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Delta was gone for so many days, Anya didn’t even think twice about jumping straight into his lap when he returned. The feeling of his arms around her was far more important than propriety.
“You’re back!” She smiled wide, then remembered the worries that had been pooling in the pit of her stomach for the past week. “Why did it take you so long?
A set of familiar hands settled on her back, ghost-light in touch. “The Wraiths’ leader is slippery. I tried several different approaches to corner her.”
“Is…” Anya repeated, hoping she might’ve misheard what Delta said. When he didn’t correct her use of present tense, Anya felt the weight in her stomach return in full magnitude. “So she’s still around...”
Delta caressed the spot between her shoulder blades in a soothing gesture. “But no danger to you. Yelena is heavily incapacitated. It will take her several months to regenerate, I reckon. She has to rely on her thrall in the meantime. I will find them sooner and finish it.”
The clear-cut certainty in his voice dispelled Anya’s unease. He’d know what to do. Right now, what mattered was that he came back.
Anya smoothed over the angle of Delta’s jaw. Her fingers looked odd against it, like a single colourized object in an otherwise black and white photo. Delta’s complexion was always pale – pallid, some would say – but now it appeared even more devoid of colour. The translucent skin showed veins running underneath, dark from the ink-like blood that coursed through them. His throat bobbed each time he glanced at Anya’s neck.
She pressed her fingers against his jawbone, gripped by the realization. “You’re hungry."
“I’m fine.” Delta regarded her with a composed look, though his Adam’s apple moved up and down right as he swallowed.
As always, he wanted to play it down and deal with the problem on his own. Anya sighed as she nuzzled up to him. The prolonged hunt for the Wraiths must’ve drained all of the extra energy she had lent him prior. “You need to feed yourself soon. I’m right here. Let’s try the old-fashioned way,” she suggested playfully, hoping to ease the tension.
Delta motioned her away by the shoulders. “We’ve discussed this. When I asked if you were willing to donate your blood, I didn’t mean any method other than phlebotomy. I don’t wish to put you through unnecessary troubles for my own benefit.”
Anya met his piercing green eyes. They didn’t lose their sharpness, but the hue dimmed. She wouldn’t let them fade even a bit more, no matter how hard he tried to convince her otherwise.
“This will be quicker. I’m not squeamish about blood, you know.” A faint smile crept on Anya’s lips. She had been a nurse once and seen a fair share of bodily fluids. “Besides… it tastes better when it’s straight from the source, doesn’t it?”
One of Delta’s hands meandered across her clavicle to the base of her neck. “Indeed. Is that what you’re offering?”
Anya placed an ardent kiss on his lips, coaxing them to open wide. They shared a few kisses before he went away on the mission, too few for her liking, and each guided by Delta with deliberate movements so as not to involve his fangs. Now, such restraint would be an obstacle to her goal.
“Yes. Have a taste."
Her tongue glided over his teeth, and she felt them shift sooner than she expected. The bone extended, rapidly pressing into the softness of her tongue, so she drew away to see what it looked like.
There was something oddly familiar about it, the sharpened point and the clean white surface, like a piece of some cutting-edge medical equipment. It would have no problem drawing blood from the deepest veins.
Anya pressed her finger to the tip of the fang. It was so sharp, she didn’t feel anything when it punctured the skin, just saw a bead of blood form underneath the tooth’s edge. The maroon liquid trickled down the ivory length.
Delta’s pupils became a bottomless void, overshadowing the green. He pulled Anya’s hand away and shut his mouth with a snap.
“Stop,” he warned through gritted teeth.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s okay.” Anya extended her finger to show him it had already healed. The small puncture wound was nowhere to be seen, only a faint trail of blood remained. “You won’t harm me.”
She leaned forward and traced his bottom lip with the stained finger. His mouth parted under a slight touch, unwittingly, it seemed, because as soon as her finger made contact with the wet, sensitive part of his lip, Delta wrapped his hand around her wrist and gave it a hard warning squeeze.
“I could drain you,” he growled. “Drink and drink until I have my fill, and then drink more, to the very last drop.”
Hot breath enveloped her hand. The tip of Anya’s finger tingled, and she didn’t know if it was from the recently healed wound or the heated air colliding with the damp skin.
Anya drew closer. Their breaths mixed in the scant space between them.
“I’m deathless. You don’t have to worry. And… I don’t believe you would ever go that far.”
