Feed Her

Even though Caleb had tucked her inside the blankets ensuring that she was warm enough, fear coursed through him when after an hour of watching over her, she didn't come out of her unconsciousness and didn't show signs of healing. Panic prickled his skin like thorns. He rubbed his throat to ease the veins that stood in his neck. In order to control his raging emotions, he gasped on a choked breath. He held her hand desperately as if that was the only source of stability in his life. The irony was that it was the biggest source of worries in his life. His gaze darted to take everything else in the room, but with a racing heartbeat, all he could think of was how to help her.

The bandages he had put on her wounds were soon becoming wet with blood. What kind of poison was she stabbed with? He had just seen her blood cake and thought that the wounds started healing, but apparently, more blood was flowing.

"What do I do? What should I do?" He stabbed his fingers through his hair. There was only one option left for her to heal. He took a small knife placed on the fruit tray on the bedside table and sliced his wrist.

"Drink from me, Elize," he pleaded her in a whisper.

As if on an instinct, Elize clenched her lips tight. Did she know that Caleb was with her? Angry and desperate as hell, Caleb pulled her in his lap and then pried her lips open easily. Even though she had clenched them tight, she was too weak to hold them against his brute strength. He parted her lips and when he placed his wrist above her lips, a small drop reached inside her mouth. He saw her licking her lips and that was it. He inserted his wrist in her mouth and she closed her mouth around it.

Caleb closed his eyes as his throat bobbed. Part of him didn't want to look at her, didn't want to believe that he was again feeding his wife, but he looked down. Relief cut through him so sharply that he had to clench his jaws hard to stop the whimper that was rising up from the depths of his heart. He looked at the way she was drinking from him. The sight was… beyond pleasure. Feeding his wife was what the werewolf wanted, what he was born for.

Her wounds started healing and her skin started stitching on its own. And that was what it should have been like. He turned her towards him and then ran a finger down her back. She was becoming better. The soft creaminess of her skin was returning. Caleb shuddered in relief as the lump in his throat scorched him. A tear ran down his left eye. After so many months she had drunk from him. She had gone too long and he had become so antsy and now—now a dizzying burst of pleasure seared through him. He couldn't believe that his cock shot hard and that he was dying to come.

The color on her skin was back and it was warm. Her cheeks became rosy pink and a moan escaped from her mouth, "Mmmm." When her tongue licked more of his blood, his eyes rolled back in his head. The girl was becoming better, her body stronger. Yes, he was able to feed his vampire wife. She moaned a little more and then as if satisfied, she left his wrist, licking her lips dry. She was still sleeping.

Caleb let out a short laugh and set her back on the bed. He tucked her beneath the sheets and then leaned over her ear. He whispered, "Gods, woman, when I come back, you better be ready. I will fuck you mindless." However, the thought was just a passing emotion. She hated him from the core of her heart. Fucking her mindlessly? That was the most insane idea he had thought about… perhaps a thousand times. It would never happen.

Sadness enveloped him. Would he even have a future with Elize? Over the last few months, only hopelessness has seeped in his heart. He rubbed his hand over his mouth and allowed himself to stop thinking about the future. He wanted to live right now, without the fear of her possible rejection. His wolf hurt being away from her and the idea of rejection killed him. So staying away from her was bearable as compared to the pain if she rejected him.

Elize stirred a little and then turned to the other side. Caleb bent down to steal a kiss on her nape. Her hair had fanned out on the pillow. The pale blond ones looked too beautiful. He caught a curl and wrapped it around his finger. After staring at it for a long time, he smoothed his thumb over it. "Stay here love," he murmured. "This is far more comfortable than your place." He eased his finger from the curl and swept it behind her ear. He dipped his head to kiss her temple and then Caleb couldn't let himself revel in it anymore. On the inside he was scared that he would never get away from her and if she woke up now, she would reject him. The thought left the insides of his trembling like a dry leaf in the hot summer wind. A shaky breath left him. He got out of the bed and then walked to the bathroom.

Caleb came down to the living room where he found Ileus and Arawn lounging on the chairs. His food was placed on the table—roasted pheasant with pancakes and maple syrup and a jug of pineapple juice. Famished after feeding her, he dug into the meat.

"How is she?" Ileus asked as he watched his cousin devouring the food. Werewolves ate a lot and Caleb—well Caleb came from the line of Lycae who somewhere got crossed with werewolves. So yes, that kind of diet was understandable. And Caleb was a sorcerer too because of his mother, Sedora. Gods, the brothers—Daryn and Caleb were fucking powerful, but… but both of them were gentlemen to the core, dedicated as hell to their wives and fierce mates.

"She is recovering," he replied between having juice and a pancake soaked with syrup.

"That's good then!" Ileus said, clapping his hand and sitting up.