Her quiet sob and the sudden well of joyful tears that filled her eyes was all the answer he needed.
He brought his wrist to his mouth and sank his fangs into the vein that throbbed there. Then he guided her lips to the wound and held her close as she drank.
Chapter 12
Night was arriving much too quickly.
Scythe could have lain with Chiara in his arms all day, but there had been important work to do in preparation for the battle ahead. He had secured all portals inside the villa hours ago, but as the afternoon waned toward sunset, he couldn’t keep from making another tactical inspection of the house that would need to serve as his bunker.
And there was still one more critical area of his defense that needed to be addressed as well.
Chiara.
Even before they shared their blood, his mind had been made up as to the best means of keeping her out of her assailant’s reach. Now that he and Chiara were mated, his resolve had only gotten firmer.
She wasn’t going to like his decision, but he would fight that battle when it came too.
As he checked and rechecked the assault rifle he’d stowed outside the panic room of the villa’s wine cellar, his veins began to tingle with the awareness of her approach behind him.
“The sun is going down now,” she murmured soberly. “How long do you think we’ll have before...?”
As her voice trailed off, he set the Kalashnikov and extra 30-round magazines back into their hiding spots on one of the floor-to-ceiling wine racks, then turned to face her.
“Not long, sweetheart.”
“The Order’s not going to make it in time to help us, are they?”
“I doubt it.” He wasn’t going to lie to her. She deserved his honesty, especially when they were about to face this incoming threat together.
A few hours ago, Scythe had phoned Trygg to call off the blood Host and to inform his brother that he and Chiara had mated. The newsflash hadn’t earned him any congratulations from Trygg or the Rome commander, Lazaro Archer. And although Scythe had never been one to ask for favors or backup, he had requested both from the Order.
They weren’t able to make any promises. There had been a Rogue outbreak in Florence last night. The emergency mission had demanded the work of the entire team from Rome, and the warriors were grounded in that northern city until nightfall.
“Even if they start heading our way now,” Scythe told her, “they’re still hours away from Potenza.”
“I see.” She nodded in grave understanding, but he could feel the subtle spike of his brave mate’s apprehension. The deep hum that had become a welcome presence since he’d taken his first sip of her blood intensified as a shudder swept over her.
Scythe frowned as he drew her into his arms. “I wish I had sent you away like I wanted to. Keeping you here with me—taking your blood—was the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.”
She shook her head. “No more selfish than me offering it to you. Or me wanting to stay wherever you are. I love you, Scythe.”
He could feel her conviction through their bond, but hearing her say the words leveled him. It humbled him. “You honor me too much. But I love you too. More than you can ever know.”
A beautiful smile spread over her face. “I do know. I feel it. I feel it like a growing vibration in my bones. I feel it thrumming all the way into my marrow.”
Was that what it was? Merely the manifestation of their bond?
He was certain she was the source of the strange undercurrent of power he felt since they had mated, but he didn’t get a chance to say the words.
Like a switch being flipped, his internal alarm lit up with warning. Danger was closing in on the vineyard property. They likely had only minutes before the worst of it would be upon them.
He couldn’t hide his visceral reaction from Chiara now. His blood told her everything.
He braced himself to feel her terror arc through him, but the sensation didn’t come. The strongest emotion he felt from her was resolve. Courage he could hardly reconcile.
“I’m ready,” she said, her voice a fierce little snarl as she stepped out of his embrace. She had never been more beautiful than in that moment, her dark eyes glittering with determination. “Let’s do this.”
“Not us, Chiara. Me.” He gestured to the open door of the panic room.
Confusion and outrage spiked her blood. She took a breath as if she meant to argue and he shook his head harshly.
“I need you to stay here. Do it for me, so I know where to find you once this is over. When I go out there now, I need to know you’re safe.”
“And I need to be with you! Dammit, Scythe, we stay together.”
“We are together,” he said, taking her fisted hand and opening it over the center of his chest, where his heart hammered in time with hers. “You’ll feel me with you every second. And I’ll feel you.”