His Cure

Ash's eyes flared as he lifted his head from the pillow. His nostrils widened as the drops of my blood slowly flew from the cut on my hand. I lied about not being scared—I was terrified because I knew that I would not stop him no matter how much of my blood he wanted to drink. I knew that he needed it to heal.

His fangs flashed and grazed my flesh as I lowered my hand. I braced myself, knowing that this time his bite could be different. This time his instincts would lead him, and they would tell him to do what he should do to recover. He neither would be gentle nor care about me. I knew that. I accepted that.

"Nala," he rasped before licking the blood from the cut. His whole body shuddered, the chains on his arms and chest rattling. The way he lay there, resembling a wild animal with nothing but a pair of sweatpants on, tightened my chest. I closed my eyes, and then I felt it. His fangs pierced my skin, sinking deeply into my flesh. A shuddered breath escaped me as the pain radiated t