The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

couldn’t think past the hunger—couldn’t focus on anything
but that.
“I don’t understand,” the other male said. “Even with
the blood of the gods in her, she was still mortal.”
The one who held me shifted his hand from my chin and
touched my lips. The urge to snap down on his finger rode
me hard, but I couldn’t fight him. The hold he had on me
wouldn’t allow it as he gently pushed back my upper lip.
“She doesn’t have fangs,” he said, his gaze quickly
returning to mine. I felt…I felt the tartness of his confusion
give way to the earthy, woodsy sensation of relief. “I know
what this is. It’s bloodlust. She’s experiencing bloodlust, but
she didn’t Ascend. That’s why you still feel the Primal
notam.” He slipped his thumb away and shuddered. “Feed,”
he whispered, letting go.
Bindings I couldn’t see or feel left me. I could move. He
lifted his wrist once more, and I latched on to him. My
mouth sealed over his wound again. The blood wasn’t
flowing as freely as before, but I drank deeply anyway,
drawing him into me.
“Careful,” the other…the wolven warned. “You’ve given
a lot of blood and haven’t nearly taken enough.”
“I’m fine. You should leave.”
“Not going to happen,” the wolven growled. “She may
hurt you.”
The one who fed me let out a rough chuckle. “Shouldn’t
you be more concerned about her well-being now?”
“I’m concerned about both of you.”
The male sighed. “This could get…intense.”
There was a beat of silence. “It already is.”
Something about what the wolven said and the
raggedness in the way the one I fed from spoke should have
concerned me. And it did a little. I wasn’t sure why, but I
was lost again in the one who held me, in his taste and his
essence. I barely felt him move, sitting down and gathering
me close in his lap, cuddling me against his chest as he kept