He scowled at her, and she forced herself to hold his gaze. She itched to smooth back the lock of hair that fell across his forehead, but she kept her hands anchored to her sides.
Her heart raced like a jackrabbit as he kissed her cheek, the barest whisper of his lips against her skin. Warmth bloomed in her at the feeling of his breath upon her neck.
Nuzzling his face in the crook of her shoulder, he inhaled deeply. The soft skin of his lips grazed her throat.
“Ready?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered.
He cradled her head in his hands and kissed her throat. Suddenly, two sharp pricks pierced her, and she gasped.
She struggled for a moment, and he gripped her head tighter in his hands, holding her to his face. Panic seized her, and she struggled against him. He steadied her, a thumb stroking her hair. As quickly as the pain and the terror came, a warm, fuzzy feeling unspooled, coursing through her entire body.
Waves of pleasure radiated from his bite, heating her blood. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, holding her as he fed.
She wanted him. He was good to her and would never harm her.
Then, he licked the wounds and held a hand against her neck. The words were barely audible as he whispered,“Leknar.”
Carefully, as if it were the most important mission of all, he replaced the cuff of her gown on her shoulder and gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
She felt the two small punctures had already crusted over.
Caspian stood and took her hand, helping her to her feet.
Wordlessly, he walked her back to her chambers.
Reaching her door, she looked up at him, feeling a strange rush of affection for the demon standing before her. He was so at odds with himself that half of the time, he seemed like he had a shred of a heart left, and the other half of the time, he was utterly terrifying. Still, her gaze softened as she remembered the horrors he had endured.
Perhaps his anger was one born of grief too deep to bear.
Caspian stilled, frowning. “And your little speech tonight? The one about marriage being a set of shackles? A thing of torment and misery?” He paused. “It reeks of bitterness.”
Her face fell.
She gaped at his retreating figure and spluttered, “That’s just—the silliest—absolutely have no idea what you’re talking about—”
But Caspian didn’t turn back, and she was left standing there, talking to nothing but empty air.
That night, she nestled in a chair by the window. Rain sluiced down the windowpane, and fog shrouded the landscape. The gloominess mirrored her mood.
She thought of what she had said tonight and grimaced.
Did she really sound that bitter?
Chapter 24
Caspian
The girl was soft, sweet.
He was almost developing an attachment to her. Caspian found himself swiftly becoming obsessed—needing to see what she was doing and what she was up to.
Even if it was all incrediblyboring.All she ever did was read books and practice her needlepoint. So quiet and soft spoken was his Elizabeth. A prize on his arm, a beautiful woman who lounged about his home, like he, a male of power and prestige deserved. Even as he berated himself for revealing some of his secrets tonight, he hadn’t meant to say so much.
Caspian smirked as he floated on the high of her blood that thrummed with life, feeding his senses and his powers. She tasted divine, like a rare, fine wine. He couldn’t remember the last time a mortal’s blood was so good. Her blood was rich and amber in taste, sweet and metallic, and its power was potent and satiating.
They had shared a tolerable evening, even though she had made the mistake of speaking to him as if he were a good man, as if he had an ounce of humanity left.
