“She was a travelling witch! Cloaked at the coven meeting. I didn’t see her face, didn’t catch her name. Haven’t seen her at a meeting since. I swear it!”
“Anything else?” he said with a slow smile.
“You’re … not going to let me go … are you?”
He smiled cruelly, revealing his teeth that had lengthened into fangs. “I think not.”
With predatory swiftness, he bit the man’s wrist and took several deep pulls. Warm blood dribbled down his lips and onto his chin.
Ripping a piece of fabric off Arman’s tunic, he gagged the man while he fed. The man’s screams muffled and weakened, Caspian listened to the streets around them, lest he wake the neighbourhood and invite unwanted eyes. After nothing stirred for a few heartbeats, he tucked into his meal, feasting on Arman’s cruelty, his misery, as he drank his essence.
His thoughts drifted to the amulet.
Unfortunately, all he had heard for years now were whispers.
Whoever had hidden the legendary item had done it well, but at least he had gleaned something of worth. It had been seen. Confirmation that it still existed.
His eyes grew heavy lidded as he gave himself fully to the monster that roamed beneath his skin. Talons emerged from his fingers and dug deeper into the man’s wrist, drawing fresh rivulets of crimson.
Arman's whimpers grew fainter as Caspian fed. The thrill of the chase sang in his veins, drowning out all other thoughts except the primal satisfaction of predator claiming prey.Sated, Caspian withdrew. He studied his victim with cold indifference. The evidence of his true nature would not do. He drew his dagger across the man's wrist with practiced care, shredding the puncture marks his fangs had left. The mortals who discovered this corpse would see only a brutal robbery gone wrong—nothing to suggest a demon walked among them.As his features returned to their mortal guise, his thoughts turned to Elizabeth.
Interesting that his new chosen human was from Briarton, the very place where the amulet had been seen. He tucked his dagger away, stepping back into shadow. He would have to learn if the girl had any ties to the witches. He doubted it—nobles rarely mixed with witches—but the possibility tantalized him. How marvelous would it be if his new playmate unknowingly held connection to the very prize he sought? The coincidence was too tempting to ignore.
Chapter 6
The Ball in Ambrosia
Elizabeth woke up, stretching. She slipped out from under the covers and threw open the drapes to admit the soft morning light. Hues of pink and orange painted the horizon, it was still early.
Donning a housecoat, she padded silently into the hall, picking up an ornate silver tray set with a teapot, a tiny jug of milk, a pot of sugar, and a plate with a breakfast pastry. Setting it on a small table on her terrace, she reclined into a lounge chair that faced the gardens. The sunrise unfolded in all its glory, and the birds’ twitterings filled the crisp morning air.
She prepared her tea, adding cream and a small spoonful of sugar, exactly how she liked it. She swirled the tea with a spoon and slowly took the first sip. A small smile graced her lips. Perfection.
Spearing a piece of flaky pastry with her fork, she brought it halfway to her mouth before she stopped dead.
She spotted something, a rectangle of yellowish parchment tucked underneath the leg of the table. Frowning, she set down the pastry and retrieved it—it was an envelope.‘Elizabeth’had been scrawled in angular male handwriting on the front.
Inside she found a folded sheet of parchment and a short note. Picking up the note first, her eyes flew to the bottom, where it read:‘-Caspian.’
She closed her eyes and pressed the note to her chest. How had he known that she stayed up all night, fretting that she had made the wrong decision? Worrying that she had no way to reach him now if she changed her mind?
She bent over to read the note and had just glimpsed the phrase‘helping you run away and settle your life somewhere’before she heard someone clear their throat behind her.
“Lady?”
Elizabeth gasped, pressing the note to her chest.
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. Your mother has guests in the lounge. They’ve arrived much earlier than expected,” her maid said with a curtsey. “Your mother has just announced they will hold a formal breakfast in the dining hall.”
“Oh.” She hurriedly shoved the note back in the envelope.
Elizabeth followed her maid inside and reluctantly sat in the cushioned chair before the vanity. She clutched the envelope to her lap while her maid brushed her hair. Her maid plaited it around her crown and glanced down. “What’s that you have there?”
“Oh, nothing,” Elizabeth said, flushing.
Her maid gave her a knowing look. “A love letter from your betrothed?”
“Er.”
