The midday eclipse rolls over the realm, and a chill sinks into the room.
Celine’s blood coats my tongue and runs down my throat, better than my filthiest dreams. I’ve been hard since she shoved me into the wall. I could sip her for hours, making her come until we both got our fill, but I don’t dare risk it.
No matter what Celine says, we must be careful. If the veydra bursts through the door an hour from now, she needs to be at her best. I would never forgive myself if my needs overrode her safety.
I lick the wound shut, grinning as Celine grinds on my lap, chasing her release.
“More,” she begs.
“No.” I grip her hips and hold her still. “You wanted to interrogate me, and I’m a vampire of my word.” Standing, I carry her to the bed, drop her on the end, and back away.
If I can reach her, I won’t keep my hands to myself. And if I don’t keep my hands to myself, neither of us will be able to concentrate. It’s best to remove myself from temptation.
“I don’t know where to begin,” I say, scraping my hand over my jaw. It’s scratchy with stubble. “But to make this all make sense, I should tell you that my mum hates being a vampire.”
Celine raises her eyebrows. “Was she turned against her will?”
I nod shortly. “She didn’t tell me she was a vampire until I figured it out and confronted her. When I decided I wanted to beturned, I forced her hand and told her she could either turn me herself or I would find someone else to do it.”
“Damn,” Luca says. “I’m guessing she didn’t love that.”
“That’s putting it lightly. She thinks vampires shouldn’t exist. Turning me was another strike against her soul, but she feared I would end up dead if I went searching for other vampires. She was probably right about that.”
“How does the blood circle fit in?” Ciprian asks.
I glance at him, surprised he’s speaking to me directly, and clear my throat. “It’s a maker’s responsibility to tell their progeny the rules. Vampires aren’t social creatures. We don’t form communities or swap stories—the only person who owes you the truth is your maker. But as payback for forcing her hand, Mum refused to tell me anything. I’ve been flying blind ever since.”
I begin to pace. I can’t look at them while I talk about this. They’re smart—every single one of them. Hearing my story will make them draw conclusions. Conclusions that reveal more than I want to reveal. I suppose it can’t be helped.
“When I got sick, I called her for answers. She told me I would be dead within the year. Apparently, blood circles are a major taboo among vampires. They’re formed when you drink from someone.”
Luca frowns. “But you’ve drunk from others before. Why didn’t it happen then?”
“Never from anyone.. .” I sigh and tug on my hair. “Never from anyone I had feelings for. Blood circles are only able to form when blood is shared consensuallyandthe vampire’s emotions are activated. For this reason, vampires never drink from anyone they’re intimate with—even other vampires. It’s too risky, and since most of my kind don’t have many emotions to begin with, it’s incredibly rare for both conditions to be met.”
“Wait.” Ciprian frowns. “You also drank from me and Luca. Did our blood make you sick?”
I open my mouth, then close it again.
The silence presses in on me, taking on a life of its own.
“There’s no fucking way,” Ciprian murmurs.
I can’t meet his eyes. “I didn’t know.”
“But you hate me,” he snaps. “How could you form some kind of mystical blood circle with me? You must be wrong.”
“I don’t hate you,” I whisper. “I didn’t then, and I don’t now.”
“Could have fooled me.” Ciprian narrows his eyes and rolls up his sleeve. “Prove it. Take a bite right now because I don’t fucking believe you.”
“Ciprian.” Celine looks between us. “I don’t think he’s lying to you.”
“Then he can prove it.” He waves his wrist under my nose. “Drink up.”
I shake my head. “Not until you’ve forgiven me for Sheena.”
His expression hardens. “That will never happen.”
