Page 68 of When Shadows Dream: Shadow Hounds

“We’ll be off now. Enjoy what remains of your night.”

And then they were alone once more.

Chapter 32

Jezzie had gotten Tana dressed before she’d allowed them to remove the blindfolds, but the dragon in him was already going crazy in his head from the scent of his mate’s blood. Too much blood. He’d held it together only because of his faith in her. Then all of a sudden his sight had been set free and his bonded mate instincts had kicked in completely. His roar filled the sky and shook the birds from the trees for miles around.

The sight of Jezzie’s blood soaked dress and open wound, with a steady flow of blood still trickling over the already slick curve of her breast, had his beast both raging and rampantly protective. What worried him most, though, was the discomfort of his growing cock pressing against the inside of his trousers. It froze him to the spot.

He didn’t want to be a monster. Didn’t want to find pleasure in her pain. He didn’t want to be the same as the monster who still lived in his past and in the darkest recesses inside his head. He wished the bastard could be forever exorcised from his brain.

Soft, firm hands pried his fingers from his hair and pulled them to his sides, loose tawny strands falling to the ground beneath his buckled knees. Huh, when had that happened?

“Ni, mo shíorghrá, look at me!”

Jezzie’s strident voice pierced the white noise muffling in his ears, but the guttural scream from his own mouth was much worse than no sound at all.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” she crooned in his ear, but all he could smell was the sweet scent of her blood, and he didn’t know why. His brain seemed to have been sucked into the beast’s inferno of feelings.

“No, you don’t understand, Jezzie. Rage burns us. We demand your safety. But, what scares me is my reaction to the sight and scent of your blood as it lingers on your perfect breast, the wound so fresh it has yet to heal. You hurt, and yet my cock grows thick and throbs with the need to take you. Yet, even in my self-disgust this desire urges me to action. To lap at your wound and claim you, regardless of your pain. I don’t ever want to be like him,” his voice cracked on the final word as tears slid down his face and onto her hands.

Such soft hands, which held him steady as she kissed first one eyelid, then the other, before placing whispered words against his lips.

“And this, right here, mo shíorghrá, is why you will never be like him. Not even in your worst moments, not even in the darkest of your days.”

She dragged him down to the ground and wrapped him tightly in the warmth of her embrace. Soothed him with the stroke of her fingers through his tawny hair as she whispered words of love and reassurance until he slowly relaxed into her embrace. The occasional vow to eat the decrepit soul of the monster who plagued him thrown in here and there, elicited wry chuckles from him. His Jezzie was going to make Raum beg for death if she ever had the chance, and Nithe would stand beside her when she did.

They stayed that way for who knows how long, laid out on the soil within the circle, though the cold had started to seep into his once too often broken bones. Michael had taken Tana and the supplies back to her room once he’d been assured she was improving, giving them the space they’d needed. He didn’t know what Nithe had been through, not exactly, but he knew Raum. Had heard of his misdeeds, and the guy was far from an idiot. His rage had receded, but self-loathing still lingered like a dark cloud threatening the happiness in his heart.

“Ni?”

“Yeah, Jez?”

“I want you to lick me,” her voice held a breathy quality, one reserved for intimate moments.

“Now?”

“Yeah, now. Not my pussy, though. I want you to lick the blood from my breast.”

“Why would you want that, Jez? After what just happened.” Panic started to creep into his brain.

“I think we both weren’t thinking clearly. Blood holds power, remember?”

“Yeah, that’s kinda OtherRealm 101.”

Where was she going with this?

“What was our bond sealed with, Ni?”

“The marking bite?”

“Which involves?”

Oh, shit!

“Blood! I can heal your wound and your blood will reaffirm the bond and calm the panic and rage in both the dragon and in me! How the fuck could I forget that. You are so fucking clever, a stór.”

He rolled her in his arms until her body was pinned beneath his as he kissed the fuck out of her, leaving them both breathless. He tore his lips from hers with a ragged groan and dipped his head to her breast, only to have her halt his attempt to lick her blood-covered nipple.