Spencer and make a plan. They couldn’t stay in Roxburgh. Sir would come for her, he’d tear down these walls to bring her home, and he’d destroy everyone in his path while doing it.
Her gaze darted to Gunner. No.
That couldn’t happen, not to him.
What was it about this male? Why did her body react the way it did when he was close? She pulled away—
Gunner’s grip tightened again. “Trying to sleep, female.”
She froze, her gaze darting to his still closed eyes.
Pushing against him again, she tried to climb off the bed.
Gunner growled and tugged her back. “No.”
Luna blinked down at him. No?
One of his massive, calloused hands curled around the back of her head, and he gently but firmly brought her face to the crook of his neck. Without her say-so, she breathed him in deep. His scent was so good, and oddly calming.
“Drink,” he said. “Then sleep.”
She jolted again, her gaze moving down her own body. She was in a huge, oversize shirt. It didn’t smell like Gunner and it was splattered with blood. Mainly demon. She was naked underneath. Had they had sex? Had he taken payment for the blood he’d given her?
She’d been so lost in her bloodlust, she couldn’t remember much of anything. “We’re both naked,” she said, her throat scratchy, voice husky.
His eyes snapped open, his gaze clashing with hers. “When I shift, I lose my clothes. You needed to feed. Didn’t have time to dress, love.”
Love?
No one had ever called her that before. Why was he calling her that? Maybe he called all females that? For some reason that made her…angry.
His gaze slid down her body to the shirt she was wearing, and his jaw tightened.
She licked her lips. “I’m sorry you had to…uh, suffer through that. Um…did we, did you and I…”
“Did we what?” His eyes flashed, narrowing.
“We’re in bed together,” she said by way of explanation.
“Are you asking if I fucked you?”
She nodded.
His jaw got even tighter. “While you were nothing but skin and bones, out of your mind with hunger, in pain, and scared as hell?”
She bit her lip and tried not to flinch at the disgust on Gunner’s face.
“You are repulsive. So ugly, like this. Does it hurt, my little dhampir?”
Sir's words echoed through her mind. She’d never cared about her looks, or what anyone thought of them. But for some reason, she didn’t want Gunner to be repulsed by her. “No, of course not. I’m sorry. You and your brothers rescued me. You let me…” She motioned to his body, to the bite marks all over him. “Feed from you. That must have been awful for you. But I’m grateful.” She shifted, sitting up.
Her head spun a little, but she felt strong, amazing actually. Gunner’s blood didn’t make her feel sick or confused. Her head didn’t hurt, it was clear and…she stared down at her hand. Holy hell. Her skin looked like cream silk. Her gaze shot back to Gunner’s. His blood had done this? “I need to leave now,” she said, because right then she seriously wanted the opposite, and that was so incredibly dangerous.
And she didn’t…feel like herself. Drinking Sir’s blood had made her feel like a twisted junkie. Gunner’s made her feel healthy, alert. So goddamn good.
“You’re safe now,” he said in a deep, soothing voice.
“If I stay here, this place, wherever this is, will be compromised. He’ll come for me. He’ll tear down the walls to get to me.” And when you find out the terrible things I’ve done for him, you’ll either kill me or throw me out, anyway.
Gunner’s nostrils flared, eyes going hard. “You are safe here. He can’t get past our wards, I promise you that.”
She shook her head, trying to pull away again. “You don’t know…you don’t know what the hell he’s capable of, you don’t know…”
“What’s your name, love?”
She blinked at him, the dramatic change of subject and tone of his voice as surprising as hearing that endearment again. It was enough to pull her from the edge. “Luna.”
His chest expanded, and his eyes softened. “Yeah? I like that.”
Warmth filled her belly. She had no idea what that meant, and she refused to acknowledge the way his now soft eyes made her belly swirl. “Anyway, thank you, for…this. But I need to go. I need to find Spencer…”
“Spencer?”
“He was at the house when you came. He’s my friend.” That’s what Spencer called them, anyway. The concept was confusing to her.