He holds up both hands. “I didn’t know it was you. I knew your name was Eloise but not that you were the Eloise Harcourt who stood between her and the shade she was so intent on mating.”
“His name is Damien.”
Marcel backs up a step, leaning against the door. “I know your mate well. He isn’t happy about me feeding from you. I can’t say I blame him.” Longing flits through his expression. He catches himself and replaces it with an impassive mask.
“I make my own choices.”
“Right.” He takes a step toward me. “I’ve called off the men who were tracking you topside. Now that you’ve challenged the queen, there’s no reason for it.”
“Thank you.” A small but real sense of relief comes over me.
“The rules of the challenge are clear. She will not harm you while you compete.” His tone sounds protective. Marcel isn’t going to hurt me. I know it in my bones.
“Are you upset that I challenged your queen?”
His lids lower until he’s looking at me through his lashes. “No. I’ll be upset if you lose. She’d lock me in the tower until I met the sun if she heard me say it, but it’s true.”
“You’re unhappy with her rule?”
He scowls. “I will speak no more on this topic.”
I nod and offer him my wrist. At first I think he might reject it, might ask to feed from my neck again, but instead, he lowers himself to his knees in front of me. My eyes widen as he takes what I offer more gently than any vampire has ever taken my vein. And when I tell him to stop, he does.
He bows before letting himself out of the room.
Afterward, I pace my room, then try to distract myself with the book Ren left me. I hoped Damien would return before dawn, but he doesn’t. I take a long shower before crawling into bed and crying myself to sleep.
When I wake, Damien is lying beside me, holding me. “You came back.”
He kisses me breathless, long and slow. When he finally pulls back, he says, “There will never be a day when I can watch another male feed from you and not destroy everything within reach. I had to go, or there would have been violence. But I’ll always come back, little bird. Always.”
“You’ve fed,” I say. Not a question. The wrinkles around his eyes are smoother, and his cheeks and lips are full and pink.
“As you wished.” His voice holds an uncomfortable edge.
“I do wish,” I say, smoothing my hands up his chest. “I don’t want to know the details, but I’m glad you have more blood in your system that’s not hers.”
He strokes a hand along the outside of my arm and then my side. “I had blood bags at my apartment for an emergency. If I eat well—human food—I won’t need to feed again for several weeks.”
“Oh.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself flush against him. “But…” I sigh. “We’ve come too far for petty jealousies, Damien. What would we do in your world if I was also a shade? I’d have to watch you eat, and you’d have to watch me.”
He caresses my shoulder, his touch trailing down my spine. The corner of his mouth quirks into a crooked smile. “We’d hunt together. My mother and father often roamed the woods behind the castle, hunting for mountain sheep. There are no humans on Tenebris to feed on. We eat only animals.”
“I thought you said there were witches? Wild ones who lived in the outlands or something.”
He nods. “Willowgulch. It’s true they look human, but no shade would ever try to feed on one. Not anyone who valued their life. The elves look human as well, but their blood is toxic. We don’t even drink it on the battlefield.”
“Cassius told me that one of the witches helped you with your mission to recover your father.”
He sits up, smiling. “He did?” He tucks in his chin as if truly surprised. “He told you that story?”
“When he explained his scar and the one on Morpheus’s face.”
He trails kisses along my neck to my ear. “Sometimes I miss those days.”
I take his hand. “I’m off until tomorrow. Last day before the full moon. How do you want to spend it?”
He kisses me again, until I’m certain we’ll spend the rest of the night in this bed. But when he draws back, his face turns serious. He lifts from the bed as if the laws of gravity don’t apply to him and holds out a hand to help me up. “Get your daggers. We’re going to train.”
