Page 42 of Sold to the Nalgar (Stolen From Earth #3)

C ecilia’s pulse hammered as Zarokh’s words sank into her skin. Give me your blood.

She stared at him, the smoke-stained sky bleeding red over his massive frame. He looked like a beast pulled taut on the edge of a chain, his muscles trembling, his breathing harsh. His black eyes burned, bottomless pools with veins of crimson running through them.

She knew he wasn’t asking.

He was begging .

Her wrist trembled as she lifted it, her throat dry. “Do it,” she whispered.

Zarokh didn’t hesitate.

He caught her hand, his grip like iron and fire, and brought her wrist to his mouth. His fangs sank into her pulse point with a low, guttural growl.

The pain was sharp, blinding, but it wasn’t pain for long.

A familiar heat flooded her veins, a liquid pulse of lightning and pleasure.

His mouth was hot, hungry , his tongue tracing her skin as he drank with a strange, savage reverence.

Fury and sensuality, war and intimacy tangled together.

She gasped, her knees buckling. His other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her steady as he fed like a storm unleashed.

Her eyes locked on his face. His red gaze blazed as if it could burn through her, wild and unrestrained. His lips, slick with her blood, curved into something feral and beautiful.

God. She was obsessed.

She shouldn’t be. She should recoil, should fear him. But all she could think about was how he felt—how he looked, fierce, savage, beautiful—how it stirred something inside her that was just as dark and feral as him.

And for the first time, a thought coiled through her like a whisper.

She wanted his blood.

The words slipped out before she could stop them. “I want…” Her breath hitched. “Yours.”

Zarokh froze. The wind howled around them, carrying the screams of the city below. Slowly, almost reverently, he tilted his head, baring his throat to her.

It was an offering.

A vow.

“Take,” he said.

She stared, shocked. “What?”

“Take from me,” he murmured, the translator—set in the elegant pendant, still nestled against her chest—making his deep voice even more intimate. “You are mine. So… take. ”

Something in her broke. Or maybe it woke.

She moved before she could second-guess it, her lips brushing the rough, battle-warmed skin of his neck.

Her breath hitched against his pulse. His hands tightened on her waist, not to push her away but to keep her close.

His scent—rich and deeply primal—coiled around her as her teeth grazed his skin.

Then she bit.

The taste was…

Oh. God.

Sweet. Dark. Addictive. Pure bliss. More decadent than the most indulgent food on Earth.

Not coppery like she’d expected but rich and impossible, like heat and night and power.

She moaned against him, her nails digging into his arm as she drank.

Zarokh’s growl vibrated through her chest, low and approving, his grip firm but gentle, as if she were precious and dangerous all at once.

When she finally pulled back, blood warm on her lips, the world looked different. Sharper. Brighter. Her heartbeat slowed, but her body thrummed like a blade under tension. Her vision seemed to slice through the smoke below.

She felt strong.

Too strong.

“What… what is this?” she breathed.

Zarokh’s eyes, burning red, softened just a fraction. “Power,” he said simply. “ Us. ”

She swallowed hard, but her body hummed, thrumming with a battle-lust that wasn’t hers… or maybe it was. Her hands curled into fists. Her legs felt like coiled springs.

This was madness.

She’d never expected this. This lust, this addiction, this desire…

To have it all.

Him.

His world.

Was this lust, love, or something else? A madness borne of another world, something that didn’t exist on Earth or amongst humans. A new way of being.

Her old life was gone, torn to shreds, burned to ashes. By him. It was inevitable; she just hadn’t known it yet.

But now she knew that much. Knew it beyond certainty.

She could never go back to Earth.

She would never be the same.

And now, more than ever, she wanted to leap into the fire.

“Come,” Zarokh said, his voice a dark promise as he wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “We take back what is mine.”

And down toward the burning city they went— together.