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Chapter 8

Desire.

He should sink his teeth into her, drain her of blood before Mary came looking for him. Lawrence could not come inside his home without his permission. This was his chance, and he may not get another. He should ensure this woman was eliminated as a threat, and then give the word for her mother and brother to receive the same fate.

But the only feeling he could conjure at the moment was a desire so great Kenton had no choice but to give in.

He reached behind her neck and pulled her toward him, his lips covering hers so completely that she had no choice but to open for him. She did so eagerly, their mouths crashing together.

It was the pull, the legendary pull of the Cheld that no vampire could resist. As his mouth slanted over hers, his tongue finding its target, he called on centuries of restraint in an attempt to force himself away from her.

Instead, Kenton reached his hands up to cup Alessandra’s head and wove his fingers through her soft hair.

I am not extraordinary.

How wrong she was, and he meant to prove it to her.

Their tongues tangling, their bodies pressing together, he and this very extraordinary woman kissed as if it were their first, and their last. Because it had to be. Lawrence would tell her the truth, all of it, if given the opportunity.

But he didn’t want to think of Lawrence now. He didn’t want to think of the curse, or the counter-curse, or all the reasons this was madness.

Pulling back, he brought his hands to each side of her face and held them there.

“You talk of enjoying little moments.”

She gripped his forearms then, her touch warm and inviting.

“I’ve never been kissed quite like that before.”

At that moment, he wished to eradicate every one of her boyfriends—all of whom he knew by name—from her mind.

“Your heightened senses . . .”

Their faces were so close he could feel her warm breath on his face. And even though he was aware of losing himself in the depths of her deep brown eyes, he did not fight it.

“No. It’s more than that—”

He felt it too, though he longed to deny it. Those lips, moistened from their kiss, drew him to her. But she stopped him.

“No, wait. I have something important to tell you.”

He refused to let go of her, the smooth cheeks beneath his hands as precious as the most priceless porcelain.

“These . . . these abilities you speak of. I believe you. I believe all of it.”

“Because it is the truth.”

“You mentioned a special, unique ability—”

“Most of the Cheld develop something of their own, some common, others not as much.”

“And I have!” Breathless, and excited, Alessandra looked as if she had just ridden a horse for the first time. And loved it. Her expression reminded him of the way his brother Rowan had looked after he’d won his first joust at the Tournament of the North.

“What is that?” he heard himself asking.

“Danger, Kenton. I can sense you mean me no harm, that you wish to help me. Just as I sensed with Lawrence. Maybe that’s why I believe everything you told me today.”

No, Alessandra. If that is your gift, then your ancestors have forsaken you.