end.
Then again, she remembered Casmir the wealthy vampire and his mistress in the tavern. He’d finished drinking and healed the woman in all of five seconds. It was possible.
“Would you…?”
He managed to keep his voice steady, but not without effort. “Are you sure?”
She couldn’t have been sure, but it looked like he was holding his breath. Holding her breath, too, she placed her hand on his. Touching him always seemed to bring him back into focus. And at least… at least she would get to feel his lips flush against her skin once again. Hysteria bubbled up in her throat as she suppressed a wild grin.
Maybe the lure of the forest had grown on her, after all.
20
Garin shifted into a kneeling position on the mattress and held his palm out to her. With hesitation, she took it, and he smoothly dipped her into an incline. It was as if they were dancing.
Sensing her unease, Garin chuckled. Mirth played along the constellations in his eyes and he flashed a disarming smile. Cradled in the monster’s grasp by choice, just as she had at the inn, she clenched her eyes shut.
“Ready?” he murmured. Whether he’d intended it or not, his voice was low, almost tantric.
It did nothing to smother her hesitant fear, but she smiled and nodded bravely.
His hand twined with Lilac’s slipped away, and suddenly the top of the tunic was being tugged gently down to reveal the gashes on her bosom. She felt herself gasp involuntarily. If it went well, she would either be healed. If it didn’t… it wouldn’t be her problem any longer.
“Not to worry. I’ve kept you decent. Now, stay very, very still. Do you understand?”
She sucked in sharply just as his mouth grazed her bare skin. In contrast with the rest of his body, it was surprisingly warm. He ran his tongue along the top curve of one breast, then the other. He did this twice, carefully, then pulled away with a slow exhale.
Opening her eyes, Lilac looked down. Her skin was smooth and rosy, seemingly untouched by Darkling hands. Awestruck, she glanced up at him; he looked just as relieved as she felt.
“Are you all right?” she whispered.
“It is I who should ask you.” He looked rather pleased with himself. “That wound was fresher than the bite mark on your neck, and it wasn’t horrible. I don’t want to hurt you, is all.”
“You won’t. It isn’t possible.”
It was a lie, they both were well aware, but in the moment she forced herself to believe otherwise.
Two kinds of instincts raged within her body now—between fear, and something equally as powerful—pulling at her subconscious with the force of two stallions, charging in opposite directions. One was her instinct to run as far as she could from him. The other stoked the twinkling embers within her, urging her to consume him as wholly and with as much passion as possible.
As if prompted by the sudden, forceful pulse of adrenaline, Lilac reached up to cup his face between her hands.
His unnatural eyes widened.
Then, she pulled his face toward hers.
In a besetting surge of brimstone and smoke, he was on top of her. This time was nothing like the slow-building fire she’d experienced back in the grotto. Lilac let him into her mouth, and he kissed her back with a molten madness that destroyed all hesitation in its path—a kind of chaos, one hundred and ninety-two years in the making.
It was urgent. Furious.
The tips of his fangs dragged roughly against her lips as his tongue teased against hers. When she dug her fingernails into his shoulder to pull back and gasp for air, he didn’t blink once, instead distracting himself with her jawline, down her neck until he reached her wound. Her wince quickly turned a soft purr as he slid his tongue delicately around the edges of the bite mark, careful to avoid his own teeth touching her in the process—
Then, he was gone.
“Garin?” Her eyes fluttered open. Lilac scuttled back against the pillows, embarrassingly yanking the hem of the tunic down over her knees.
“I can’t.” He stood, bending over the edge of the bed, trying to catch his own breath. “It’s just—it’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong?”
“This,” he snarled, his fingers shaking visibly. His fangs, now fully sprouted, glinted against the firelight. “All of this. I’m the delivery boy. Your courier on the way to the throne.” As if speaking to himself, he sneered at the ceiling. “We won’t fool anyone. I can’t have you.”
The back of her neck prickled as