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Lyrica tried to hide her discomfort as she poured herself a travel mug of coffee and carefully balanced a plate of donuts she’d snagged from the kitchen. The new chef had created incredible pastries, and she wanted a chance to talk with him more, but he’d left the kitchen without leaving a note.

Her entire body felt sore and well-used. There wasn’t an inch that Vero hadn’t kissed, bitten, or claimed the night before. Not to mention spanked. She wanted to be angry, but her body felt too deliciously satisfied. Yet it hurt to move even a little.

She had finally given him the words he wanted by agreeing to take safety precautions at all times, and now she felt more vulnerable than ever. Her heart was definitely involved, but he was overbearing and bossy, and she didn’t want to like that. She didn’t want to find security in that. And yet…she had nev er felt safer.

Did she want to be mated as a Kurjan? Did it even matter? Probably not physically, but to Vero, it mattered. Could she take that risk with her heart? Or was it al ready too late?

The door swung open, and there Vero stood, his towering frame filling the doorway. “Where are you going?”

She glanced at Lukas, who looked down at the checkerboard between Jonathan and him. A sheen of sweat covered his brow. “Tattletale,” she muttered un der her breath.

Lukas’s ears turned red, but he didn’t respond.

“I’m going to visit Maeve and take her donuts,” Lyrica said, lifting her chin. “She called in and said that Ralstad is sick. She’s worried, and I want to check on them both.”

Amusement flickered in Vero’s blue eyes. “I’ll take you because I want to check on Ralstad. But ditch the donuts, and nobody eat anything until we figure out why some of the soldiers are getting sick. My guess is that we have a food poison ing situation.”

She hastily slipped the donut tray onto the bar shelf. “Can Kurjans get f ood poisoning?”

“Not often,” Vero said, glancing at Lukas. “How are you guys feeling?”

Lukas shrugged, planting a hand on his stomac h. “Not great.”

Jonathan grimac ed. “Not sure.”

“Go see the doctor and tell him everything you’ve eaten recently. There has to be a common food.” Vero’s gaze narrowed on Lyrica. “How ar e you feeling?”

“Fine.” She patted her hair into place. “But I haven’t eaten anything yet today.” She’d been counting on having a donut at Maeve’s and reluctantly put her mug next to the donuts, which still looked delicious. She shuffled toward him, grabbing her coat off the sofa and shrugging into it. Checking out Lukas’s pale face, she frowned and followed Vero outside into the biting cold. The freshly shoveled walkway crunched under her boots as she carefully made her way to the UTV.

Pleasure swept through her as she settled against the heated seat, letting the warmt h surround her.

Vero climbed in next to her, the UTV rocking under his weight. Once inside, he turned to her, his intense gaze locking on hers. “How are you?”

How was she? That was a loaded question. She hesitated, unsure how to answer. “I’m fine,” sh e said finally.

His lips thinned. “I may not have been mated long, but I know ‘I’m fine’ isn’t a good sign. How sore are you?”

Her head jerked up, and she could almost feel fire flash from her eyes. “Well, my butt is very sore, thank you very much. Y ou bruised me.”

“I spanked you,” he corrected, his voice firm but tinged with amusement. “It’s not supposed to feel good. Well…not too good, anyway.” A wicked grin l ifted his lips.

Heat surged to her face, the blush actually painful. The things she had let him do to her the night before, she could barely believe. Yet it had been worth every second. She crossed her arms, glaring.

“Still.” His gaze softened. “Having you bruise d isn’t ideal.”

His fangs dropped, glinting in the morning light.

She cringed back against the door. “What are you doing?”

He held out his wrist and slashed his fangs into it. Blood welled immediately. “Here. Take blood. We’re mated . It won’t hurt you—i t’ll help you.”

“I’m not drinking your blood ,” she snapped.

He sighed, clearly losing patience. Before she could react, he reached out, cradled the back of her head, and pressed his wrist ag ainst her lips.

