His wound would eventually heal. He’d had worse. The indignation of being injured with his own weapon would take longer.
He couldn’t believe Sorin had kept his sword. The alpha didn’t have any use for the weapon. It was perfectly balanced for Benic’s hand. He’d owned it ever since he came to Amerigo over a hundred years ago. Finding a replacement would be time consuming.
“Benic?” Kele stepped under the shadow of the tree and knelt next to him. “You’re hurt.” She pried his hands from the wound.
Pain shot across his abdomen. He bent over and clutched his gut, breathing hard. “That’s an understatement. I’ll be fine with time. Don’t concern yourself with me.”
“Have you fed?”
Shifting his hips, he sat up straighter. “From whom? I doubt Ahote or Sorin would have offered since they’re the ones who impaled me in the first place.”
“Here.” She presented her wrist close to his mouth.
A shudder ran through his body. Instinctual hunger could drive a vampire mad. After his blood loss last night, it was a wonder he hadn’t torn out Peder’s throat upon his arrival. He possessed little love for the omega but he had to admire how Peder slipped into Kele’s affections so quickly.
For someone who was supposed to be submissive and fulfill everyone’s needs, Peder seemed to always get what he desired. That required skill.
“That’s very gracious of you, Kele.” He took her wrist in his hands, careful to be gentle, and brought it to his lips. With a meal close at hand, his hunger jumped up and roared. He met her stare as he pressed his fangs against her skin and licked the spot he planned on biting.
Her gaze softened.
With an expert’s ease, he pierced her. The salty flavor of her blood filled his mouth. Sucking at the dual puncture, he closed his eyes and moaned.
Kele’s quiet gasp was pleasure to his ears.
He could sense her leaning forward and deepened his feeding, taking longer, slower draughts. She tasted better than the finest wines. Rich and warm, her blood eased his pains. How easy to drain her, but he released his bite. His muscles trembled with restraint. She hadn’t quenched his thirst. A few more volunteers would be needed before his hunger was sated. With his thumb, he applied pressure to the wound and stopped the bleeding. It wouldn’t take long.
Licking his lips, he rested against the tree trunk, savoring the aftertaste. She rarely agreed to feed him.
Over her shoulder, Benic didn’t miss the glare directed at him from Peder. Let the games begin, little shifter. “Why would you feed me after all the wrong you think I have done?”
“Sorin has Susan back, and I forgive your misguided attempt at rescuing me from an unwanted mating.” She stared at her lap and picked at imaginary lint. Her pale hair fell across her face, hiding her expression. “You were a friend once.” She whispered the last sentence.
The words struck deeper than the sword. His smile faded, and he slipped his hand from her wrist. “I still am.”
Ahote coughed, choking on a mouth full of hog. He hit his chest and swallowed with some difficulty. “You have an odd way of showing it.”
Kele rose and sat next to the fire pit.
Physical pain could be ignored. It would heal and become a faded memory. The sight of Kele taking a morsel from Peder’s hands branded a hurt on his heart that would never mend. Did he love her? Or was it her rejection? Only time would tell.
He glared at the dark shifter. “You’re alive. I could have used a poison instead of a sedative on my blowdarts.” He pulled his knees up to his chest to ease the pain and gazed out into the forest.
Ahote shook his head. “I’m sure in a sick, vampire fashion, this is considered a sign of friendship.”
“As a matter of fact it is. You mean something to Kele. It would be rude to cause her unnecessary grief.” Though he could live with the loss of both these shifters.
Kele raised her hands. “Enough. It’s a matter that is finished.”
She said she forgave him but he could sense the difference. Their relationship was damaged. He’d have to find a way to make amends since he still wanted good ties to the Payami. Benic sighed, suddenly feeling all his years. He watched the forest. Where was Sorin? For an alpha, he sure was taking his time in catching his exhausted and weak mate.
Chapter Forty-Six
Sorin, in feral form, followed Susan’s trail from the Temple. Once again she ran from him in a time of trouble, instead of to him.
When they’d first met at the Temple, he’d forgiven her for running away since she’d never seen a shifter in feral form before. Rushing from his den, after Lailanie had confronted her, had hurt but he thought they had cleared their misunderstandings. Now this—once again she was distressed and ran from his care. Ran from him. Didn’t she know he loved her with all his heart?
Her lack of faith in him stung more than any injury he’d ever suffered. He followed her scent and stayed in close proximity, to protect her, but didn’t intrude on her need to be alone. She ran for a reason and he let her. For the moment.
She made enough noise in her supposed escape that it required little effort to follow. He hid in the brush and watched her collapse by the stream, her head bent and the ends of her hair trailing in the fast-flowing water.
Quiet sobs reached his ears.
They twisted his heart into knots. He took a deep breath to relieve the pressure. Why was she crying? She’d survived the infection and they could be together. When she woke this morning, he’d experienced a joy so deep it stole his breath.
He sat hard on the ground and watched her. Nothing stalked the forest that he could hear or smell. She was safe from everything but his confusion.
Should he go to her? He flicked his ear, swatting a curious fly away. In all the years since his mother passed, he’d never needed her advice more than now.
“I know you’re there.” Susan spoke with a broken voice.
He sighed, somewhat relieved she’d taken the decision of contact from him. He rose to his feet and pushed through the brush until he reached the edge of the stream. “How did you know?” If she ran again, he wouldn’t chase. This kind of game had to end. He sat close without touching her, even though every instinct in his body cried out to cradle her in his arms.
She chuckled and sobbed at the same time. “I could smell you.” She faced him, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, and threw herself against his chest. Her shoulders shook as she cried in silence.
Relief melted him against her. She still needed him, wanted him. He crushed her in his arms, burying his nose in her hair, and waited.
Susan’s throat ached. She couldn’t remember ever crying like this before. She never had reason to, never lost anything important enough to grieve this hard. Her sobs eased into shudders as she clung to Sorin.
Rubbing her face against his thick fur, she inhaled his scent. It eased the tension in her shoulders. The comfort his presence offered only reminded her of how much she would lose if she turned into a vampire.
She wanted to cry some more but her tears had run dry. “Shift to civil form for me?”
He leaned away to stare into her face, concern in his expression. The soft fur disappeared, and his stern face returned as he fulfilled her request. “Why are you so upset?” He brushed her hair from her cheeks.
She crawled onto his lap and nestled her face into the crook of his neck. “I’m not human anymore. I don’t know what I am.”
“You’re Susan.” He sounded so confused, she laughed. His response was so simple, as if it should solve all her worries.
“Am I? Wasn’t being human part of me?”
“Sure, but so will this.” He kissed her forehead. “Is that what all your tears were about?”