Elize craned her head to see her husband and placed a chaste kiss on him, grazing his lips with her fangs. His body tensed. "Please Caldy," she said. "Just for fifteen minutes." She still wanted to ease the extra adrenalin that was flowing inside her. Caleb's blood was like a drug, like a mixture of drugs that drove her.
Caleb pursed his lips. When she did that to him, it was impossible for him to deny her request. Not because he couldn't, but because his mind went blank, because when she grazed him with her fangs, he felt like she desired to be fed—an act that satisfied his wolf who would do anything for his mate. And of course, the deep dark hunger for her needed to be satiated at all times. "Okay," he grated, his neck muscles straining. Then he gave a death glare to Laurel to warn her.
Caleb handed his sword to Laurel with a piercing gaze. "She is tired. So better not act smart," he whispered to her.
