She swallowed hard, her stomach rebelling. “I can’t, Gregori. He’s dead. I just can’t.”
“You mean I killed him.” He said the words softly.
“No, I know he was a threat to our people. I know he tried to kill you. I know there was no choice. But I can’t.” She tried to wiggle away from him. She suddenly wanted her clothes on, self-conscious of her nakedness.
“You will feed,” he said again. This time his voice was a whisper of sound, so compelling, so hypnotic, she found herself leaning close to him. She could feel the heat from his body, feel the warmth of his breath. Feed, Savannah. Come to me now. He dragged her closer to him and pressed her against his chest. “I am your lifemate. I can do no other than to see to your needs.”
Savannah could taste him, the salt from his skin. His hunger, her hunger—she couldn’t tell where one left off and the other began. He was whispering in her mind, words impossible to understand, the music of them echoing through her body. His grip was impossible to break, the hand on her nape pressing her to him. There was no escaping his iron will. She didn’t even want to, her mouth already moving over his skin.
Gregori closed his eyes as her teeth pierced deeply. The pleasure-pain was sensuous, her bare body irresistible, but he clamped down on his insatiable hunger. He had already been selfish, taking her on the tile floor, impatient and needing her in the midst of his own uncertainty. Now he cradled her head to him, feeding her until her pale skin was once more glowing and healthy. Then slowly, reluctantly, he allowed her to escape the compulsion.
Her blue eyes blinked, awareness suddenly in their depths. She pulled away abruptly, rolling away from him to scramble for her clothes. “You really are scum, Gregori. You have no right to force me when I’ve said no.”
He watched her look around for her tattered clothes. She sank back down on the bed with a tired sigh. “I seem to have no clothes again.”
“Easily fixed, Savannah,” he said softly. Fashioning clothes from air and the elements was as old as time, as easy as anything he had ever done. She looked so upset, he wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her, comfort her. She was still disturbed that he had willingly ingested poison. That he had broken their laws by killing while feeding. But mostly she was upset that he had forced her to wait for him while he ventured into danger instead of allowing her to help him. And she was distressed that he had forced her to feed under compulsion.
Gregori handed her soft jeans and a cotton shirt, his silver eyes watching her closely. “I am what I have been shaped to be over these endless centuries, Savannah,” he said carefully.
She pushed wearily at her hair. Everything was happening so fast. Her world changing, turning upside down, unfamiliar and out of her control. Peter. The vampire. The human hunter. The poison. Being imprisoned by her own lifemate. She bit her lower lip in agitation, holding up the shirt to cover her breasts. “You can choose to be different, Gregori. Anyone can.”
He touched her mind, a slight brush, and knew she was close to tears. He cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. “I do not choose to allow you to place your life in danger, mon amour. That is not something that will ever change.”
“But I’m to live with you placing yourself in danger,” she countered, her blue eyes flashing at him.
His white teeth gleamed, a predatory smirk. “I was never in danger. Wade Carter thought he was protected, but Carpathian children have stronger barriers against predators.”
“The point is, you couldn’t know that, Gregori. You went out there and let him shoot you with that dart gun without even knowing what it was. And you made sure I couldn’t help you.”
He took the shirt out of her hands and slipped it over her head. “I was never in danger, Savannah.” He said it quietly, patiently, his voice black velvet.