Chapter 7

Seven

His choked groan made my eyes close as his venom flooded the bite.

At first it felt like I was floating. A pleasant buzz, a gentle lightness spreading through my limbs, down and up my spine, prickling my scalp, and making my legs twitch. My breathing got heavy, but I tried to keep still. I felt a tugging pull on my wrist, felt the suction on my flesh.

I bit my lip as warmth began to spread. Like an ink bottle spilling, the arousal pooled slowly, inching outward, little by little until I felt it cover me completely. It absorbed itself into my skin and then spilled between my thighs. Every pull at my wrist made it grow. Every tug made me swallow, and I bit my lip.

Perhaps it's for the best he's not a full-blooded Kylorr, I thought to myself, dazed, that he has Allavari blood running in his veins.

Kyranas, they'd called them. Long ago. A Kylorr's fated mate, tied to them by blood and pleasure. Every feeding brought ecstasy. But the days of kyranas for hybrids were long past, at least on Allavar. Once the Kylorr and Allavari blood had mixed, once the Severs had gone to the Below, there had been no reports of kyranas. They were growing rarer and rarer beyond Krynn's—the Kylorr's home planet—borders.

But in its place, there was this. A gentler version of what a kyrana feeding had been…only these were much more common, or so I'd heard. I'd been fed from once before, but that had been with Aysia…there had been nothing remotely sexual about it.

But this…

With Lorik, it was completely and utterly different.

He huffed out a sharp breath through his nostrils. The heat spread over my wrist, and I shifted in place on the bed. His back hunched even more, dragging me closer until he was gripping my shoulder with one hand, the other pressed into my forearm, holding me in place. As if afraid I'd back away.

Magic flowed over my sensitive skin. It prickled at my scalp, making me gasp. He was powerful, I realized. More so than I'd first thought. His Allavari magic was tangible—I'd never quite felt anything like it before.

I breathed in deeply, scenting the lovery leaves from the wax candle, heady and earthy. I let that scent ground me, keep me focused as Lorik fed.

I didn't know how long it went on. It felt both endless and quick. When Lorik dislodged his fangs from my wrist, he did so with a gruff groan, as if loath to leave me. Those blue eyes flashed up to mine, glowing more brightly than I'd seen.

"What are you?" I whispered, brow furrowing, voice sounding far away.

Lorik pressed his lips to my wound, making my own part in wanting. When he pulled away, the fang marks were gone. As if the feeding had never happened in the first place. Erased. Except I would never be able to forget it.

"You don't want to know, little witch," he replied.

When he let go of my wrist, I pulled away, standing from the bed. I tried to get hold of myself, going to the candle burning on the side table, scraping a piece of wax with the edge of my fingernail that had pooled onto the wood.

"You don't need to worry," he said, his voice soft. "We don't believe in kyranas."

I closed my eyes.

"Surely you know that," he finished.

"I know," I said, though my voice sounded harsh, a little defensive.

"The days of blood mates are long past. The gods and goddesses of Krynn do not look after Allavar, nor its people. That's not to say…"

I turned back to him. Despite his sorry state, despite the infection that was heating his body from the inside out, I would've had to be blind to ignore the curved outline of his erection against my sheets. He brought a knee up when he noticed my straying gaze, and I bit my lip, my hands fluttering at my sides, unsure what to do with them.

"That's not to say what?" I asked, scrambling for words.

He blew out a rough breath. "That's not to say that there are not remnants of it that linger like stardust in the air. Allavar is a strange place. This land is infused with magic that beings from all over the universe have tried to study, to capture, to quantify. And that is only in the Above."

I swallowed hard. "What…what does that have to do with kyranas?"

"Nothing and everything," he replied, the corner of his lip quirking. His riddles again. "Maybe it's magic why you call to me. Why I would know your scent anywhere. Why your blood tastes like ambrosia. Why I'm craving it even now after I've gotten my fill."

I stared at him in surprise, his gentle words like a song that threaded musically through my ears, down my throat, and fluttered in my belly.

"I don't know if my ancestors knew what they were doing, mating with the Allavari. What that bloodline would create. Even still, the Allavari blood tames those berserker rages and the strength a Kylorr would get from a kyranas' blood. Those baser, primal parts of ourselves are tempered with magic, not fed. Kylorr of old could have razed down an entire city on the blood of their kyrana. Me?" His smile returned, easy but tired. "I only wish to listen to your voice and let it lull me back to sleep, though I am sated on your blood. Does that make you feel better, little witch?"

No.

"A little," I said. Mindlessly, I scraped at more wax on the table. "There are some Kylorr in Rolara who still believe in kyranas."

"And who am I to dissuade them?" Lorik asked. "But a kyrana pairing has not been reported in Allavar in nearly three hundred years, when the portal to the Below was reopened. They can believe what they want. Me? I think it's more romantic to choose your mate, not have one be chosen for you. What do you think?"

I chuckled, some of the tension leaving my shoulders. The tingling sensation was beginning to ebb, and I felt more grounded, my heart beginning to steady.

"So when you feed on blood normally…" I trailed off. "It feels like that?"

Lorik's gaze burned. "I didn't say that."

Oh.

"It's like attraction," he said. "A Kylorr will like the taste of someone and not another. You?" He blew out a rough breath, his leg shifting underneath the sheet. "I like your blood very, very much, Marion. We fit one another in that way. It's natural. It's not uncommon, but no, it doesn't happen every time. I've only experienced it once before."

"A lover?" I asked before I thought better of it.

He smiled, watching me. His teeth seemed sharper in the low light, but I couldn't find it in me to be afraid.

"Yes."

I nodded.

"Have you ever been fed from before?" he wanted to know.

"Once," I told him. "My sister, Aysia."

His brow furrowed. "Was she sick?"

I knew why he was asking. It wasn't common practice to feed on a family member unless the circumstances were dire.

"She was dying. It…it didn't save her," I said quietly.

His wings twitched. "I'm sorry, Marion."

"It was a long time ago," I told him. Ten years. "And it's not a secret. She wasn't my sister by blood. Only in…" My soul, my heart. "Only in every way it actually mattered."

"What happened to her?" Lorik asked. I continued to scrape my nail across the wood, though no more wax remained. "I've heard rumors, but…you never truly know."

"She fell in love," I told him, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"With…Veras?"

I nodded, hating that name. Hating that Allavari male and his slick smile with every fiber of my being. The hate had never dulled. Not a single bit.

"Yes. And it got her killed," I told him. "I'm a healer, and I couldn't save her."