The Warrior Vampire(69)

He’d throw himself on her blade before he’d allow the evil inside of him to harm a hair on her head.

Limbs heavy with fatigue, Ronan tried to fight against the hold of daylight over his body. A chill snaked up his legs, winding like icy vines over his torso and chest. The darkness within him surged, rising to the surface of his psyche once again. His throat burned. The thirst consumed him. There wasn’t enough blood in the world to satisfy his lust for it.

Anger. Fear and panic constricted his chest. He couldn’t let it win. Couldn’t allow it to hurt Naya. She’d calmed the darkness before, sent it back to wherever it lay dormant with the simple touch of her hand. Her fiery heat was like a summer sun over a blanket of snow. Through the tether he sought her out despite every instinct screaming at him to keep her at bay. Her blood was a heady nectar that he couldn’t resist. Her body beautiful round curves and supple flesh that he couldn’t wait to touch. In the darkness, her soul was a beacon that called to him, kept him anchored to the earth.

Naya.

Yessssss! The darkness seethed, hungry.

No! Violent spasms shook Ronan as the cold took root. He instinctually reached out for Naya, desperate for the comfort of their bond, of her body, her heat. The darkness rose inside of him like a thick fog, clouding his mind and intent, stealing the sensation from his limbs.

“Oh, gods. Ronan, you need to calm down!”

Blind, his limbs useless, Ronan had no idea if the sweet tenor of her voice was real or in his mind. The warmth of her body buffeted his and the darkness lapped greedily at it. She smoothed his hair from his brow. The daytime sleep that made him all but useless gave way to the command of the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. Ronan’s eyes snapped open and he saw the world through a haze of red. Naya loomed above him, concern etched on her beautiful face.

“Ronan? Stay with me, okay? You need to focus. Try to calm down.”

Feed. Need. Blood.

Like a whip his arm struck out, his fingers curling around her throat. Naya’s eyes went wide with panic as she tried to pry his grip loose.

Drain her. So hungry. Need her blood.

The dark voice seethed in Ronan’s subconscious and he was helpless to fight it. Icy tendrils traveled up the length of his throat, past his jaw, and into his brain. He gnashed his teeth together as he fought the pain, the influence he couldn’t seem to shake. Naya gasped for breath and he flipped them around until she lay on the bed and he hovered above her.

“Ro-nan.” The word was nothing more than a pained gasp. “Stop.”

Don’t stop until you’ve taken every drop of blood she has to give.

Ronan’s mind resisted the command, but still his grip tightened. If only the sun would shine through the window, burn him to a crisp. Anything to save her from this parasitic thing that had attached itself to him. She struggled beneath him, the scent of her fear fouling the air. His stomach turned, knotting itself as he lowered his mouth to her exposed throat.

“Kill me, Naya.” His voice was sandpaper scraping its way up his throat.

A blast of heat struck his chest and Ronan flew backward. He slammed against the far wall and crumpled to the carpeting. The force within him stilled, but Naya had failed to rout it.

“Again!”

The darkness roared its agony in a blast of icy cold as Naya attacked again. Crimson stained his sight and she was nothing more than a smudge of color in the darkened room. Ronan’s back arched off the carpet with such force that he felt a vertebra snap. It healed in an instant, but his body continued to contort, bones snapping and knitting over and again. His pained shout shook the walls that surrounded them and through the agony he heard Luz’s frantic shout as she urged Naya to drive her dagger through his heart.

“Yes!” he shouted. It was the only way to protect her. “Do it! Now!”

“No!” Her impassioned cry rang with sorrow and desperation.

Luz stepped into Ronan’s field of vision, her face an impassive mask. “If you won’t do it, I will.”

“If you touch him, you’ll regret it!” Naya barked. “Back off, Luz.”

His mate was fierce. Another shock of heat infused his body and the darkness retreated deeper inside of him. Naya’s mouth caressed his, soft. Slow. So damned warm. A silky glide that heated Ronan’s blood and hardened his cock. He rose up to sit and she settled in his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Naya, are you out of your fucking mind?”

Her cousin’s alarm took a backseat to Ronan’s lust. He couldn’t be bothered to care about keeping a level head. About anyone’s safety. Or about having a gods-damned audience as he kissed Naya.