“Because you don’t know how delicious you are,” Delta murmured into her lips, then pulled her in for a deep kiss, one that stole the remnants of her breath. With his fangs now retracted, he bit Anya’s bottom lip, not nearly hard enough to break the skin, but enough to remind Anya he could very well do so if he pleased. “Even the blood drawn from your veins, sealed in glass, stripped of your warmth and smell, still tastes divine. Drinking it fresh would be pure bliss.” Delta tightened the grip around Anya’s wrist and locked his other arm around her waist. “Do you think you’d be able to stop me?”
“No.” She leaned into the strange embrace, sinking into him, into the thin line between life and death that had coiled around her. “But I won’t have to.”
“Anya…”
The hold on her wrist slackened, enough for Anya to move her hand and press it to the side of Delta’s neck. He had no real heartbeat, she learned that, but that didn’t mean he had no heart.
“I trust you.” She followed the length of the largest vein in his neck, now sunken from the lack of sustenance. “You need to feed yourself, and I want to help. Let me.”
Delta leaned against the backrest, seemingly resigned. He released Anya’s wrist and cupped her face.
“You’re impossible to deny, you know that?” There was a hint of mirth in his voice. “Come here then.”
Anya followed the invitation without delay, bending her neck to allow Delta the best access to her jugular. Even though the hunger in his dark eyes grew every second, he took time to carefully brush Anya’s hair away and adjust the collar of her shirt.
“My sweet Anastasiya,” Delta crooned, his mouth hovering over the side of her neck, just before kissing it – whether to mark the spot or distract her, she didn’t know.
Despite the mental preparation for what’s to come, Anya couldn’t keep down a gasp when his teeth sank into her flesh. A smooth, sharp pain cut through her skin, muscles and tendons with deadly precision, like a surgeon’s blade. She experienced much, much worse than this, but still, the piercing bite made her whimper.
Delta’s body tensed underneath hers, like an odd case of rigor mortis.
“Don’t stop,” Anya whispered, careful not to speak too loud with sharp teeth so close to her voice box. “Just drink.” She weaved her fingers into his hair to prevent him from pulling away.
Fortunately, Delta listened. He adjusted the position and sealed his mouth to Anya’s neck. The pain soon subsided. With the worst part done, she could focus on feeling other things – Delta’s hands wandering across her waist, the warmth of his lips radiating into her skin, or the slickness of his tongue lapping at her flesh.
Above all, she felt a strange delight from convincing Delta to do it. He needed sustenance, and she could offer it straight from the source.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, a few minutes or a few hours, when Delta pulled away with a groan of satisfaction.
“Thank you.” He kissed the spot on her neck again, a long, deep kiss to soothe the area.
“You’re welcome,” Anya murmured. A warm, fuzzy feeling bloomed from the point of contact to the rest of her body. She didn’t want to move.
Delta applied pressure to the wound using the base of his palm. His fingers hovered over the side of her collar, as if he didn’t want to disturb Anya by wrapping them around her neck. She leaned into the touch and placed her hand over his.
“Delta…”
She looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes, more tired than she expected. A hint of colour returned to Delta’s face, not just surface-level in the form of red droplets on his lips, but inside too – she could see it in the flushed cheeks and full veins. The blood she gave him was now coursing through his body. The effects were clear as day. It was worth the moment of pain and overwhelming exhaustion.
Delta altered the pressure on the wound to make sure he staunched the flow.
“Yes, my dear?” He cupped her cheek using his other hand.
Anya let her eyes close. What did she want to say? She wasn’t sure, the warm fog in her brain made it difficult to focus.
Her face gravitated towards his, seeking the cadence of his voice. Their foreheads touched, letting Anya rest and think a little clearer.
“I was right.” She grinned. “I didn’t have to stop you.”
Delta reciprocated with a devilish smirk. “You are impossible, Anastasiya.” He licked his lips with a deliberately long sweep of his tongue. “Impossible, I swear.”
“You enjoy it,” she teased, weaving her fingers through his hair.
“Of course. Even if you’ll be the death of me one day.”
Anya shook her head gently. “I won’t. I’m deathless, did you forget? And you’re mine, so death cannot claim you.”
Delta opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Anya captured his lips in a kiss. Faint metallic taste spilled across her tongue. She had tasted it before, more intense, a surge of blood coughed up from her own lungs. Delta once held her in his arms as life poured out of her. Then she came back. Death had no hold on her. Only one person had, and he’d never let go.
“I'm yours," Delta agreed softly. He pulled Anya closer to him, impossibly close. They were meant to be like this, no matter what the rest of the world thought. “Yours and yours alone.”