Page 52 of Tears of Revenge

She released him, sealing the bites with soft licks from her tongue. “I’m sorry.”

“Do—don’t apologise,” he said, voice weak.

“Lysander, are you okay?”

He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. He was pale, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“You’re okay, right?”

His lips twitched into a grin, but he didn’t open his eyes. “I’m in fucking heaven.”

“Please don’t pass out.”

“Don’t worry, little bloodsucker, just a few hours of sleep and I’ll be fine.”

“Marcus? Varos!” she called, not believing a word out of his mouth.

They appeared next to her and only then did she realise she was still impaled on him, cum trickling down and pooling under her thighs.

“He’s fine,” Varos assured her.

“His body just needs time to regenerate the blood you drank. As I said, he’s a big guy, just needs a little time to heal.”

Her eyes flickered between the two men. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Varos reached out, brushing her cheekbone. “You didn’t hurt him.”

She looked back down at Lysander, who was now asleep. “I didn’t know I was drinking that much.”

“You’ll see,” Marcus said. “He’ll be awake soon—and hopefully in a better mood.”

“How about you get cleaned up?” Varos suggested. “Then you can watch over him yourself as long as you like.”

She nodded, strategically pulling a blanket with her as she climbed off Lysander and covered him.

Varos sat down in Lysander’s reading chair. “I’ll watch over him until you come back, okay?”

“Thank you.”

She collected her leggings and underwear before disappearing into her room, and giving herself a quick wash in the sink. A few moments later she returned. Marcus was nowhere to be seen but Varos was still in the chair.

When his eyes fell on her, he stood and pulled her to his chest, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Call for us if you need us.”

“Okay.”

Though it felt intrusive, she went into Lysander’s bathroom once Varos was gone. She dampened a cloth, cleaning Lysander before dressing him in a pair of shorts draped over the edge of the bed. She didn’t want him to wake up feeling dirty or naked. Surprisingly, she was able to manipulate him easily, as if he weighed no more than a child. She had to remind herself of Varos’s words: her new self came with new abilities—strength being one of them.

Once he was taken care of, she slipped out of his room to grab her favourite book, then returned to the bedroom. She climbed into bed next to him and placed the book in her lap. Lysander rested and she read, gently combing her fingers through his hair while she waited for him to recover.

Eighteen

Lysander

When he started to regain consciousness, he leaned into the hand stroking through his hair. The familiarity of it happening in his own bed made it that much sweeter. He’d been dressed and cleaned. At least that’s what it felt like when he squirmed beneath the blanket. He was no stranger to this sort of awakening, but to do it in his own bed was much better than having silver chains burning his skin.

He peeled his eyes open to see Avalon sitting next to him with her legs crossed and a book in her lap. When she noticed him awake, she visibly relaxed.

“I was worried about you.”