Logan. Lucius returned to the chair and
pulled the sleeve of his sweater down. The Blood Lust need had dissipated to
the point of almost non-existence.
“Let me explain
what happened. I did not think of you when you drank from me.”
Marcus nodded. “I
wasn’t thinking of you either.”
“That is certainly
a relief. When someone drinks your blood it is akin to a sexual climax, but not
quite. There is no release physically. I will tell you from experience that, to
drink and fuck at the same time, there is no comparison. There you do have a
physical release, and oh, Christ...” Lucius closed his eyes, and Marcus assumed
he thought of his mate. Marcus cleared his throat, and Lucius’s eyes snapped
open.
“Forgive me for
sharing your sensations. I could not resist. Being a Quarter I have not
experienced the Blood Lust at such a high level. I was curious.” He stood.
“Now, I must return to Trevina, as you see.”
Marcus’s gaze
slid to the prominent bulge in Lucius’s jeans.
“We have a bond,
Marcus, and not because I let you drink from me. Deegan made you, his blood flows
through both our veins. We are brothers.” He clasped Marcus’s forearm tightly.
A wave of sentiment roared through Marcus, and he clasped Lucius’s forearm in
return.
“Blood Brothers,”
Marcus agreed.
Lucius nodded,
gave his arm one last squeeze, and then let go. “We are that. Rest now. You
should be able to relax for at least thirty-six hours. Take care, brother.”
Lucius left the
room, and as Marcus heard his heavy tread descend the stairs, his throat closed
over in emotion. In just a few short days he felt more welcome, more part of a
family than he ever did with his Pack.
Chapter Eight
Logan sat in her
room stunned and in shock. What did she just witness? Marcus drinking from
Deegan’s grandson and masturbating as he did so! And Lucius intimately touching
Marcus—well, with his forehead. The contact seemed very private and personal.
Didn’t Lucius
arrive with a mate? Of course, she heard the stories of Deegan’s debauched
grandson and the swath he cut across the genders for his sexual pleasures. He
also abused drugs and alcohol, if memory served. Tristan and Deegan had been
very concerned about the path Lucius traveled on. The updates they’d received
from Wolfram Vladimirov on Lucius’s doings in the U.K. were cause for concern.
Somehow, the lad turned his life around when he fell in love. So why this
interlude with Marcus?
Logan stood and
marched down the hall toward Marcus’s bedroom. Pushing the door open, she
stepped inside. He sat on the bed staring out the window like nothing had
happened. Marcus looked more at peace than she had seen since meeting him a
week ago. Logan slammed the door and walked to the bed. Oh, blessed sea mother,
his face. She had taken the bandages off yesterday, and the mass of damaged
tissue on the right side of his face was heartbreaking to observe.
“What do you
want, Logan?”
She didn’t care
for his tone, and it angered her further.
“I thought
perhaps you would like company. Shall I read to you? Surely you have a
Spiderman comic lying around or whatever young lads read now.”
Marcus’s eye
narrowed, and his lips curled into a sneer. “A comic? Why not Stephen Hawking’s A Brief
History of Time ? Never mind, I’ve already read it. I’m not a wide-eyed,
mischievous boy you have to keep entertained.”
Logan heard a
wistful regret underneath the snarl in his voice.
“No one has ever
read you a bedtime story, have they?” she said.
“Who cares? What
story would they read to me, Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf? No thanks.”
Logan moved
closer. “You were never allowed to be a child, were you, Marcus?”
“What do you
care, Logan? I suppose the next thing you’ll say is for me to suck it up.”
Logan frowned.
More slang, no doubt. A modern Vampire term, perhaps? Then it dawned on her
what the phrase meant.
“Yes, accept your
fate, suck it up and grow
pulled the sleeve of his sweater down. The Blood Lust need had dissipated to
the point of almost non-existence.
“Let me explain
what happened. I did not think of you when you drank from me.”
Marcus nodded. “I
wasn’t thinking of you either.”
“That is certainly
a relief. When someone drinks your blood it is akin to a sexual climax, but not
quite. There is no release physically. I will tell you from experience that, to
drink and fuck at the same time, there is no comparison. There you do have a
physical release, and oh, Christ...” Lucius closed his eyes, and Marcus assumed
he thought of his mate. Marcus cleared his throat, and Lucius’s eyes snapped
open.
“Forgive me for
sharing your sensations. I could not resist. Being a Quarter I have not
experienced the Blood Lust at such a high level. I was curious.” He stood.
“Now, I must return to Trevina, as you see.”
Marcus’s gaze
slid to the prominent bulge in Lucius’s jeans.
“We have a bond,
Marcus, and not because I let you drink from me. Deegan made you, his blood flows
through both our veins. We are brothers.” He clasped Marcus’s forearm tightly.
A wave of sentiment roared through Marcus, and he clasped Lucius’s forearm in
return.
“Blood Brothers,”
Marcus agreed.
Lucius nodded,
gave his arm one last squeeze, and then let go. “We are that. Rest now. You
should be able to relax for at least thirty-six hours. Take care, brother.”
Lucius left the
room, and as Marcus heard his heavy tread descend the stairs, his throat closed
over in emotion. In just a few short days he felt more welcome, more part of a
family than he ever did with his Pack.
Chapter Eight
Logan sat in her
room stunned and in shock. What did she just witness? Marcus drinking from
Deegan’s grandson and masturbating as he did so! And Lucius intimately touching
Marcus—well, with his forehead. The contact seemed very private and personal.
Didn’t Lucius
arrive with a mate? Of course, she heard the stories of Deegan’s debauched
grandson and the swath he cut across the genders for his sexual pleasures. He
also abused drugs and alcohol, if memory served. Tristan and Deegan had been
very concerned about the path Lucius traveled on. The updates they’d received
from Wolfram Vladimirov on Lucius’s doings in the U.K. were cause for concern.
Somehow, the lad turned his life around when he fell in love. So why this
interlude with Marcus?
Logan stood and
marched down the hall toward Marcus’s bedroom. Pushing the door open, she
stepped inside. He sat on the bed staring out the window like nothing had
happened. Marcus looked more at peace than she had seen since meeting him a
week ago. Logan slammed the door and walked to the bed. Oh, blessed sea mother,
his face. She had taken the bandages off yesterday, and the mass of damaged
tissue on the right side of his face was heartbreaking to observe.
“What do you
want, Logan?”
She didn’t care
for his tone, and it angered her further.
“I thought
perhaps you would like company. Shall I read to you? Surely you have a
Spiderman comic lying around or whatever young lads read now.”
Marcus’s eye
narrowed, and his lips curled into a sneer. “A comic? Why not Stephen Hawking’s A Brief
History of Time ? Never mind, I’ve already read it. I’m not a wide-eyed,
mischievous boy you have to keep entertained.”
Logan heard a
wistful regret underneath the snarl in his voice.
“No one has ever
read you a bedtime story, have they?” she said.
“Who cares? What
story would they read to me, Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf? No thanks.”
Logan moved
closer. “You were never allowed to be a child, were you, Marcus?”
“What do you
care, Logan? I suppose the next thing you’ll say is for me to suck it up.”
Logan frowned.
More slang, no doubt. A modern Vampire term, perhaps? Then it dawned on her
what the phrase meant.
“Yes, accept your
fate, suck it up and grow
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