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“Yes,” I say.
“And if he refuses to go?”
The bond stirs in my chest, warm and painful and filled with her.
Centuries have taught me patience, but right now, every instinct I have urges me to wrap my hands around his throat. The only thing stopping me is knowing it would hurt her by doing so.
“If he refuses,” I say, “then I continue pretending I am better than I am.”
Eagan exhales slowly.
“Keep a guard on him at all times.”
“You don’t want to keep them apart?”
I stop outside my office door. “There would be no point. She will go looking for him. I’d rather them be supervised than have her sneaking about and putting herself in danger.”
CHAPTER 55
• Alessia •
SLEEP NEVER TRULY comes, not in the way it used to.
Every time I begin to drift, something restless coils beneath my ribs and drags me back to the surface. Part of me feels missing, and I know that part is Kylian.
The hours blur together in a haze of half-consciousness, where I’m neither truly awake nor asleep, caught in some liminal space where time moves strangely. Every sound from beyond the door makes my heart race with possibility that never materializes.
By the time the door finally opens, I am already awake, my body reacting before my mind does as the bond snaps tight in my chest, immediate and unmistakable. I push myself upright too quickly, relief rushing through me. The sensation is so strong it leaves me breathless. I hate how desperately I’ve been waiting and how pathetic I must look with my tangled hair and sleepless eyes, sitting up in bed like a dog hearing its master return.
“You’re back!” I exclaim, tossing the covers aside. Relief floods me when his hands grip my face, rough and possessive. “I didn’t think you . . .” I breathe, desperate to explain, but the words barely leave my lips before Kylian’s mouth crashes into mine.
His kiss isn’t gentle. It’s bruising—full of anger and need that steals the breath from my lungs. I gasp, but he doesn’t let up. His hands slide down, gripping my thighs, hauling me up as if I weigh nothing. My back hits the wall, his body pressing into mine, and instinct takes over as my legs lock around his waist.
I try to speak, to plead with him, but he swallows every word, his mouth devouring mine until I’m dizzy. His lips drag down my jaw to my neck, nipping and sucking hard enough to leave marks. I’m trembling with emotion, something tangled and helpless, caught up in the bond and his fury.
Still, he hasn’t said a word, just breathing hard against my skin as if words might shatter what little control he has left.
I tilt my head, offering my throat, giving him permission because I can feel how close he is to the edge. His fangs pierce my skin, the bite sharp and burning as he feeds, and I clutch at his shoulders, panting through the pleasure that blurs at the edges.
He drinks deep as if my blood is the only thing anchoring him to this world. When he finally pulls back, I’m lightheaded, stunned by the hunger in him. He lets me slide down his body, my legs shaky, and before I can say a word he turns away.
I touch my neck, confused, watching as he moves to the wardrobe, pulling out fresh clothes. The silence between us is heavy, jagged. I open my mouth, desperate to break it, to talk about everything.
But as I reach for him, he cuts me off. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”
He pulls his shirt over his head, not looking at me. My stomach sinks. “You’re leaving again?” My voice cracks.
“I needed blood,” he says.
My vision blurs as I fight back tears. “Kye . . .” I plead, but he’s already moving for the door.
“I have things to attend to.” His words carry the same tone he might use with a servant, not someone whose blood he just drank, not someone who shares this impossible bond that neither of us asked for but both of us are trapped by.
“I just want to talk,” I say, stepping closer, because I can’t let him leave like this, not when everything between us feels fractured in ways I don’t know how to fix. My bare feet are silent on the cold floor as I try to close the distance, but I notice the slight tension that enters his shoulders, and he doesn’t turn to face me.
“No.”
“You won’t even hear me out? You’re just going to shut the door in my face?”
