"I'm sorry," Ava whispered, and something pricked his arm. "Malloryn insisted I sedate you, or I wasn't allowed to be in here with you alone."
"Won't hurt you...." He was feeling sleepy again.
"You're newly made. You don't understand the full extent of the changes to your body." Ava hesitated. "You wouldn't mean to do it, but the craving... it's quite powerful when you're freshly made, and you were injured so badly your craving virus levels spiked immediately. You're already sitting at 12 percent, which is rather high after only three days."
Three days?
The spike of anxiety faded as warmth flooded through him. Somehow he captured her hand, sinking into the soft pillows. He blinked sleepily.
"Promise you'll stay?" he whispered.
Ava rested her elbows on the bed, giving him a tremulous smile as she kissed his hand. "Not even Malloryn could drag me out. I'll be here when you wake again. I promise."
* * *
Another three days passed.
Ava grew restless, pacing the small room when Kincaid slept, and tucking up beside his broad body when she needed rest. Every time he opened his eyes, she poured blood into him, and sedated him afterwards as soon as she could.
Sometimes she cried, though of course, no tears formed. And it was silly to cry, because he'd lived, but she'd been so certain in those blackest moments she was losing him. Perhaps that was what brought on the sobs-her mind's struggle to realize he'd actually survived.
It was during one such moment Kincaid woke. The first Ava knew of it, his hand was stroking through her hair as she knelt beside the bed and stifled the sobs in the mattress.
"Come here, kitten," he whispered.
So Ava slid into his warm blankets and the wide-open arms that greeted her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"Just don't sedate me yet," he murmured, dragging her against his chest. "Why are you crying, Ava?"
"I thought you were dead. It was so close. You stopped breathing, and I didn't know what to do, and I know this isn't what you wanted-"
"Isn't it?" He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Ava, there was a reason I never got the craving virus vaccination."
She looked up into his scruff-jawed face.
Kincaid released a heavy breath. "You're right. A part of me didn't want this to happen, even as a part of me knew it might be my only hope. But I don't think I would have taken that step, not until I met you and realized we could have forever together.""Forever?" she breathed.
"Forever," he insisted, and then rolled onto his side so they were sharing the pillow and staring into each other's eyes. Kincaid stroked her thick hair off her face. "I'm an idiot, Ava. But I don't look a gift horse in the mouth. You and I have been given a miracle. And... I have a new proposition for you."
"What sort of proposition?"
Kincaid captured her face and turned it up to his. "The kind I think you'll like. Marry me, Ava. Marry me and spend all our years at my side. Let me love you every day."
Happiness spilled within her. "I didn't think you were the marrying type."
"Nor do I mess with virgins, women who have their hearts in their eyes, or blue bloods," he said solemnly, and then smiled. "You've ruined all my rules, made me throw them straight out the window. I'm head over heels for you, kitten. And I don't like the way the Major Winthrops of the world look at you. You're mine, and I want everyone to know it." He leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. "Especially you. I want you to know you're mine, Ava, because you have this terrible habit of doubting yourself, and I won't have that. Be my wife. Let me love you. We can sort out all the rest."
Ava threw her arms around him, capturing his mouth in a blistering kiss.
"Was that a yes?" Kincaid drawled, rolling her onto her back and settling between her thighs.
"Yes!" she cried, so deliriously happy she wished she could capture this moment and freeze it somehow, so she could look back on it and smile every day. There were still many things to work out, but she felt like they could compromise. She'd always wanted children, but there was no reason they couldn't adopt, if he wished not to have his own.
"Excellent," he purred, and kissed her again, this time setting her ablaze. "Because I'm having a hard time concentrating right now. Is it always like this?"
"Like what?"
"An overwhelming, relentless urge to fuck, to mark your skin a little, as if I can put my own brand there."
"No." She captured his face and kissed him. "Not until I met you, anyway."
Kincaid groaned, his hand restless down her side, and his hips insistent. He drove her down into the sheets, his hard body pressing over her, rubbing against her clitoris in little half thrusts.