…He lifted her up, one hand under her head, her throat exposed to him. The marks that shouldn’t have been there made him angry. How dare Lazarus touch her? How dare anyone.
He found her hand with his and her fingers twisted around him. Jonas lowered his head, smelling her directly off her skin. He felt his way down her throat carefully with his fangs until he found the place Lazarus had marked her, his fangs catching on the scabs. He felt an unexpected surge of possession and tried to fight it off before she felt it too.
Her fingers tightened in his. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “You’re all right, Jonas.”
When she said his name he pierced her flesh with a groan. He’d been suppressing his need for her more than he’d thought. He dug a little more deeply, not meaning to, but as if his body wouldn’t accept anything short of having her fully.
Darcy Branwyn 
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