Page 4 of Make Me Bleed (Sanctuary #2)
CHAPTER 3
MATE
H as hunger ever made you do anything crazy?
Like, I don’t know, maybe drink a bear ?
The thirst is worse than I’ve been letting on. I’ve done my best to ignore it, but now that I know that Julian is an option… my brain says no . My fangs say yes, please .
Luckily, my brain is still winning out. I’m not so sure that it will for much longer. I’ve managed to survive as long as I have on the mouthfuls I get from the prey animals I can hunt easily near the edge of Dyea. It’s not filling, though it’s enough to continue on without the bloodlust overwhelming my humanity, turning me from a gentile vampire to a raging rogue, willing to bite anyone or anything just to drink.
Before Alaska, I’ve never drank from an animal. I had no reason to. Even living out in the former ghost town turned hidden sanctuary, where the prey shifters go from fur to skin and one must be careful that the animals they catch aren’t your neighbors, I never thought of demeaning myself so far that I’d exist on animal blood.
And then I sensed someone at our door. They didn’t knock, lingering only a few seconds, and when Bridget paused our television show because she needed to use the restroom, I went outside to peek.
I sensed the echoes of Conall’s alpha wolf hovering near our home. It wasn’t the first time the head of security had been so close, and my initial suspicion that he looked at Bridget and saw his mate only solidified when I found a recently hunted snowshoe hare left as an offering to her on our porch.
I don’t consider myself an expert when it comes to the mating quirks of the many different types of supes. Of course, I know all about vampires. Wolves, too, because I’ve always had a morbid fascination with our sworn enemy. That’s how I knew that the predator shifters have this need to provide for their mates. Feeding them? It’s at the top of the list.
A city girl, through and through, Bridget would never eat a freshly killed rabbit. And since she wouldn’t—and she made it clear that she had no interest in Conall… yet— I didn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t accept the animal in her place.
Waste not, want not, right?
That was the thirst talking. It convinced me that the still warm meat would have enough blood to make it worth it. So I sucked the poor creature dry, promising myself that it was just to hold me over until one of the blood deliveries inevitably made its way to me.
I ate three more that way before Conall tried to give it to Bridget, my poor bestie turned green, and I took the hare while only just managing to keep my head held high as I strode into the kitchen. It was even more shameful, drinking that fourth one while Conall’s low voice filtered across the house from the porch, audibly hurt that the mate he was trying to feed not only passed over his gift, but she had no idea he’d been hunting for her in the first place.
That was the turning point in their courtship. Poor Bridge. She also had no clue she was even in the middle of the mating dance with Conall, but though I knew she’d never eat ‘bunny’, she found another way to let her mate feed her. They went down to the canteen, and I buried the latest husk under the snow while understanding that Conall wouldn’t be bringing his hunts to the cabin any longer.
He wouldn’t—and I still needed to feed. Such began the last couple of weeks where I’ve tested the borders of Dyea, snagging small prey animals on my own to drink while knowing it’s just not enough.
What other choice do I have? The sanctuary has no willing donors other than Bridget, and as the intervention earlier proved, I refuse to test her bond with her possessive wolf so soon after their initial mating. The handful of humans are off-limits, and though I could sneak past the borders, searching for a meal in the the local town of Skagway, Thorn warned me about doing so before I left Clarity. We are a hidden supernatural sanctuary. To draw attention to us because I bit the wrong human would end with Dyea being shut down by the witch covens that build the mystical spell that protects our borders.
There are plenty of animals in the woods, though.
Even more in the wild.
Bigger ones. The sort that I could tap and gorge on without draining them dry.
I’d been too scared to travel that far on my own. As terrified as I am of enclosed spaces and the dark, the idea of getting lost in the wilds of Alaska, unable to find my way back to Dyea… I would have to be desperate to try.
And after Julian’s almost tempting offer, I was more than desperate.
I was determined .
So though I told Julian I was going to look for Bridget, I changed my mind. I acted as though I would, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he crossed the town again, heading toward the side where the individual vampires live with us but apart, hiding their human donors away from the rest of the sanctuary… and as soon as he let himself into the tall, narrow cabin I recognized as his, I turned around, heading for mine.
In the front door, out through the back, and I was dashing into the trees behind my cabin moments later.
It was late afternoon when I ran. In May, in this part of Alaska, the sun doesn’t go down until nearly nine at night. I had plenty of time to find a large beast to feed from, sate my hunger, satisfy my thirst, and get back to Dyea before the darkness crept in. I would be careful to stay near the edge of the border so that the magic would crackle in the air, guiding me home…
And then I saw a moose.
