"Pet, you have no idea the monster you play with. You come in here with your pleasured scent, my claim still on your neck while another male hangs off you with a satisfied smile that you cannot see because you’re too busy trying to please us both… Then you offer yourself to me again." He scoffed, and the sound was strangely sensual. "The only thing keeping me from you is these bars. And even then, they are ill-suited to hold back the weight of my utter desire for you. It should be ungodsly, how desperately I need you."
In the wake of his seething confession, her knees grew weak. She took a step forward. Az made her stumble back. She tried again, and this time, the demon let her go—with a warning:
"Touch one hair on her head, and I’ll make sure you never see sunlight."
"Good," Bastian replied.
Her heart was in her throat, and her thighs trembled as she stopped before the bars. Bastian was still against the wall, eyes flashing. But that didn’t deter her. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around the rusted, cold iron, cheeks pressing against the bars as she leaned her face forward.
"You asked me to grant you forgiveness?" she murmured.
He gave a strained nod. She did not speak again, and time ticked on, the storm raging, turning inward as she felt herself, unknowingly, take small sips of the wind and rain, calling it back. She didn’t know how she was doing it, or how to stop it, but each small bit she reclaimed made her sag against the bars.
Finally, Bastian peeled himself away from the wall, coming to a stilted stand before her. She could reach out and touch him, but she did not.
With a strained noise, the vampire fell to his knees. "You wanted me to show you, Luella." She jolted at the sound of her name, realizing she hated it on his lips. "You got what you wanted, did you not? Me, at your feet, beholden to your will," Bastian breathed. "Do with me what you must, but please, do not free me from here. Because I am so frightened of what I will do to you." His head hung low, black hair obscuring his face, leaving only the slightest glint of silver from his many earrings.
Luella’s fingers untangled from the bars, reaching down for his chin. She tilted his face back up and said, "Okay. If that is what you want. Butdrink."
His throat bobbed with a swallow, and she watched the line of it, entranced, feeling her own neck throb where his fangs had pierced her flesh. As if he heard her thoughts, his scarlet eyes dipped below her chin. "You—you cannot ask me to take from you again."
They were at a standstill.
"Then drink from me." Az’s voice broke through the tension between them. He reclaimed his spot by her back, a hand caging her in against the bars as he reached for them. "Drink from me. It wouldn’t be the first time."
She hid her shock—barely.
"You are not the first to offer." Bastian licked his lips. "Vale already did. I turned him down."
"Why?" Luella wanted to know.
His eyes pinned her to the spot, taking in the way her demon wrapped around her back, white wings folded against her, only just hidden, the neckline of his large shirt hanging loose over her skin, brushing places that were still tender, too aware. Her breath hitched.
"Would you really like to owe Vale anything?"
"No," she replied, "I would not." But she knew she owed himsomethings. For one, the bracelet on her wrist. But in her mind, that was a weak trade. Whatshewas owed for all he had done to her.
"You know I am not like him, like the others. Drink from me, Bastian. I won’t hold it against you," said Az.
Bastian paused for so long she wondered if he was ever going to respond, before finally demanding, "What is in it for you?"
Az’s hand cupped her cheek lovingly. "Her."
She sighed, and the ship rocked with a gust of wind. Was it just her, or was it growing duller?
"Fine," Bastian relented. "I will drink from you, but it is the same for me—I am only doing this for her."
"Then we have a common goal." Az’s hand left her cheek, wrist stretching between the bars, while he remained wrapped around her.
In a flash, Bastian stood, gripping the demon’s forearm and dragging his wrist to his lips. Those scarlet eyes stayed fixed on her as he opened his mouth, fangs flashing, before his lips wrapped around Az’s flesh. The demon didn’t flinch as Bastian drank from him, but she saw his jaw flex. Bastian’s throat worked as he swallowed, the low sound in his throat like a growl of satisfaction.
Watching them like that, she felt heat stir inside her. She knew what it felt like to have those fangs buried inside her body.
Bastian drank. And drank. The iron bars and Luella, trapped between the two males.
She had won this battle, even if it had not been the exact outcome she had imagined. It was only in the aftermath that she realized she had not stuttered once. Pride welled within her, but she quickly squashed it, knowing all it would take was one look from Vale or Tharen before she crumbled.
The more Bastian drank, the more her determination wavered, and exhaustion took its place.
