Bloodlust

Get Marked?

— VENICE —

My eyes tracked Macay's frantic movements as he dashed around the bedroom. I offered to help but was met with silence. He was stressed and I understood, so I decided it was best to just stay out of his way.

I realized he had moved to my side of the dresser and began plucking out pants and underwear. A node of discomfort crawled up my throat.

"I'm coming with you?" I asked quietly.

"Yes," he said.

Rarely did he sound impatient, especially with me, but his voice and body language oozed exasperation and distress.

"I should have gone to her sooner," he muttered in such a low, deep tone that I barely heard. "I could tell something was wrong at the ball. She smelled off somehow."

I frowned.

"I assumed it was just her cancer, and there's nothing more I can do for that," he went on. "Still . . . I should have known."

"Macay, you can't blame yourself for this. There's no way you could have prevented this. The ball was weeks ago."

He said nothing and continued shoving my clothes into the bag with his. I got off the bed and walked over to him.

I'd never offered him anything physical, but he looked shattered. I knew he probably needed a hug, too.

As I wrapped my arms around him from behind, he relaxed. His body heaved with a sigh. He turned around to face me and my arms retracted, my gaze flitting up to his.

Macay gently grabbed my arms to gather me against his hard chest. I squeezed him back.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

His body trembled for a moment and then I felt myself being pulled downward. I grabbed onto him in a panic before realizing we were sitting on the bed, my lap in his.

The position was ruthlessly intimate and I looked away before he could notice the force of my blush.

"You don't have a damn thing to apologize for," he murmured.

I said nothing until he brought my chin up. Our eyes collided again, a slippery warmth budding in my stomach.

"I don't know how I would be handling this without you here."

Smiling a little, I placed my hands on his shoulders. The muscles rippled under his shirt. I took a deep breath to muster some control.

"You're going to be okay," I assured him. "Without or without me. We need to get to get going, hm?"

His face fell. He slid his hands around my jaw and lowered his face dangerously close to mine. I sucked in a breath and pushed slightly back slightly his chest.

"I don't want to do it without you," he said. "Let me make you mine, Venice. I can mark you now before we go. I'll make it quick."

"No. You're not thinking straight," I said. I managed to put some space between us and his grip loosened. "Now isn't the time."

A knock at the bedroom door interrupted us. I took the chance to slide off his lap to answer the door.

Brita's eyes were cold and flat as they appraised me. "Time to go," she said.

I nodded and turned back to Macay, who still sat on the edge of the mattress. He didn't acknowledge his sister.

"Can you get Julio?" I asked Brita.

She nodded and walked off. I returned to Macay and crouched down in front of him. His eyes lifted slowly to mine.

"I'll finish packing," I told him. "Why don't you talk to Julio about what he needs to do while we're gone?"