That was the first time that I’ve been so close to one, and the moment I snuck up beside it, I wimped out while retracting my aching fangs. It must not have liked my vampire scent, either, because the towering creature with the deep-brown fur, massive rack of antlers, and incredibly long legs tossed its head when it caught sight of me right before it charged.
So… moose are surprisingly fast and agile. I did remember being warned that they could become aggressive when they feel threatened, and a starving vampiress lurking near its rump must have done the trick. It trumpeted, coming at me, and I yipped before tapping into my innate super speed to escape.
I did. That was the upside. The downside? Not only did I get myself hopelessly lost, but I emerged from one overly thick grouping of trees to stumble upon an open cave mouth to my right leading to a system of boulder-sized rocks dotted along the flat earth, grass popping up all around them though packed dirt guarded the entrance of the pitch-dark cave.
Because of Bridget, I know all about the underground cave system in Dyea. It’s part of the reason she was sent to Alaska in the first place—because fire opal supposedly grows in the underground caves… and it does—and though she invited me to join her down there, my claustrophobia coupled with my nyctophobia meant I had to refuse.
She never mentioned any above ground caves. I’m looking at one now, but that’s not all.
Sprawled out on its belly, snoring so loudly it’s like constant rolling thunder in between breaths, is an oversized bear . A grizzly, if my guess is correct, and since I can’t even tell what kind of bear it is, it’s no surprise I have no clue if the monstrous beast is simply taking a nap or if it is hibernating.
That’s something bears in the wild do, isn’t it? Hibernate? If so, I thought that might be only in the winter, but even in May, I passed more than a few stubborn piles of snow that haven’t quite melted yet. It’s possible the bear could be hibernating.
Or maybe I’m hoping so because then I could risk taking a sip or two without waking the beast up.
And that brings me back to my question:
Has hunger ever made you do anything crazy?
Like, I don’t know, maybe drink a bear ?
Because that’s exactly what I do.
Tiptoeing close to the slumbering bear, I look it over, searching for the best spot for me to sink my fangs in past the fur, past the solid fat, past the muscle. There’s no way to find a vein, but as big as it is, I’m sure it has blood to spare for a vampire in need.
I pin down the bear’s shoulder. Just in case I wake it up, I use my strength to keep it down, then strike like I am a rattlesnake, digging the points into whatever part of its flesh I can reach.
My lashes flutter, my eyes rolling back in my head as I take my first sip.
The bear tastes like spiced honey…
It tastes like… mine .
The taste of the bear short-circuits my brain. I know a wild animal can’t be my beloved, no matter how many times I was told as a fledgling that I would know my fated mate from the taste of his blood alone. For all these years, I’ve waited for that recognition and it never happened.
It can’t be happening now. I’m just so, so thirsty so I drink?—
One second, the bear was sprawled out on the rock, fast asleep. Within the first few pulls of that ambrosia-like blood, something happens. Its form shifts, and I don’t just mean the creature wiggles to move away from my piercing fangs.
I mean, it shifts —and, suddenly, my fingers are digging into hard muscle covered in golden skin, my fangs plunged into a thick neck. The soft edge of his thick, shaggy dark hair—the same color as the bear’s pelt—feathers against my cheek.
The male… because it’s a male … groans as I suck.
The throaty sound hits me a moment after the realization that the bear I’d been feeding from is truly a bear shifter . Tearing my fangs out, leaving two large gaping holes in the side of his neck, I scrabble back. My heels catch in the dirt, snagging on the grass, but I manage to put a good fifteen feet between us as the male rises gracefully from his former sprawl on the rock before turning to face me.
He’s naked. I mean, of course he’s naked. Shifters are in their fur or in their skin until they pull on clothes. The bear wasn’t sleeping in jeans so it makes sense that, as he sluggishly turns, searching for the female who bit him, he would be naked.
But what about the monster erection jutting up from the juncture in between his wide hips?
I get an eyeful of the thick, long cock, feel all of his blood rushing right to my cheeks, then force myself to meet his gaze.
His eyes are the prettiest gold. Closer to the color of rich honey, they peer at me from beneath heavy eyelids. His breath is soft, his chest heaving slightly, and I get the feeling he’s still half asleep.
Is he dreaming?
Am I ?
He extends his hand, gesturing at me. And then, in the deepest, roughest, sexiest voice I’ve ever heard, he says one word that has me freezing in place.
“Mate.”
Mate.
Maaaate.
My lips part. He growls softly.
I squeal, then I do the only thing I can think of.
Without a single look back, I bolt into the trees, speeding back toward the sanctuary.