Page 16 of The Midnight Arrow

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked.

“It’s not that…” he said. “It’s not that I am. I don’tneedblood. Like Kylorr, it’s only a…a perk.”

“You’re sick. I’m sorry—I should have realized,” I told him, unwrapping the bandage on my wrist. I heard him swallow hard. The edge of one of his wings twitched as I approached. “Let me help you sit up.”

With my help, Lorik maneuvered upright so he leaned against the wooden headboard of my bed. He took up nearly the entire thing.

There would be no room for me unless I was draped over him,came the stray thought.

“This…this is just a feeding,” I said slowly, meeting his eyes. I remembered the warm pleasure that had taken hold before. I didn’t know if I’d be able to look at another Kylorr’s fangs the same again.

His lips quirked, no doubt trying to bring some lightness and levity to the tension strumming tightly between us. “Like my medicine?”

My grin felt too wide on my face, too flustered by the sudden pounding in my breast and the way the healing wound on my wrist began to throb.

“Yes, exactly,” I told him, raising my wrist and sitting down. The pads of Lorik’s fingers, the heat and caress of them, made me shiver when he took it. He brushed his thumb over the vein, and my breath hitched in anticipation.

Perched on the edge of my bed, I was close enough to him to see the sudden swirling in his eyes. Was that a common trait in Kylorr-Allavari?

Our gaze connected and held. This close, I could smell the sharpness of the night nettle, but underneath that, I smelled crushed silver leaves and willowroot moss—earthy but crisp.

He smelled like the Black Veil at dawn.

His fangs elongated. They ran over the vein he’d traced with his thumb.

Then he bit down.

Seven

His choked groan made my eyes close as his venom flooded the bite.

At first it felt like I was floating. A pleasant buzz, a gentle lightness spreading through my limbs, down and up my spine, prickling my scalp, and making my legs twitch. My breathing got heavy, but I tried to keep still. I felt a tugging pull on my wrist, felt the suction on my flesh.

I bit my lip as warmth began to spread. Like an ink bottle spilling, the arousal pooled slowly, inching outward, little by little until I felt it cover me completely. It absorbed itself into my skin and then spilled between my thighs. Every pull at my wrist made it grow. Every tug made me swallow, and I bit my lip.

Perhaps it’s for the best he’s not a full-blooded Kylorr, I thought to myself, dazed,that he has Allavari blood running in his veins.

Kyranas, they’d called them. Long ago. A Kylorr’s fated mate, tied to them by blood and pleasure. Every feeding brought ecstasy. But the days ofkyranasfor hybrids were long past, at least on Allavar. Once the Kylorr and Allavari blood had mixed, once the Severs had gone to the Below, there had been noreports ofkyranas. They were growing rarer and rarer beyond Krynn’s—the Kylorr’s home planet—borders.

But in its place, there wasthis. A gentler version of what akyranafeeding had been…onlythesewere much more common, or so I’d heard. I’d been fed from once before, but that had been with Aysia…there had been nothing remotely sexual about it.

Butthis…

With Lorik, it was completely and utterly different.

He huffed out a sharp breath through his nostrils. The heat spread over my wrist, and I shifted in place on the bed. His back hunched even more, dragging me closer until he was gripping my shoulder with one hand, the other pressed into my forearm, holding me in place. As if afraid I’d back away.

Magic flowed over my sensitive skin. It prickled at my scalp, making me gasp. He was powerful, I realized. More so than I’d first thought. His Allavari magic was tangible—I’d never quite felt anything like it before.

I breathed in deeply, scenting the lovery leaves from the wax candle, heady and earthy. I let that scent ground me, keep me focused as Lorik fed.

I didn’t know how long it went on. It felt both endless and quick. When Lorik dislodged his fangs from my wrist, he did so with a gruff groan, as if loath to leave me. Those blue eyes flashed up to mine, glowing more brightly than I’d seen.

“What are you?” I whispered, brow furrowing, voice sounding far away.

Lorik pressed his lips to my wound, making my own part in wanting. When he pulled away, the fang marks were gone. As if the feeding had never happened in the first place. Erased. Except I would never be able to forget it.

“You don’t want to know, little witch,” he replied.