Darkyn's Mate

The scent of blood was crippling.

She tried to turn away, but the smell filled her senses with inhuman hunger and desperation. Deidre sank to the floor, not trusting herself. She wanted - needed - to taste him again. It was painful. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her knees and tucked her face in the crook of one elbow.

Wake up, Deidre! She ordered herself.

Too aware of him, she tensed as he crouched beside her, the scent too potent to be a dream.

"I can't … do this." She shook as much from need as fear.

"You already have."

"It's wrong."

"You feed me. I feed you. We give each other life. What is so wrong in that?" he countered. His cool touch calmed her this time, parted the reeling emotions and chaotic thoughts.

On some level - in the newfound instincts that wanted to taste him - his words made sense. Even with him taking the edge off, reality still wasn't real. This place, him, her situation - they couldn't be, or she was going to go insane.

"Let me go. Please," she whispered, raising her head to see him.

"It's too late for that."

"Is there no part of you capable of …" she stopped. His eyes were so cold and ancient. Hard. Unforgiving. Merciless.

"No, there's not," he replied just as softly.

"Am I so bad that I end up married to the devil?"

"You are the only innocent soul in Hell." His chilling smile did nothing to make his statement more tolerable.

Darkyn tipped her chin up, until she met his gaze again.

"This is where you belong. You must accept that. You must accept me. I didn't just turn you Immortal; I turned you into one of my kind. A demon. One who must feed on blood to live."

He offered his bloodied thumb. With effort, she turned her head away.

"I can't be like you. I can't hurt people or drink their blood," she said.

"You don't have to. You will only drink from me. You will only hunger for me."

"And you?" she asked, bitterness in her voice.

"The same."

Uncertain if she understood him or not, Deidre studied him. He had yet to lie to her, and she didn't think he was now. He had no need to; this was his domain. In his mind, she was already his.

"I will only drink from you," he said slowly, clearly. "It is what being blood bound means. Think of it this way, love. You are saving five lives a day, simply by being my mate." He smiled.

Deidre's mouth almost fell open. "You were killing so many people?"