And he was happy for her that she had family here. Her sister had shown up among the survivors of her village. Sadly, Davyn’s hadn’t.
Before he could speak a word, she took his hand and led him back to her small cottage, which wasn’t very far from where Davyn and Paris lived.
With every step that took him closer to her bed, the ardent hunger mounted inside him. He knew from his mother that their cravings were very different from what humans felt whenever they were hungry. Part of the Apollite curse was a ravenous madness unlike anything imaginable, one that required a partner to be on their guard lest the feeding end up a murder scene where one of them ripped the throat out of the other.
No doubt that was Apollo’s malicious intent, too. The burning hunger that begged their species to devour each other. To possess and ravage as violently as possible. Maybe the humans were right and they were more akin to animals than sentient beings.
Sometimes he did feel as if the demon inside him were the one in control more than the human. And he hadn’t even gone Daimon yet. He could only imagine how much worse he’d be once he converted.
It was a fear that plagued him constantly. That he would become trelos and uncontrollable. What if he lost himself to that madness and never returned?
They lived so close to the edge anyway. Danced with madness on a nightly basis. He knew it wouldn’t take much to nudge anyone over the edge of that precipice.
It was terrifying to know what one was capable of. To be born a killer who preyed in order to live. He could deny the monster inside, but only for so long. The day was coming when he’d have to embrace that beast.
And he knew it.
As soon as they were inside her modest cottage, Xanthia shut the door and locked it. There was no light because monsters didn’t need it. They could see in pure darkness.
She untied her belt and let it fall to her feet.
Urian’s breath rushed out of his body in sweet expectation, then caught as she reached for the fibula on her shoulder. She unfastened it so that her entire gown dropped to the floor.
His throat went dry at the sight of her unadorned beauty. Monster or not, she was perfection. Her pale skin glistened in the darkness and beckoned him with the promise of a lot more than just a succulent meal.
With a gentle smile, she approached him and reached for his baldric and sheath. “So bashful and handsome.”
“I don’t want to scare you.”
That was what came easiest to them.
Laughing, she nipped at his chin while her fingers nimbly worked the leather until she freed him from his armor. Piece by piece, she dropped it to the floor, where it landed with a dull clank. “I never realized how much of this a warrior donned for battle.”
All the better to kill with.
She grimaced at his vambrace. “Nor how heavy it was. No wonder you’re so muscular.”
He smiled as she fumbled with the straps of his hauberk, which was heavier than regular armor. Xyn’s scales weren’t like forged armor. They were more pliable and stronger. And a lot stronger and more durable. “That you won’t be able to lift, akra.”
She arched her brow at his term of respect. “Oh?”
“Mmm.” He pulled it off, over his head, and held it out to her.
With a frown, she gripped the shoulder.
Urian only released a portion of the weight to her and yet it was enough to cause her to stumble forward.
“Oh dear gods!”
He grinned as he placed it carefully on the floor. “Told you.”
“How in the name of Archon do you walk about in this?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been wearing armor since I was a boy. I think nothing of it.” Besides, he adored Xyn’s armor. It reminded him of her and her care for him. He felt invincible in it.
When he moved for his greaves, she knelt down to unbuckle them. Grinding his teeth, Urian growled at the sensuous way she stroked and massaged his leg while she freed him from the scales and leather. Then she nipped his calf with her fangs, dragging her nails down the length of his well-muscled leg.
His head spun. Chills ran up and down his flesh as every nerve ending sprang to life in the wake of her caresses. He’d never felt like this. His powers sizzled and arced. It was as if lightning danced through his body. For the first time, his demon was quelled and quiet.
Tamed.
Urian reached out for the wall to steady himself while she slowly explored his body with her lips and tongue. He’d foolishly thought nothing could feel better than what she’d done to him the other night.
He was wrong.
Those thoughts vanished a moment later when she slid her lips over the tip of his cock.
“Oh dear gods,” he breathed.
She laughed, and that vibration shook him to the core of his entire being.
Closing his eyes, he quickly bit his palm so as not to embarrass himself again with her. The throbbing pain brought him back from the edge.
It also distracted Xanthia. As soon as the scent of his blood hit her, she lifted her head.
Urian hated to take her away from her current task, but he cupped her cheek so that she could lick and suckle the blood from his bleeding fingers. She swept her tongue over his flesh, heightening his pleasure all the more. Harder and harder, she sucked at his fingers.
Unable to stand it, he lifted her up and pinned her to the wall. She sank her teeth into his shoulder at the same time he entered her. They both cried out in ecstasy.
“That’s it!” Crying out in pleasure, she dug her nails deep into his back and yanked at his hair. “Harder, Urian! Bite me, now!”
He sank his fangs into her throat. She came with an ear-piercing scream that caused her to thrash in his arms. He growled deep in his throat as she thrust her hips against him ever harder, while her body shuddered in his arms.
And when he found his own release, he realized that he’d never again be able to go back to the stale blood his father had been bringing him.
Not after this.
For that matter, he’d never again judge his father for his numerous affairs where his mother was concerned. Now he understood why his father had sought Apollites and Daimons to feed on. There was no way any of their people could take stale blood given the way Apollo had meant for them to eat. This was primal and raw.
More than that, it was divine.
Yet even so, his brothers were another matter. Their wives were Apollites and could feed them. It was unforgivable that they would deprive their wives of this while they sought nourishment from another. How dare they betray a true heart. That was cruel beyond measure.
Urian would never understand why his father condoned their behavior. If he could have one person who’d cherish him like that …
He’d never break her heart. Never take for granted such kindness. Just as now. Grateful beyond measure to Xanthia for sharing her blood and body with him, Urian cradled her in his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Did you get enough to eat?”
She nodded. “You?”
“Aye … for now,” he teased.
Laughing, she kissed him. “I have a bath warming. Come and join me.”
Weak and at the same time stronger than he’d ever been before, Urian followed after her to a room in back.
He savored the sight of her crawling into the bath first before he joined her in the large bronze tub that glistened in the dim candlelight. The hot water sloshed over the sides as he slid in and sighed in contentment.
Completely sated for the first time in his life, he leaned back against the edge and allowed Xanthia to bathe him.
The one thing about Apollites and Daimons, they didn’t bleed after their feedings. Their saliva held a coagulating agent that instantly stopped and healed their wounds. Unless it was a really deep or major injury, they never had to worry about cuts.
She sat back in the gilded tub to stare at him with a perplexed frown. “Are you all right?”
Urian sighed heavily. “I fear I shall never be the same.”
“How do you mean?”