A dangerous passion...
Wrath walked into the hall, feeling particularly ferocious. Man, Beth had better be alive and well. Or God help whoever had hurt her.
And if she'd decided to avoid him? That didn't matter. Her body was about to need something only he could provide her. So sooner or later she would come around. Or she would die.
He thought of the soft skin of her neck. Felt the sensation of his tongue stroking over the vein that ran up from her heart.
His fangs elongated as if she were before him. As if he could sink his teeth into her and drink.
Wrath closed his eyes as his body began to shake. His stomach, full with food, turned into a bottomless, achy pit.
He tried to remember the last time he'd fed. It has been a while, but surely not that long ago?
He forced himself to calm down. Get control. It was like trying to slow down a train with a hand brake, but eventually a cooling stream of sanity replaced the whacked-out, blood-lust spins.
As he came back to reality he felt uneasy, his instincts crying out for airtime.
That female was dangerous to him. If she could affect him like this without even being in the damn room, she might just be his pyrocant...