Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Which was a distinct possibility.
But though he was draining me as he drank, I wasn’t trying to get away from him, I realized after a moment—actually, I was trying to get closer. And it wasn’t just because of the overwhelming pleasure, though that certainly played a part in my reaction. It was because the feel of Griffin’s fangs in me—the feeling of giving myself to him willingly and with no restraint—felt more right than anything ever had in my entire life.
It was a feeling of connection—a feeling of coming home.
He is mine and I am his, I thought and knew it was true.
But as he continued to drink from me, the feeling began to fade—along with everything else. My fingers and toes felt numb and the rustling sound of the canvas snare around us seemed to fade into the background. Black flowers began to bloom in my field of vision and I felt dizzy and weak.
Blood loss, I thought, though even my thoughts felt fuzzy now. Won’t be…much…longer.
But suddenly Griffin pulled away, his fangs abruptly leaving my throat. His eyes were still glowing brightly and I could tell the thirst was still on him but somehow he had found the will to stop.
“All right,” he whispered, as though talking to someone else—someone I couldn’t see or hear. “All right, I’ve stopped! I won’t bite her again!”
I wanted to ask who he was talking to, but I was too dizzy to form words. And anyway, right after he’d said it, he reached for me again.
I was sure he intended to bite me a second time. I was already baring my throat but instead of sinking his fangs in again, Griffin gripped the edge of the silver duct tape that covered my mouth in his fangs and ripped it loose.
The pain of the tape coming loose seemed to wake me from my stupor and I spat out the bite guard at once, more by instinct than anything else. I still felt woozy and uncertain about what was going on but Griffin was looking at me intently, his eyes glowing silver in the darkness.
“Megan, I can’t do this,” he said hoarsely. “I love you too much—I can’t allow the thirst to kill you. But…” He hesitated. “There is only one way I can think to stop it—to stop all of this and save you. I hope you will forgive me later.”
Forgive you for what? I wanted to ask, but my tongue felt numb and stupid and I couldn’t form the words.
Griffin gave me one last, intense look, and then reached up to press the side of his throat to my mouth.
“Bite me.” His voice was low and harsh. “Bite me and drink my blood, Megan—it’s the only way.”
75
The only way to what? I wanted to ask but now my mouth was muffled against his neck.
“I…can’t do this,” I mumbled, trying to move my mouth away from him. Actually, I didn’t even know why he wanted me to.
“You have to,” he insisted. “You’re in no shape to do magic and this is the only way I can protect you. Go on—bite me.”
I opened my mouth to protest again and found myself tasting the salt of his skin. This close his wintry scent surrounded me completely and to my surprise, I found my body reacting to it—to him.
My teeth weren’t nearly as sharp as his—they were human and blunt and it must have been painful for him when I bit him. But Griffin didn’t even flinch. He only pressed closer to me until I felt his flesh tear and his salty blood rushed into my mouth and over my tongue.
A swallow was all it took to make me feel much better than I had. And it was all Griffin gave me before he pulled away and looked at me again.
“Megan Latimer,” he said, his voice low and formal,
“Blood of my blood
And breath of my breath.
Nothing can part us
Now except death.”
A chill ran through me—a feeling of connection stronger than anything I’d ever felt before. And yet it was still incomplete. Griffin seemed to think so too.
“Say it back to me,” he murmured urgently. “Quickly—it’s the only way.”
I vaguely thought I’d heard the words he had recited somewhere before, but I wasn’t sure where. Someone had told me about them, said they were important—life-changing. But I couldn’t remember more than that—couldn’t think of anything but Griffin’s pale gray eyes urging me to say the incantation back to him.
“Griffin Darkheart,” I said, looking at him,
“Blood of my blood
And breath of my breath.
Nothing can part us
Now except death.”
The feeling of connection intensified like sparks from a fire radiating through my entire body. I felt love and devotion and caring and possessiveness all flowing into me—flowing from Griffin, I realized hazily. And my emotions of love and adoration were flowing into him.