He should move. Get up. Run.

But he just felt so weak.

A door opened. Closed. Footsteps came into the room. Soft, rustling.

“Hello, witch.” That was Lorcan’s rough voice.

The footsteps stopped. Heath managed to turn his head, just a few inches, and he saw the woman.

No, not just a normal woman, a witch.

She was beautiful, with golden hair and deep eyes. But those eyes looked wrong—broken.

His gaze slid to her neck, and to the deep marks there. Would he soon bear similar scars?

Lorcan destroys everything that he touches.

The witch stared down at Heath. Pity softened her face. “I thought you were going to let him live.”

“I am.” Lorcan just sounded bored. He usually did. “Don’t worry, my dear, I didn’t drain him dry. He’ll be able to pull himself off the floor soon enough.”

The legs of a chair screeched as they were shoved across the wooden floor. Then Lorcan appeared. He wrapped his hands around the witch. Pulled her close.

The vampire acted as if he didn’t even feel the flinch that shook her. “Do you have the cure?” he asked as he bent to lick the woman’s neck.

The pain had lessened in Heath’s neck. What cure?

“I do,” she said. Her eyes didn’t actually look broken so much as dead.

“Once she discovers that she has a brother, Keira—I mean, Jane—will pay dearly for that cure.”

Jane had a brother?

I can use that. I can use this cure. Heath kept his body still on the floor, not wanting to draw Lorcan’s attention.

“Pity for her,” Lorcan muttered, “that she didn’t get the cure sooner. Now it’s time for Ryan to die. Time for him to burn.” He laughed then. “And he will burn, from the inside, out. He’ll die screaming. He won’t even last another full day.”

Lorcan freed the witch. He stalked toward Heath and kicked him in the ribs. “And, human, it’s time for you to finish our deal. Go get Jane. Bring her to me.”

Heath crawled for the door. And, with every painful inch, he planned.

***

She’d chosen him. Him.

Alerac kicked the bedroom door shut behind him. His hands were shaking. The control he’d kept so carefully was being torn to shreds.

Jane waited in the middle of the bedroom. Her arms were by her sides and her feet shifted nervously. “Ah, what happens now?”

Now he took her.

But first…Alerac cleared his throat, and tried to speak with the voice of the man. Hard, when the beast was clawing his way to freedom. “You have to bite me.”

Her sensual lips parted. “I-I already have.”

He shook his head. “That was different. That was about survival. This time, it’s for bonding.” He crossed to her. His fingers lifted, and his thumb pressed against her lips.

She stared at him, and the darkness spread in her eyes.

“You drink from me so that we can be linked.”

Her breath blew lightly over his thumb. “I’ll get more of your memories.”

“Yes.” That didn’t matter to him. She’d chosen to be his mate, so there was no going back now. He wanted her to know all of him. Good. Bad. Everything gray that fell between.

No matter what she saw in his memories, he would find a way to prove to Jane that he could be better. That their life together could be a happy one.

Her fangs were growing. Maybe he shouldn’t have found vampire fangs sexy. He did, but only on her.

“Go ahead.” He invited her as he forced his hand to drop. “Bite me.”

Her fingers rose and pressed against his chest. The palm of her right hand was just over his tattoo, and the mark seemed to burn at her touch.

“What is this?” Jane asked. Her gaze had fallen on the edges of that tattoo. “How do you even have it? I would think that when you shift, it would vanish.”

“It’s a special tattoo.” And it had taken two days to get it. Two days of gut-wrenching pain. Because she was right—a normal tattoo would have vanished with his shift. “A witch made a magic ink for me. One that would last forever.”

He didn’t tell her what the Celtic knot meant, not then. Alerac didn’t reveal that the tattoo itself was a symbol of forever, that the corners symbolized his search. North. South. East. West. He’d vowed to search every corner of the earth.

For her.

She’d already accepted his claim. In that moment, he just wanted to focus on the present. On making sure the bond that they created was strong.

Her eyes met his. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“When Liam bit me…” Her body trembled. “It hurt. I don’t want to do that to you.”

“When you bite me, it’s not about pain.” His fingers slid down her body. Gripped her slender waist. “Only pleasure.”

“Promise?”

“I f**kin’ vow it.”

Jane gave a small nod. Then she rose onto her toes. Her mouth was on his throat. Yes. He felt the lick of her tongue. The caress of her lips.

The bite of her teeth.

His control shattered as the pleasure pumped through him.

He pulled her tighter against him. Held her closer. His c**k was fully erect, desperate to thrust inside of her. He was desperate.

Her mouth on him…the pleasure was almost as strong as the release he found when he was thrusting into her body.

He shoved down her jeans. She kicked them away, along with her shoes.

He tore her underwear. Tossed it.

Her mouth was still on him.

He wanted in her.

He lifted her lips. Jane’s legs wrapped around him. Her tongue pressed over his skin. She was lifting her teeth—

“Don’t stop,” he ordered. Or maybe he begged.

He took two steps. The bed was too far. He pushed her back against the nearest wall. Held her in his arms. Drove as deep into her as he could go.

He filled her. Every single inch of her hot core. She was tight and wet, and he had no control. None.

He was holding her too tightly. Driving in to her too deeply. But he couldn’t stop.

Again and again, he thrust into her. Deeper. Harder. More.

She came, bucking against him, and her mouth pulled from his as she cried out his name.

Her sex clenched around him, spasming with her release. Those milking contractions propelled him to his own climax. He thrust hard into her. And erupted.