She tried to fight him, but the liquid slid over her tongue, sparking like wildfire. Her eyes watered, but to her surprise, the taste wasn’t bad. In fact, it was…delicious. Spicy and dark, with a hint of sweet ness she couldn’t quite place. Against her will, she swallowed several mouthfuls, warmth spreading from her belly to the re st of her body.

He finally pulled his wrist away. “We’re mated, so my blood should help you—won’t burn y ou any longer.”

She licked her lips, shaking her head slightly. “It’s like I just tasted something very spicy. But I li ke spicy food.”

The warmth continued to spread through her limbs, and she suddenly felt lighter. Stronger. Healed. She rolled her shoulders, shifting her weight on the seat experimentally. “That’s…amazing, ” she breathed.

The soreness had vanished entirely. When was the last time she hadn’t experienced any pain? She looked at him, wide-eyed. “You feel like this all the time?”

He chuckled. “I’m usually getting punched in the face, but yeah, we feel like that when we’re not in battle.”

“Wow.” She leaned back, still marveling at the sensation. “Hey, as I become more immortal…how does that work? Once my chromosomal pairs combine, I mean…will I f eel like this?”

He shrugged. “I have no i dea. Probably.”

“Wow,” she said again. This might be worth the occasional spanking. She pulled a wrapped candy out of her pocket. “I’ve been eating these all week, and they’re wrapped. No poison.” She unwrapped it and popped the chocolate morsel into her mouth. The instant the treat touched her tongue, her eyes widened. “Even this tastes better. Does food taste better to you?”

He put the UTV in drive, frowning slightly. “I don’t know. I don’t have anything to compare it to. But food tastes good, usually.”

“You don’t understand,” she said, savoring the deliciousness. “It’s like I can taste every molecule of this chocolate. The cocoa beans that created it. The sun that nourished the plants. The water that hydr ated the soil.”

He cast her a quick glance, his brow furrowing as two soldiers stumbled past outside. “I just usually ta ste chocolate.”

“This is amazing.” She swallowed the candy and even her stomach warmed. No wonder Maeve seemed so content. The world tasted incredible. She paused mid-thought, watching the soldiers. “Are those s oldiers drunk?”

“No. Looks like they’re sick. We need to figure out what everyone has eaten. I haven’t had anything yet today, either.” He turned his attention back to her, speeding up and driving out of the main hub of the territory. Trees surrounded them. “Are you sure you feel healthy?”

“I just told you. Incredible. Nothing hurts.”

His gaze raked her, head to toe. “Good. Tell me if that changes.”

Bossy.

A flash of green light seared the air, and Lyrica turned just as a laser tore through the UTV’s front window, striking Vero in the face. His head snapped back, blood spurted across the broken glass, and the vehicle screeched to a halt, the sudden stop throwing her against the dash. She gasped, pain ricocheting through her ribs as her door was wrenched open. Rough hands grabbed her, dragging her into the cold.

Her breath hitched as she twisted, trying to break free. “Vero!” she screamed, the word raw and desperate. He wasn’t moving. Fear coiled around her throat, threatenin g to choke her.

Coron, a soldier she recognized from camp, gripped her arm hard enough that tears sprang to her eyes. His face, once familiar, twisted into something cru el and foreign.

“What are you doing?” She attempted to wrench her arm free, but his grip tight ened painfully.

Another Kurjan soldier emerged from the tree line, his boots crunching through the snow. What was his name? Saren. That’s right. “Silence her,” he snapped, his tone sharp and irritated. “She’s draw ing attention.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Coron grunted, pulling her closer. His grip bit into her skin, sending pain lanc ing up her arm.

“Vero!” she screamed again, desperation breaking th rough her fear.

His eyes opened suddenly. A guttural sound tore from his chest, deep and feral. He jolted upright in the UTV, a primal roar ripping from his throat. Her blood froze. The sound was inhuman, otherworldly—raw fur y made audible.

He vaulted out of the vehicle, charging straight toward Saren. The impact was brutal. The male’s body slammed against a tree, bark cracking beneath the force. The sickening thud of skull against wood made her stomach churn, the sound reminding her of a watermelon smashing o nto the ground.

