Page 33 of Revenant

His eyes flick—just once—back to Alicent.

Only once.

“You guys are out of your fucking minds.” Alicent looks toward the other girls, bewildered they don’t feel the same. “I’m not going to sit here and be the butt of some ridiculous prank. Witches? Vampires? I’m done. You’re all psychotic.”

Eryx smiles. It’s not kind. He moves in a blink of an eye, eliciting gasps from all the girls. He chooses the one opposite Alicent, moving her so she’s facing the rest of them, him at her back. This is his favorite part, when he gets to give everyone a heavy dose of fear so they’ll stay in line. He pushes her head to the side, trailing his fingers down her neck like a demonstration. Without another word, he plunges his fangs into her carotid. She screams out in terror—they all do.

Except Alicent. Her eyes are trained on him, as I’m sure his are hers. Both in a battle of wills—who’ll break first? The girl Eryx is draining becomes limp, but he doesn’t relent. It shouldn’t have gone this far. It never comes down to this. Alicent stares at him defiantly, but ultimately succumbs to the horror she’s facing. Her hand covers her mouth, still refusing to make a sound—because she’s just as stubborn as Eryx, and she won’t give him that satisfaction.

Once he’s done, Eryx lets the witch’s lifeless body hit the floor, wiping the line of blood from his lips and sucking it clean. “And then there were four. Any other questions?” He looks at each of them pointedly, staying on Alicent a little longer than I’d like.

When none of them utter another word, he continues. “Your real education starts now.” He shrugs, almost bored. “Unless you’d prefer to be shunned by your coven. Maybe take your chances with the werewolves. They too love untrained witches.”

My gaze snaps to Alicent without permission. My instincts surge, ancient and demanding, urging me to ease her fear, to guide her through what Eryx is saying. But Pryce is already at her side, drawn in as if she’s the only thing that matters. Like he can sense she needs him before she even realizes it herself.

It’s maddening that she’s let him in so easily.

“You doing alright?” Bastian asks, taking a sip of his own amber liquid.

“Will be.” I steal his glass and finish it off.

Bastian laughs under his breath, plucking the empty glass from my fingers to refill it. “Tunnel. Now. The three of them can take care of this mess.” He downs the liquor in one swallow before following me toward the door.

The door seals behind us with a muted click. I don’t even make it a full step before he’s there. Heat at my back as his palm presses gently against my jaw, tilting my head just enough to command my attention.

“Need something to take the edge off, pup?” he taunts, clearly enjoying himself. “Is Veil’s spawn getting to you?”

Bastian’s mouth finds the curve of my neck, unhurried. His fangs skim along my skin in a slow, deliberate drag—not enough to break the skin, just enough to torture me. His breath warms the path they trace, and the tease of it is almost worse than the bite.

“I need control,” I plead. We knew a Calder witch was coming. Knowing it and living it is turning out to be two very different things.

Bastian reaches around me with his opposite hand, cupping me firmly. “Follow me,” he whispers in my ear, teeth grazing my lobe, and he’s already halfway down the hallway before I can catch my breath.

We weave in and out of the students throughout campus, the blood thirst gnawing at my senses until it almost becomes unbearable. It’s her—Alicent. Her scent of almond and cinnamon is everywhere, as if it’s already engraved into the walls of this place, taunting me with every step I take toward the forbidden wing. The thought of her is recklessly pulling me forward after Bas, my pulse hammering in time with the distant echo of murmurs around us.

Lost in thought, I don’t see him slip away. Just for a moment, but that moment is enough for him to catch me by surprise. “My room. I have something special waiting.”

I don’t hesitate. We move as one, up the stairs, past the flickering sconces, our pace a mix of precision and reckless abandon. A few doors down, his section of the wing appears exactly as you’d expect—dark, private, a refuge carved out from the rest of this suffocating place.

I slam the door shut behind us, harder than necessary, and the frame rattles in protest. Heart pounding, the sound of our isolation rings in my ears as I lean against the wood, catching the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

He pulls a blood bag out of his fridge, one that’s been freshly stocked since this year’s blood verification. He tosses it to me. “I think this is exactly what you need.” I catch it automatically, eyes scanning the label, and my fangs respond before my mind even has a say.

Name: Alicent Calder

Blood Type: AB-

Species: Witch

“This isn’t—” He pushes me up against the wall, pinning one of my arms above my head, using his other to undo my belt. His black hair contrasts his jade green eyes so vividly they seem to glow.

“This is the best idea we’ve had all day,” he muses, kissing up the column of my neck. “Drink up, pup. Don’t waste it. It wasn’t easy sneaking that for myself.” Bastian’s hand reaches inside my boxers, gripping my hard cock like a vise, tugging toward him in one fluid motion.

“Fuck, Bas.” He moans, pushing my slacks along with my boxers down until they meet the ground, my cock springing up with anticipation. My back rests against the door, eyes glued to the bag while Bastian’s fangs scrape down the length of my torso until he’s on his knees before me.

My fangs ache, begging me for just a taste.

“That’s right. Just a sip. That’s all you need.” His tongue circles my crown, edging me until I give in.