72. Ell-rom

72

ELL-ROM

L ater, as Ell-rom lay in bed holding the sleeping Jasmine in his arms, he thought about what had transpired between them, and despaired.

The truth was that he couldn't have bitten her even if he wanted to. The urge had been there, the instinct was strong, and when he had shamefully restrained her to prevent her from running away from him, he was about to do it, but he doubted he could have actually gone through with it and sunk his fangs into her neck.

The memory of the taste of blood was so revolting to him that just the thought of having her blood on his fangs made him nauseous.

What was he going to do?

The venom bite was part of immortal sex, and he wouldn't be able to induce Jasmine's transition without it.

Perhaps the medics could milk his venom and put it into a syringe so he could inject it into her?

Right now, his venom glands were swollen, and a distant memory of biting a towel pushed itself into his mind. Was that how he had dealt with the urge back on Anumati?

He had assumed that since he had never had sex before, he had never felt the urge to bite either. But perhaps he had imagined being with a female and had touched himself. He didn't know whether it was permitted or not, but he had a feeling that he and Morelle hadn't followed all the rules imposed on acolytes.

If only he could remember more.

As a priest, he had probably never gotten aggressive enough to produce the combative type of venom either, so he also hadn't been forced to bite any males. With how strong his aversion to blood was, Ell-rom doubted he could have done that either.

Perhaps he could have overcome his opponent by throwing up on him.

He chuckled softly so as not to wake his mate, but there was no mirth in the sound.

He was such a failure as a male.

How was he going to satisfy his mate and protect her if he couldn't bring himself to use his Goddess-given gifts?

How would he make Jasmine immortal?