In spite of the chill, he’s wearing only a thin white shirt, tucked into a pair of finely tailored deep grey trousers that accentuate the taut perfection of his ass and his long, muscular legs.
His long hair swirls around his shoulders, and the effect on me is mesmerizing.
Seven Furies help me, but I can’t stop staring.
We pass through an arched gateway and take a sharp left turn, disappearing from the view of the men back there.
Suddenly, I feel terribly alone. Vulnerable.
He could do anything to me right now.
And he does.
He turns around, moving so fast I see only a blur of white and shadow and piercing red. He doesn’t care that he moves like a spirit; like the winter wind and the fury of a silent blizzard. He cuts through time itself, and I, a mere mortal, can’t do a thing against him.
It’s so fucking unfair.
I’m in his arms again.
And we fly.
17
FINLEY
Does he do this because he knows it will shock me, or is he truly unaware of how destabilizing it is to be swept up into a monster’s arms and carried away into a vast and unfamiliar stone castle?
How can I even fathom the thoughts and logic of someone who isn’t human?
He shoots up flights of stairs as if they were nothing. We navigate a maze of stone corridors at terrifying speed, passing a shocked onlooker—a soldier or servant, I can’t quite be sure, because as soon as I catch sight of the hapless soul, we’re gone.
We pass frosted windows and heavy wooden doors. I catch glimpses of opulence amidst the stark walls and cavernous ceilings. A stunning tapestry of a forest in autumn, threaded with gilt. A series of menacing monster-heads, taxidermied and turned into trophies on the wall. Fine rugs on the floors, intricately woven; shades of cream and grey laced with vibrant flourishes of red, green, and blue.
I’ve never seen anything like it before.
And yet, none of it matters.
I’m completely helpless in this powerful creature’s arms, and we’re entering another doorway now, passing through an antechamber into yet another room, and it’s warm in here, and it smells of wood and smoke and leather.
All of a sudden, I’m being set down on my feet, and he takes a sharp step back from me, recoiling as if I’m covered in a noxious substance.
Or as if I’m the poison itself.
Instinctively, I wrap my arms around myself, thankful for the thick, dependable coat that keeps me warm. I wish I had a suit of impenetrable armor, to keep me safe from this man.
But there’s nothing that can come between us right now.
All I have left are my wits and my tongue… and the fact that I’m not dead yet.
Calm down. If he wanted to harm you, he would have done so already. It’s obvious that he wants only one thing from you.
I remember what he did to me.
His sharp fangs, sinking into my skin. The exquisite pain. And the rush of warmth that came afterwards…
Oh, my Goddess.
I glance away, unable to meet his eyes as my body betrays me; as my heart flutters wildly and heat seeps through me.
“Who are you?” I demand. “Why do you keep hauling me into your arms and stealing me away against my will?”
“Finley Solisar…” His voice is strained. Dangerously so. It draws my attention back to his face. He rubs his hand over his handsome features and lets out a shuddering sigh.
The way he looks right now… it isn’t cruel or cold or savage, as I’d expected.
I don’t really understand it, but he almost appears…
Vulnerable.
“I… need… to drink from you. I can’t explain. It’s beyond my control. But I swear on my mother’s grave that I will not harm you. So, I beg of you, allow me to take from you again… like before.” He implores me with his eyes, which are the color of rubies.
And ever so slightly, they glow.
“Why are you even asking?” My voice comes out colder than I intended. “I’m no match for you. You could easily overpower me, just like you did before, so why bother seeking my consent?”
His eyes widen a fraction. “I’m trying not to turn into a complete monster here.”
“So you expect me to say yes because your need is so great, and because you asked? Is that going to make you feel better about all of this?”
“I was hoping you would understand, because the alternative is not so pleasant.” He takes a step forward, the unholy glow in his eyes intensifying. “And I have reached my breaking point.”
His nostrils flare. He inhales deeply.
His thirst is palpable. The air around him almost crackles with tension.
“At least you asked this time,” I say stiffly, as my eyes drop to the collar of his shirt, which is unbuttoned… enough to reveal a glimpse of sculpted perfection underneath. “And because you did a good deed for me back then, I’ll take your words and intentions as earnest.”
After all, he did help Aderick.
And I really don’t think he wants to harm me. I’d much rather cooperate than have him take me by force.
I shrug off my coat, letting it fall to the floor. I pull down the woolen neck of my sweater and tilt my head to one side. “Consider this a token of my gratitude,” I say stiffly, “for saving my brother’s life.”
“That will have to suffice, for now.” His voice cracks. He takes another step forward, his movements like water; impossibly fluid and graceful. There’s no way anyone could mistake him for human.
“Wait!” I snap, holding up my hand.
His glare could melt iron. “What?” I catch a glimmer of sharp fangs. Fingers trembling, he reaches out and brushes my hair away from my neck.
Danger radiates from him.
I push on in spite of the cold-but-hot knot forming in my chest. “I have one condition.”
He looks down at me, eyes narrowing, his expression regal and terrible.
I can almost imagine what he’s thinking.
What audacity. You aren’t in any position to be setting conditions.
“Tell me,” he rasps.
“When you’re done with… me, you’re going to explain everything.”
What kind of creature are you, that you need my blood to survive?
The demon doesn’t say a word. All of a sudden, he’s by my side, his fingers shockingly gentle as he tucks my hair behind my ear. “I won’t harm you,” he whispers. “Just be still.”
I close my eyes, tensing in anticipation. His fingers slide across my jaw. He tilts my head. His other arm goes around my waist.
He pulls me closer, until I can feel his hard, powerful body through my thick woolen tunic, and to my surprise, he’s warm.
And he smells warm, too; faintly of smoke and spice and leather and parchment and male.
Suddenly, his mouth is on my neck, gently clamping down on the area above my collarbone. I feel a sharp, twin-pinpoint sensation as his fangs pierce my skin, but it isn’t as painful as last time.
The pain quickly gives way to heat and the molten sensation of his lips against my skin.
As he drinks, he holds me tighter, one arm curled around my waist, his other hand caressing the back of my neck, fingers sliding through the loose strands of my hair.
I close my eyes.
I can’t believe I’m doing this again.
And I don’t mind it.