Chapter 6
Blood had never been his vice.
Some of his brothers got off on mock claimings. They said it helped them feel connected, reminded them of what they were striving to find. He had never been one to get off on a deep bite, because in his head, that was reserved for his mate. Only she deserved that—his cherry-popping bite. Which, admittedly, looked as if it could have done with him practicing beforehand. It was wonky, marring her satiny throat with a bright red and purple bruise adding to its gory nature.
With humans, if a hickey went a little deeper than it should, no one was any the wiser. The spit in a Shifter’s bite healed most wounds on a human, so if the hickey was on a person not made expressly for them, a mortal lover merely had a deeper than usual bruise on their throat. B
