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It was amazing Danny had gone this many hours already without drinking any blood.

Any human blood, that was. Roman suppressed a smirk at the memories of his fierce little mate drinking from his neck while riding him.

He’d later claimed Roman tasted like “the best candy in the world, sprinkled with crack on top or something.”

Roman figured the description was meant to be flattering, if a little disturbing. Was crack-sprinkled candy considered a good thing?

“What’s that face for?” Danny asked, watching Roman from the kitchen counter as he heated blood on the stove. Roman had asked Soren to snag a few blood bags from the hospital, much to Danny’s dismay.

“Those are for patients , Roman,” he’d gasped in outrage.

Truly, his little king was too sweet for this world.

But Roman’s mate came before all others. He needed blood, and Roman would give it to him. He’d convinced Danny with the argument that it was better than Danny overdoing it on his first feeding and accidentally killing someone.

A new vampire wasn’t normally even controlled enough for blood bags—they needed the aggression of a live hunt—but Danny was sitting more or less patiently, waiting for his takeout, as he’d called it, once he’d acquiesced to the idea of a little hospital theft.

Roman hummed to himself as he stirred, not bothering to answer his mate’s earlier question. He didn’t want to bring up the bite, for fear any mention of sexual activities would lead to Danny jumping Roman again before he could get any blood into his boy.

Although, he supposed there were worse things.

They had already kicked Soren and Gabe out of the kitchen.

Gabe because he’d looked visibly ill at the thought of his little brother drinking blood, and Danny didn’t need that kind of judgment right now, and Soren because he’d looked too delighted at the prospect, and Danny likewise didn’t need to feel like a zoo animal.

“Tell me again why we can’t just nuke it?” Danny asked. Roman turned to him in horror, and Danny laughed out loud at whatever expression was on Roman’s face. “Oh my God, Rome. Is the aversion to microwaves a French thing or an ancient thing?”

“It is a matter of taste thing, little heathen.”

Danny snorted at him but kept his mouth otherwise shut.

The candy thermometer—Danny had been shocked to find he even had one in his kitchen—hit ninety-eight degrees, and Roman removed the pan from the stove before pouring the heated blood into a mug with a cartoon picture of a fat orange cat on it.

He placed the hideous mug in front of Danny, who looked at it a little apprehensively but nonetheless pulled it closer, his eyes turning black and fangs popping out with the motion.

“Drink,” Roman urged.

He tried not to give the impression that this was some kind of moment of truth, but in a way it was.

It was one thing for Danny to find pleasure in his newfound strength and enhanced senses and quite another for him to face the reality of drinking human blood for an eternity.

A bloodthirsty new vampire was usually too keyed up to really think about the implications, but Danny was far too cognizant for that blessed ignorance.

Roman watched as his mate winced slightly, then lifted the mug and threw his head back, draining the blood in one go.

Roman blinked. Well, that was one way to do it.

He waited with bated breath for Danny to gag or declare the blood disgusting, but Roman’s mate just looked thoughtful as he licked his lips, placing the mug gently back on the counter.

“Well?” Roman couldn’t help but push for a verdict.

“I like yours better.”

“You what?” That was not the answer Roman had been expecting.

Danny nodded. “Yep. I mean, I can feel this filling me up properly, which I guess yours doesn’t, but your blood is still tastier. Like, this is eggs and toast, but yours is a margarita. Is that a mate thing?”

“Um. I do not know.” Roman could feel his mouth gaping a little in his astonishment, but his demon was gloating, feeling immensely smug that Danny preferred them to the taste of human blood.

“You are not…grossed out though?” he pressed.

“I mean, I don’t love the thought that I’m on a liquid diet for the rest of my life, but you’ll still make me French toast sometimes, right?” Danny looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

Drinking human blood for the first time and his first concern is for the possibility of future French toast.

Roman couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing, so long and so deep that he had tears in his eyes by the end of it. Danny cocked his head, a bemused smile playing across his lips. “Is that a no to the French toast?”

Roman walked around the counter to step between his mate’s legs.

He cupped Danny’s lovely face with his hands, his thumbs stroking gently along the boy’s cheekbones.

“You can have all the French toast you desire, little king. I just…I love you so. I do not know what I ever did to deserve this, but I promise I will cherish it—cherish you —always.”

“Good.” Danny was studying him with eyes that had returned to their lovely deep brown. “Because, like you said, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me. Pretty sure this baby demon in me would hunt you down if you tried to get away.”

Danny said it like it was a threat rather than the sweetest promise Roman had ever heard.

“Just your demon?” he found himself asking, echoing the question Danny had once posed to him.

“Of course not, silly.” Danny giggled lightly, but there was nothing but trust and adoration in his gaze. “I love you too, Roman. More than I ever thought was possible. You’ve made my life something magical. And I don’t just mean the vampire business. I mean you . Everything you are. Magical.”

Roman pressed a kiss to Danny’s lips, at a loss for words to describe the joy he felt at Danny’s declaration. “Should we go tell those two your first feeding was a success?”

Danny crinkled his nose. “First feeding? You make me sound like an infant.”

“You are the one who calls it your ‘baby demon,’ not me. Shall we?”

“Uh-uh.” Danny shook his head, a sly smile on his face.

“No time for that. I think we need to go back upstairs. My demon and I are hungry for…other things…again.” He dipped a hand into Roman’s waistband, indicating the direction his mind was headed.

“Plus, I want to see if my blood still tastes as good to you, now that I’m all vamptastic and everything. ”

Jesus.

Roman’s cock filled at the thought of sinking his teeth into his mate once more. It had been too long since he’d had his fill of that particular nectar.

“Think you can handle that?” Danny teased, squealing when Roman scooped him up from the kitchen chair, gripping the backs of Danny’s thighs and urging his little mate to wrap those legs around his waist.

“I can handle it, little king.”

Roman felt like he could handle anything with his mate by his side.

Life was good and the future full of possibility.