Alpha Warriors of The Cause - Tamara Rose Blodgett Page 0,45

to back away, would you allow it?”

Jeb's lips curl, and he says tenderly, “I would not like it, Reflective Jasper.”

Her face falls, and she bites her lip, tears threatening.

“Hey now.” Jeb bends down and tilts her chin up so that he can look deep into her eyes. “I meant that as a compliment. I don't see you as I do other females. You are a Reflective warrior—I haven't forgotten.”

“And your soul mate?” she asks, searching his eyes, still in disbelief.

“Always that. Never doubt it.” His hand glides to her nape, and Beth's eyes close. She sinks into the gentle touch of his murderous hands, hands like her own.

“I'm sure that will bring you nothing but grief on Papilio,” a sarcastic voice says from behind them.

Beth gasps, and Jeb puts her protectively behind him.

Slade's huge bulk fills the doorway.

Beth hears the dry click as she swallows. “Try knocking.” Her voice sounds like a toad’s song.

Slade's hand slowly rises, and with great exaggeration, he raps loudly twice on the wooden threshold. Beth fold's her arms, glaring at him in irritation.

Slade saved her, and Beth has to admit, she feels something for him. She's not sure what—a sense of kinship or possibly gratefulness for saving her from Ryan? More?

But right now, he’s pushing all of her buttons.

“What rancor or problems come about from my declaration should not concern a Bloodling,” Jeb says, and Beth winces at his tone.

He says Bloodling as if he means to say imbecile.

Slade hears the disrespect as clearly as Beth does, and he strides forward.

Jeb moves her aside.

“No, Jeb,” Beth says quickly.

She feels a little bad about what she does next. In a flash, she slashes her forearm with her own ceramic blade—deeper than she intended.

Beth cringes as a line of red appears on an arm already littered with the fine scars reminiscent of her profession. What's one more?

Slade halts, his head jerking to the wound, nostrils flaring at the scent of her blood. “What have you done?” he roars at her, fangs lengthening.

“What I had to.” Her voice resonates in the space.

“Dammit, Beth!” Jeb grabs her wrist, and Slade's hand is suddenly there, as well, gripping the arm that holds hers.

The two males pull against each other as Beth bleeds. She knows what she must do, and she doesn't like it. But some evils are necessary.

“I'm hurt,” she says in a voice full of something she never calls upon—feminine wiles.

Slade drops Jeb's arm as though burnt and picks up her wounded one. His eyes dilate, and his fangs extend to their full length.

His breathing is erratic, and his black gaze swells in her vision. It's all she can see, and she is all he stares at.

“Get your fucking fangs put away, Bloodling,” Jeb says ominously.

“No, Jeb. Slade must heal me.” Beth's eyes go to Slade's.

His lips part, and his pupils dilate, giving way to eyes like solid obsidian gems.

“Yes.” He pulls her forward and runs his nose over her bleeding forearm, hovering just above the wound. His tongue snakes out, lapping the blood, and he groans. Jeb is forgotten, just as Beth knew he would be.

Slade leans his powerful body over hers and draws her closer with one arm.

Jeb inserts himself between them. “Beth—no. There must be another way.”

“Take my blood, Slade. I invite you to partake of my vein.”

Beth feels the pierce of his fangs, and Jeb seizes Beth around the waist, tense and ready to jerk her away from the feeding Bloodling.

“He'll tear my arm off,” Beth says in a panicked voice.

Jeb's forehead flops against her shoulder, and he asks, “Why?”

“Because we need him. We need Slade to navigate the treacherous waters of One. I can't have you two at each other's throats and hope to survive this.”

Slade devours her blood, and she begins to feel weak. A riot of goosebumps rise in response to his suckling, and deep inside Beth, an erotic response echoes with each pull of his mouth. Beth seizes a harsh breath.

Slade's eyes roll up to meet hers.

He knows.

Beth squeezes back her fear and surprise over her instant arousal, but the pulse between her legs frightens her more than anything in her entire life has. “We will own him a little with this,” she breathes through harsh pants.

Jeb's arms squeeze around her. “Tell him to stop, or I'll kill him,” he says with menace.

Beth hand reaches out, letting it hover reluctantly over the Bloodlingsʼ inky hair. “Slade, stop. You're making me weak.”

Immediately, the pulls become gentle, and the horrible flood of heat