Gates of Rapture (Guardians of Ascension #6)(27)
Author: Caris Roane

He said as much to Grace then sent, She took me under her wing when you left. He shared with her their camaraderie and that he considered Brynna his best friend.

The loudspeakers blared as the introductions were made for all the contestants, including a fiery Aussie from the hidden Brisbane One Colony and a Japanese competitor from the hidden colony outside Kyoto One.

As the warriors took up their places, he realized Grace had grown very still next to him. He looked at her, but her head was bent. She held her hands together on her lap, which was a little awkward since her right arm was still wrapped around his.

What is it, Grace?

She shook her head. This is ridiculous. I feel so … angry, but I shouldn’t. I left you, and she obviously took care of you.

She was upset about his relationship with Brynna? Jealous? He tried not to smile but he couldn’t help it. And damn, wasn’t he a bastard for liking it.

He tried to explain Brynna’s value to him. She made sure that I didn’t hurt anyone when I turned beast. She would come into the basement with me.

At that Grace looked up at him, her eyes wide and her expression hard. The starting pistol fired at the exact same moment that she said aloud, “She did what?” The last word held resonance, which brought a sort of yelp from Fiona behind him.

Jean-Pierre leaned around Leto and said, “I am sorry, Grace, but Fiona’s ears are sensitive to resonance. If you would go easy with it?”

Grace nodded. “Of course. Sorry.”

When Jean-Pierre shifted back, Leto stared down at her and again his response was way too male. His eyelids felt heavy as he slid his hands down her arms. “So you’re thinking about the basement, huh?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, I know what you meant. You’re jealous of Brynna, but I love that you’re jealous. I just wish I could get you back there right now, take some of the sting out of the situation.”

When the crowd started shouting, only then did he slide his gaze back to the event, seeking out the nearest screen. Brynna was neck and neck with the Aussie.

He rose from the bench and started cheering her on, punching his fist in the air. Marguerite knew Brynna well, so she joined in. Thorne, too.

* * *

Grace remained seated and frozen in place. She held her arms tight around her chest. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t this woman, but she could feel her fangs in her mouth and a rumbling in her throat. Her legs shook. She felt a profound need to sink her fangs just about anywhere into Leto, to mark him and to let him know that what he was doing was wrong.

She had a rational mind somewhere, but for this moment all she could think was that his focus was on another woman, that he had a great deal of affection for this other woman, and that Grace couldn’t stand it.

She had to leave. She feared what she would start doing if she stayed. And, yes, it involved her fangs, and more resonance in her voice than Fiona could tolerate, and maybe word choices that would more comfortably come out of Endelle’s mouth than her own.

When the cheers became shouts of triumph because Brynna won her event, Grace raced from the box and down the stairs, half levitating the entire distance. She would have folded, but the rules for the event forbade dematerializing of any kind.

She ran past the grandstands, pushed her way through the crowds, and increased her speed, which was significant. She ran straight into the forest. She ran and ran, her mind screaming the whole time, and her fangs protruding unladylike from her mouth.

She could vaguely discern someone running behind her, but her mind was a whirl of angry mush, so she kept pushing on, heading in the direction of Leto’s cabin, pushing past fir branches, hopping over big stumps and logs, flying over shrubs and ferns.

Suddenly powerful arms clamped around her and carefully brought all her forward momentum to a stop.

“Grace, what the f**k?” Leto was breathing hard as he turned her in his arms.

She didn’t want him to see her like this. She struggled against him, but he was bigger and more powerful so he caught her wrists and held them wide.

Forced to stop fighting, she panted against him, glaring at him from underneath her brows. She could feel her fangs heavy on her lips. His gaze slid to her fangs, and he drew in a sharp hiss.

“Shit,” he murmured. His cadroen had come out, and his long black hair hung around his shoulders, over his arms and chest. He released one wrist; she squirmed trying to wrench herself from his grasp but he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled his hair over to one side. When she caught sight of his exposed throat and the vein throbbing there, beckoning to her, she grew very still.

She truly hated that this was who she was in this moment, but Leto didn’t seem to mind. He caught her around the waist and pulled her close. He even lifted her up off her feet so that her mouth was at his chin level. He leaned into her slightly and whispered, “Do it. Take what you need.”

Maybe it was his use of resonance when he spoke, she wasn’t sure, but she leaned back, planted her hands on his shoulders, and drove her fangs hard into the vein waiting for her. She began to suck on his neck, deep pulls, taking his blood into her mouth and down her throat.

He held her in place, her legs dangling as she worked his throat. He adjusted slightly to hold her with one arm around her waist. With his free hand he glided down her back, slipped beneath the low waistband of her skirt, and when his fingers found flesh—because she wore only a thong—he groaned and pressed her against him.

She slowed her drinking, because what she needed now shifted. He was a hard length against her abdomen. With his blood in her belly and firing her veins, desire streaked through her body, pinching at her br**sts, teasing between her legs.

She needed Leto and she needed him now.

* * *

Leto had never experienced anything like this in his long vampire life. The last thing he’d expected was for Grace to become so jealous that she’d actually had to leave the games. But as soon as he saw her fangs, he’d understood that she was completely and beautifully out of control.

So here he was, having her draw on his neck. Though her deep pulls had slowed and it was clear her original ferocity was dialing down, everything about this moment was so at odds with the sweet, reverential woman he’d always known Grace to be.

The truth was, he loved it, and the beast in him was yelling at him to finish this the way he needed it finished.

At last, Grace removed her fangs and pulled back enough to meet his gaze. Her gold-green eyes glinted in the dark forest night. She had run far enough away from the games that silence surrounded them. He was alone with her.