’t remember it. Now that you are fully turned, when I drink from you, it will complete our mating.”

Freddie grabbed Anthony by the chin with some force. He no longer had to worry about Anthony’s human frailty. He kissed Anthony hard. Anthony ran his claws down Freddie’s side.

“And that was my favorite t-shirt.”

“A plain black tee was your favorite?” Anthony laughed as he slipped a clawed finger into the waistband of Freddie’s pants. “I don’t like you with clothes on.”

Freddie grabbed Anthony by the wrist. Anthony struggled against him, a playful, fiery lust in his eyes.

“Soon, my love. We have something to talk about.”

Anthony relaxed backwards against the bed, resigned. “What the hell else could there be?”