It could have been the span of a single heartbeat.
I don’t know how long we’ve been like this, me held in thrall to this devastating creature. My resistance has melted. My thoughts are a panicked, heated mess.
I keep waiting…
For what?
Pain.
Death.
My end.
But it never comes.
And then, at long last, he stops.
My breath catches as he runs his tongue over the tiny punctures he’s made in my skin. All of a sudden, his mouth becomes shockingly gentle.
It doesn’t hurt.
It doesn’t hurt at all.
He breaks away, and for a single inexplicable moment, I find myself lamenting the loss of his mouth’s warm caress.
Are you mad, Finley Solisar?
He lifts his head, and his lips are stained crimson with my blood.
For the very first time, I see his face.
Of course.
Does it even surprise me that he’s excruciatingly handsome?
His dark brows are drawn together, crimson eyes fixed upon me, his gaze so intense I feel like he can reach into my soul and take whatever he wants.
He has high cheekbones and a strong nose with a slight bend in the bridge—as if it’s been broken and set at some point in his unholy life. He has a chiseled jawline and a cleft chin. His cheeks are ever so slightly hollowed.
His lips are sensual softness; the only thing about him that’s remotely soft, even though they’re painted with my blood.
His tongue darts out and he licks his lips clean. I catch a glimpse of sharp fangs.
He is most definitely not human.
My heart remembers to beat again, hammering so hard and fast it’s almost painful.
The red glow in his eyes has faded. Now, they’re a deep, dark crimson—one could almost mistake them for reddish-brown. If not for the unnatural hue of his irises and the marble-like quality of his skin, I might almost think he looked human.
He blinks, shaking his head ever so slightly. He whispers something under his breath.
It sounds like suspiciously like a curse.
His gaze is wide. Filled with heat and surprise. Not cold. For a moment, he seems almost as shocked as I am.
This isn’t the look of a man that wants to kill me.
I draw upon all my willpower to try and shake off the madness of what I just experienced. I force myself to resist the magnetic force of his aura. I don’t care if he’s a demon or a spirit or a powerful mage.
I won’t give in to his depraved desires.
And yet…
He didn’t kill me.
And everything depends on what I do right now.
Don’t panic. Whatever you do…
Do. Not. Panic.
Part of me wants to scream. I want to let my fear loose; to twist and writhe and fight, to show him how distraught I am.
How dare you devour me like that?
How dare you enjoy it?
The last one goes for him and me, both.
But instead of fighting him, I remain very, very still.
I look up, searching his elegant features, catching the last of the softness in his expression before his face becomes an inscrutable mask.
Who are you?
I don’t dare ask that question.
There are more pressing matters to deal with.
“Please.” My voice comes out as a cracked whisper. “Help me. I’ll give you…”
Anything.
If you still thirst for my blood, you can have it again. Just save my brother.
His brows draw together. His eyes narrow.
My heart catches.
Have I offended him?
“What do you need?” When he finally speaks, his voice is deep and smooth and resonant, the timbre a perfect complement to his decadent looks.
I have never encountered anyone so dangerous and yet so damn beautiful in my entire life.
“There are three young lads. One of them is badly wounded. Stabbed with a sword. He needs a healer. I was on my way to Tyron Castle, to request assistance from…” The words catch in my throat. Do I tell him that I’m Corvan Duthriss’s betrothed? Would that information help me, or put me in danger?
I decide to keep silent on that matter, for now.
“Archduke Duthriss?” The stranger’s lips curve ever so slightly. There is a hint of irony in his voice.
Does he find this amusing?
Irritation courses through me. “He is the lord of this land, is he not? He is honor-bound to provide assistance to travelers in distress.”
“That is true.” His expression is strange. I don’t entirely like it. “Where are they?”
I open my mouth, then close it again. Doubt swirls in my chest. Is it right that I reveal to this stranger—this powerful, dangerous being—the location of my brothers and their friend?
What if he devours them, too?
But I’m desperate, and without the horse, I can’t possibly reach the castle in time.
This savage stranger is my only hope.
“I won’t harm him,” he says, as if reading my mind. “You have my word.”
Gently, the pale man releases me from his arms. I sway on my feet and immediately stumble backwards, recoiling from him.
He waits; silently, patiently, giving me time to gather my composure.
“What does your word count for in this place?” I demand.
“I’d like to think it counts for something.” He puts his hand to his chest and offers me a look of perfect sincerity. “I can assure you it counts for something. I will not hurt your man, my lady. If he is severely wounded, as you say, then time is of the essence, especially in this weather.”
My lady? I frown. How does he know to address me so? From the way he speaks—with his educated accent and natural authority—he could easily be nobility from the capital, but I don’t know any nobles with pure white hair and crimson eyes and a thirst for human blood.
Can I trust him?
Definitely not, but what choice do I have?
“How do I know you won’t drink from them… the way you did with me?”
“I have no need for that.” His gaze drops to my neck, where he bit me, making me feel terribly exposed. “I’m satiated now.”
“I don’t recall giving you permission to bite me,” I blurt, indignation erasing any semblance of caution.
“Did I kill you?” His voice is soft, alluring, dangerous; laced with a hint of amusement.
“No,” I exhale. Although you nearly made my heart stop, you damn bastard.
“I’m the only one that can help you right now. Tell me where the lads are, my lady.” Somehow, he’s become terrifyingly persuasive. There’s an earnestness in his crimson gaze that makes me want to throw caution to the wind and trust him completely.
Silently, imperceptibly, I shudder.
This creature is dangerous.
But what choice do I have? With all the time that has passed, if I keep quiet and do nothing, Aderick will die.
I take a deep, shuddering breath and try to forget that I’m in the company of a monster.
“It’s about five leagues that way,” I say softly, “if you follow the road. But you’ll need a horse, otherwise it will be too late.” Already, I’ve wasted far too much time. I don’t know how much longer Aderick can survive. “Surely the castle is not far from here. Please, if you would just help me get to—”
The pale stranger holds up a hand. “No need. I am faster. If you will permit me, my lady.”