Laura Wright - Eternal Hunger

He released the man, and with a defeated sigh, the skinny human passed out and slid to the floor, his long body hitting against the wood with a dull thud.

Alexander went to the woman and dropped to one knee beside her. She breathed comfortably, but the red bruise on her pale cheek was already starting to darken and swell. Rage rippled through him like the aftershocks of an earthquake, and his hands and fangs trembled with the desire to tear into the flesh of the human passed out behind him.

The woman stirred again, her full lips moving, her brow coiled with tension. Her color was good, but she needed rest and a doctor. Until then, Alexander would offer her what comfort he could. In addition to new powers morpho provided, individual gifts were also given to each Pureblood paven . Alexander already understood his as well as he understood his own name. He brushed back the woman’s long, dark hair and placed two fingers on her temple, breathed calm into her blood, then watched as her body relaxed. When he believed her to be sleeping gently, he reached into the pocket of his coat for his cell phone. Dammit. It wasn’t there. He looked around the room, his gaze quicker than it had been only hours previously. Near the threshold leading into the kitchen, he spotted the cordless. He reached in its direction and muttered a terse, “Come . ” The phone shook against the ground, then flew across the room and into Alexander’s waiting hand. He stabbed at the numbers, then pressed the receiver to his ear.

“Alex?” Nicholas’s voice was laced with panic. “Where are you?”

“I need two cars at 340 West 11th, off Hudson. Garden apartment.”

“Why?” Nicholas demanded harshly.

“I have two unconscious humans and no protection.”

“No protection?” A stunned silence vibrated across the line. “What have you done?”

“Protection from the sun,” Alexander said angrily.

“What?”

“I’ve gone through morpho.” The words were bitter on Alexander’s tongue.

There was a pause. Then Nicholas uttered a curt “Impossible.”

Yes, Alexander mused, as the brands on his hands and face twitched with residual pain. “Get the hell over here. I need to find out what’s going on.”

Ten minutes later, Nicholas and Lucian walked through the door. Both standing well above six feet, both broad and lethal, they surveyed the one-room apartment and its contents with the same military vigilance they’d relied upon in battle more than a century ago.

“Damn,” Lucian said, his severe sand-colored gaze shifting from the man on the floor to the woman on the couch. “You did it.”

“Did what?” Alexander snapped, standing sentry beside the woman, monitoring her physical condition.

Lucian tossed the black cloak he’d brought with him, a makeshift sun shield for Alexander, over one arm of the couch. “Drained them both.”

“Bullshit,” Alexander growled. “The woman’s blood is untouched.”

“And the man?” Nicholas asked, walking over to Alexander, his stride heavy with predatory grace.

“In a coma, I believe,” Alexander said.

When Nicholas reached his eldest brother, his black gaze moved over Alexander’s face and forearms. “Have you seen yourself?”

“No,” Alexander said, his jaw tight.

“It’s not pretty.”

“Then not much has changed, has it?”

A quick grin touched Nicholas’s lips, showing off the tips of his fangs. It was gone in an instant. “You have the markings of our father.”

The circles branded into his cheeks screamed “I am descended from the Breeding Male.” Alexander nodded. “Yes.”

“And of your true mate,” Nicholas said, eyeing the key-shaped markings within the circles. “Is this good news or bad?”

Alexander sniffed. “You mean am I relieved that I don’t carry our father’s gene to screw and impregnate any female that crosses my path?” He heard Lucian snort with amusement behind him. “Yes.” He was glad of that, and had felt deep concern for the day he would morph and find out what future he had been given. But was this good news? Instead of a Breeding Male’s empty circle, he had the mark of a true mate inside of his, and his body, without his consent, would soon be on the hunt for her.

“Going through morpho explains the extreme hunger,” Nicholas said. “Is it gone now?”

“It is different,” Alexander said. “I have more control, but the blood I desire isn’t as random.”

Nicholas’s ink black brows drew together in concern. “What are you saying? You must be selective in the vein you choose? Not just any female will do?”

“The hunger remains, but it too has morphed into something I’m not exactly sure how to feed.” His nostrils flared. “Blood has become the appetizer ...”

“Not the main course,” Nicholas finished for him.

Alexander said nothing.

“Sounds great. Can we finish the question-and-answer portion of this game show later?” Lucian said, impatience registering in his tone. He looked at Alexander, arching one pale brow. “Are you going to tell us what went down in here?”

A growl began to build low in Alexander’s chest. “Take care not to push me today, Little Brother. I don’t feel so good.” He raised his chin and inhaled deeply, trying to rid himself of the unnecessary aggression surging through his blood. “Sun came up and I needed shelter.” Alexander looked at the woman, felt a deep tenderness roll through him. “She provided it. Without question.” His voice conveyed a hint of awe.

“What about the man?” Lucian asked.

“He was waiting for her. The little prick attacked her.” Alexander stared at the bruise on the woman’s face as she slept peacefully. A low snarl escaped his lips. “I should have drained him.”

“Good thing you didn’t,” Lucian uttered tightly. “That would’ve been another problem we don’t need.”

Sensing another round of morphed male hostility in the air, Nicholas asked a practical question. “What do you want to do with the man?”

Still hovering close to the woman, Alexander eyed his brother. “You take care of him, Nicholas.” He lifted one thick eyebrow. “Make sure he never comes back here. Make him forget that she even exists.”

Nicholas nodded quickly. “Done. And what about her?”

“I’ll take care of her,” Lucian offered with a wicked grin.

“No!” Alexander snarled, his upper lip lifting, exposing his fangs. “No one touches her.”

“You sure the hunger’s eased, Alex?” Lucian said, his grin widening. “You’re acting like an animal over a feed. Perhaps she has the vein you desire?”

Nostrils flared, Alexander stared at Lucian, ready to strike with either words or fists.

“Easy there, boys,” Nicholas said dryly, stepping between the two. He eyeballed Alexander and said in a low voice, “ Duro .”

The tender word for “brother” barely registered with Alexander. Blood was rushing in his ears as he tried to keep himself under control. This was not the debilitating pangs of hunger; this was something altogether different—a barely restrained ferocity when it came to the woman who’d saved him. Jesus, how could he even think about striking his brother? The brother he’d protected and cared for, for more than a century?

Nicholas broke through his thoughts. “We need to act swiftly, Alexander. Where do you want to take her?”

“Home.”

“Isn’t this her apartment?”

“ Our home,” Alexander clarified. He knew the decision wasn’t a wise one, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Nicholas and Lucian stared at him for a good thirty seconds. Finally Lucian shook his head and muttered, “You’ve got to be kidding.”