Before the male could react, Vero’s fangs sank into his neck with swift precision. In one brutal motion, he jerked his head, tearing out half of the Kurjan’s throat. Blood sprayed in vivid arcs against the snow as Vero punched through Saren’s throat to the bloody tree. Saren’s head rolled off his shoulders before his body fell.

Lyrica froze, the air rushing from her lungs. She’d never seen violence so unrestrained, so absolute. Vero turned, blood dripping from the fresh bullet wound in his cheek. His eyes, darker than she’d ever seen, glinted with a rin g of pale blue.

“Let her go,” he demanded, his voice low and cold, a pr edator’s growl.

Coron yanked her closer. “Not a chance, trait—”

She acted on instinct, letting her knees buckle and her body go slack into dead weight. Her sudden drop startled him enough to loosen his grip, and she hit the icy ground with a jarring thud. In the same instant, V ero was on him.

They collided in a flurry of movement, fists flying, grunts of effort punctuating the chaos. The fight was vicious, raw. Snow scattered as they rolled, each seeking the upper hand. Coron managed to land a punch directly to Vero’s injured cheek. Blood sprayed, stain ing the ground.

The sight jolted Lyrica into action. Scrambling on hands and knees, she searched for a weapon. Her eyes landed on the glint of a gun half buried in the snow near the first soldier’s body. She reached for it, but her boots skidded out from under her. She fell, her palms scrapi ng against ice.

A roar cut through the air, and she looked up in time to see Vero drive a knife into Coron’s throat. The soldier’s eyes went wide with shock and his hands clawed at the blade, but Vero didn’t stop. He twisted the knife, his expression unrelenting. Then he clapped both hands against Coron’s temples, and the Kurjan’s eyes rolled back in his head before he droppe d, unconscious.

The fight ended abruptly. Silence fell, broken only by the ragged sound of her breathing. Lyrica stared as Vero stood, his chest heaving. He yanked Coron’s body up by the jacket.

“Get in the UTV,” Vero ordered, turning so his gaze locked on hers.

Her body obeyed before her mind could catch up. She scrambled into the passenger seat, gripping the edge of the console to ground herself to reality. Moments later, Vero tossed Coron’s limp body into the bac k. “Stay here.”

She gulped and stared back at the unconscious Kurjan with the blade still embedded in his throat. Her stomach lurched, but she turned to see Vero tearing the jacket and shirt off the headless body outside. His shoulders straightened, and he turned, walking around to take the driver’s seat.

“His torso?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Yeah. The brand of the circle with the three slashes was over his heart.” He started the engine. “I’ll send soldiers out to check on Maev e and Ralstad.”

“Are you all right?” she managed, her voice trembling. She turned to him, her gaze falling on the wound mar ring his cheek.

He kept his gaze on the snowy trail ahead. “I’m fine,” he said curtly.

“You’re bleeding,” she pressed, her words uns teady. “Badly.”

“I’ll manage.” His tone softened, just enough to make her chest ache.

She hesitated, then held out her wrist. “Would my blood help?”

His eyes flicked to hers, something unreadable passing through his expression. Slowly, he nodded. “Thank you,” he said, t he words quiet.

Her pulse quickened as he took her wrist in one hand, his grip firm but careful. His lips brushed against her skin, and then his fangs pierced her. The sting was brief, a sharpness that gave way to warmth. She gasped as he drew from her, the pull of her blood intimate. Her heart thudded in her chest, each beat echoi ng in her ears.

When he pulled back, he licked the wound closed, his eyes meeting hers. “Thank you,” he said again, hi s voice steady.

“Why did they want me?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“To make a point,” he replied, his jaw tightening. “I knew you were in danger. I shouldn’t have let you le ave the lodge.”

The weight of his words pressed against her, heavy and unyielding. She looked down at her hands, her fingers trembling. “To make a point?” Why would anybody take her t o make a point?

“They know you’re mine,” he said, his voice firm. “If they kill you, they kill me.”

The raw honesty in his tone left her breathless. She leaned back in her seat, her mind racing. Despite all his strength, his power, he wasn’t invincible. If he had a weakne ss, it was her.