Page 103 of Dhampira

Lorcan grunted. But he came up spitting and furious. “Vraka,” he gritted.

Vander winced, a cry escaping him. His nostrils flared as he wrestled one of Lorcan’s arms behind his back. “That was a mistake,” he grated. Struggling to capture Lorcan’s other wrist, Vander shot me a wild look.

“Get close to me!”

I didn’t want to be anywhere near Lorcan. But Vander was barely holding on, and pain glazed his eyes. Whatever vor Lorcan used must have stung.

Gathering my skirts, I hopped over the witch’s body.

“Grab my arm,” Vander said. The second I obeyed, he muttered, “Mesu.”

The Everless appeared. The dead witch remained at our feet.

“You brought him with us?” I asked, a combination of disgust and curiosity gripping me.

“He was inside my ward,” Vander said, wrestling Lorcan to the grass. “And we were still close enough to the doorway to enter.”

Ruvien had said something about a doorway, too. But the elf’s words fled my mind as Vander and Lorcan fell to the ground in a snarling heap.

They rolled across the grass, fists flying, their growls and the snap of Lorcan’s fangs filling the ruins. Finally, Vander pinned Lorcan underneath him.

“Vraka,” Lorcan spat, his eyes like oil.

Vander shuddered and nearly lost his grip. Lorcan bucked beneath him, his fangs grazing Vander’s cheek. Vander was losing control.

I rushed forward. “How can I help?”

“Hold him!” Vander barked.

“What?” I hadn’t thought through my offer. “How?”

“I don’t fucking know! Just get his hands!”

My heart pounding, I circled the men and collapsed on my knees above Lorcan’s head. He twisted, snapping at my thigh.

“Stop that!” I yelled, jerking out of reach. When he grabbed at me, I seized his flailing hand and dug my thumb into the tendons inside his wrist, the same as he’d done to me the day I drained the merman.

Lorcan hissed.

Baring long fangs, Vander plunged his face to Lorcan’s throat. Lorcan jolted underneath him. For one shivering second, he fought. Then he went still. A heartbeat later, he groaned.

The air shifted. Lorcan’s lips parted on a long, masculine moan. His lashes fluttered, dusting his cheeks.

Vander settled on top of him with his hips wedged between Lorcan’s thighs.

My mouth went dry, and a dozen forbidden fantasies spun through my head. But this wasn’t a fantasy. It was real—and it was happening in my lap.

Lorcan stirred, tossing his head against my skirts. His hair had come unbound during the struggle, and the chocolate strands spread over the silk.

“Oh…gods,” he groaned, his voice breaking at the end. He rolled his hips against Vander. “Fuck…Fuck me.”

Vander lifted his head. Meeting my gaze briefly, he licked the puncture wounds on Lorcan’s neck.

Lorcan went rigid, a hoarse cry ripping from his throat. He surged his hips up, lifting Vander as he clawed at my skirts and grabbed hold. “You have to,” he breathed, his eyes squeezed shut. “You have to, you have to.”

My breath hitched, heat building under my skin. Memories of my own arousal assailed me—the runaway ache, the insatiable need. The pain of being unfulfilled.

“Do it,” I said through a dry throat. When Vander met my eyes again, his irises were like stars, little filaments of silver radiating from his pupils.