Shout out to the always lovely and wonderful HwaetWeGardena! This amazing person made a video moodboard tribute to Love Like Blood on TikTok. I'm completely overwhelmed by her love for this fic! Thank you SO SO SO much, Hwaet!


SEVENTEEN

Though her wand was at the ready, by the time she whirled to face the sound it was too late. A hand clamped around her wrist and she found herself propelled backward.

Colliding with the wall of one of the mausoleums, she honestly thought she heard a gruff, breathy apology amid her resulting daze. Giving her head a shake to get her bearings as she inhaled, replacing the air that had been knocked from her lungs, Hermione was completely aware of the creature's body pressed to hers, of his face looming just above her own.

Her gaze lifting to meet his, she blinked a few times, wondering if she'd hit her head during impact.

This was utterly impossible. ... The gentle way he'd touched her ...

Staring up into those crimson eyes, she thought her mind might break. ... The sweet, enticing sweep of his tongue ...

The sparse moonlight glinted off the points of his fangs peeking out from between his parted lips. ... The edge of his teeth so gentle as they scraped her skin ...

Why was she so very aware of the way the skin beneath those eyes tightened as their gazes held? ... His lips so delicate in how they brushed along her inner thigh ...

She forced a gulp down her throat and gave her head another shake, wondering how she was able to think around the feel of him so tight against her. ... So careful with her, she'd not even realized he'd bitten her ...

There were fine tremors running through him as he held her, his hand 'round her wrist shaking ever so slightly. ... The way he'd tenderly taken the blood from the wound, so very little blood, when he must've been ravenous ...

Hermione understood now the way he was looking at her, waiting for her to recognize him; that faint shaking a fight to control himself. This man who'd nearly killed her in the past, who had murdered her friend.

моя кошеня

How could he be this creature who stood before her now appearing so very helpless? It didn't seem real that this could be the same man.

At last that recognition he sought tumbled from her lips in a bewildered whisper. "... Dolohov?"