Iseul shifted an arm from around Damian’s shoulders to trace his fingers over the curve his cheek. The touch was so light and reverent, as if the Fae couldn’t believe he was actually real, actually holding him.

“Ah,” he sighed out. “If only you could subsist on me and only me.” Iseul was sure it wasn’t possible. At least, not without causing great harm to himself. They would have to settle for little sips here and there. It surprised him just how pleasurable Damian’s bite was: the slight prick of pain followed by a heady sort of delight that made him feel high.