been mistaken. She tasted of wine. And blood.
"What have you done?" he demanded, his voice no less intimidating for its softness.
"Done?" She stared up at him, her heart pounding.
Rayven took a deep breath and then bent his head to hers again, savoring the taste of his wine on her tongue. He closed his eyes as he deepened the kiss. She felt sorry for him, did she, thought he'd experienced some horrible tragedy in his life.
His arms imprisoned her as he kissed her again, and yet again. He'd teach her to feel sorry for him.
Rhianna moaned softly as his mouth punished hers. She tried to turn her head, but his hands came up to imprison her face. A red haze swam before her eyes and then, within the crimson mist, she saw a man running from a dark shadow. She heard his cry of terror as the darkness engulfed him, saw a pair of eyes that burned with hell's own fury...
The man's fear took hold of her. She felt death hovering over her, stealing her breath, her life, and she began to struggle wildly in Rayven's embrace. She had to get away, away from those hideous red eyes.
"My lord! Rayven! You're hurting me!"
Slowly, her words penetrated the thick red haze that had settled over him. Muttering an oath, he released her.
Rhianna stumbled back, her heart pounding frantically as she stared up at him. His cloak rippled, as though it had a life of its own, and she knew, knew, that Rayven's cloak had been the dark shadow she had seen in her mind.
"What happened?" she gasped. "Who was that man? What have you done?"
He looked down at her, his dark eyes glittering like shards of black glass. "Now you know what I need,"
he said.
She stared at him, her thoughts churning as she sought to decipher his meaning. She tried to draw her gaze from his, but could only stand there, weak and helpless as a mouse in the jaws of a lion.
Caught in the web of his hypnotic eyes, unable to think or speak, she could only stare up at him, silent, vulnerable.
Abruptly, he pivoted on his heel, his cloak swirling like black smoke around his ankles, and then he was gone.
Rhianna sank to her knees, her arms wrapped around her body to still its trembling.
She didn't understand what had just happened, but she knew, for the first time, what it was to be truly afraid.
Chapter Thirteen
He didn't join her at supper the next night. Rhianna couldn't help feeling relieved. She wasn't ready to face him again, not until she understood what had happened between them, until she could make sense of the strange vision she had seen while Rayven was kissing her.
After spending a few minutes toying with her food, she pushed her plate aside and left the dining room, wandering through the downstairs until she came to the library.
With a sigh, she ran her gaze over the books lining the walls, but none appealed to her. And then, as if it were inevitable, she found herself in his study. She had never gone there without him before, and she couldn't help feeling she was trespassing as she wandered around the room.
And then she saw it, a small book sitting on his desk. Curious, she picked it up and thumbed through the pages. Most were blank, but a few had writing on them.
Mesmerized by the words, she sat down, hardly aware that Bevins entered the room a short time later and laid a fire in the hearth.
The book was written in a bold hand and she knew, without knowing how she knew, that Rayven had written the words, dark words, troubling words...
During the night,
I am the creature before you,
pale and tall and straight
dark eyes firing toward you
gliding, lifting, steering, directing
I am the silent and the powerful
a moonlit field of smooth, untouched snow
But he
Yes, him, the other me
Oh, he would tremble in your grasp
his lily hand would crumble to your touch
he would twist to press your lips to his
he would stroke your silken cheek
and slide his corroded lips along your
dovelike neck.
Not I, you understand, the other me
he who squints
and hesitates
and weakens
in the daylight.
Her heart was pounding erratically as she turned the page to the next poem.
I can feel it coming
through the tears in the darkness
quickly approaching as I conceal
myself
quaking underneath
the shadows in the light.
Shivers ripple my moist skin
The urgent itching on the
surface tormenting me
keeping me locked in.
I run my tongue over
my lips
And I am found, as always.
Then it begins
My resistance bleeds