On one side, there was I, a newly rebirthed sänglure with beastly needs, but who could still choose to behave like a regular, rational fae. I could still be somewhat impulsive, driven by some of my cravings. I could indulge my desires, even the secret sensual ones. I could play, dance, fuck, and—yes—murder, and still remain civilized enough to not be a monster.
Only monsters killed indiscriminately.
On the opposite side of the line, crouched in wait, was bloodlust’s profound darkness. If I let it sink its claws into me, I’d cease being the person I was. Forever. Gone would be the person I wanted to be first for my brother and sister, then just for my brother … and now … now just for me—Teo had been murdered while I was held captive for centuries under the sea. Isi gone a century before that.
Now, for the second time since my rebirth, bloodlust held me in its thrall. I was trapped again. My bastard of a captor refused to allow me to drink blood from anyone but him, and since he’d also locked a power-dampening collar around my neck—as if I were his motherfucking pet—I couldn’t direct his blood to exit his body and come to me.
The asshole had left me only two choices: drink from his vein—like a fucking monster—or starve and fall prey to my beastly ways—like the fucking monster I’d fought so hard never to become. Bloodlust waited and waited and waited, hunched in unnatural stillness, for the one who’d unleashed the monster.
When the heavy door to my prison finally swung open, I uncoiled myself from the bed in the corner, the sole piece of furniture in my prison. I stretched the length of the chain that shackled my ankle toward my visitor.
It would be him. Lately, it was only ever him: Alobaz Hawxley, prince of the Rubor Dynasty, commander of the emperor’s armies, and all-around prick extraordinaire who had made me this monster. He would be the one to reckon with its demands, and I would be perfectly monstrous. I’d fuck my enemy again and again and again, until I satisfied the need to be stuffed full by him—highly regrettable and equally undeniable. Then I would finally feed—resistance was futile at this point. And if Justice decided to shine her righteousness my way … soon I would murder the man who had cost me my brother.
I’d make sure his death stuck this time.
Alobaz was a filthy liar. He claimed he hadn’t killed my brother. But he had, he absolutely had. My parents were certain of it, and the former king and queen of Zaraga employed the finest spies, those who didn’t risk mistakes because they knew what sort of bloody fate awaited them if they did. One of their spies had witnessed Alobaz sucking my brother dry before removing his head.
No matter what he said, Alobaz Hawxley was Teo’s killer—and the target of my sworn vendetta.
Yet it wasn’t Alobaz who entered my cell.
The footfalls that padded hurriedly toward me were too floppy to be his. The approaching fae smelled of fallen leaves and loam. The heartbeat, steady though accelerated—pumping beautiful, delicious blood—was so wonderfully familiar, soothing, like a warm, happy memory. I reached for that warmth, but the monster within swatted it away, gripping me harder.
“Sora?”
For an instant, my name upon her lips sliced through the haze. Then the bloodlust took me again.
Lumoons flared to life, a glowing orb floating above gnarled, four-fingered hands. I blinked against the soft lights, which felt stark after so much darkness, fixating on those hands that had run through my hair countless times.
“By the Ethers and all the Fuerin,” the creature breathed, allowing the lumoons to drift around her so she could clutch both hands to her frock, directly above her beating heart. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”
I definitely knew her. More so, beneath the monster, I … loved her. What? Who?
Marina.
My attending goblin servant and, secretly, my dear friend.
Marina, Marina, Marina… She could be my guide back to myself.
I opened my mouth to speak but only a croak emerged.
Dark, furious eyes examined me. Her thin lips pursed before parting to bare sharp, spindly teeth.
“I’m going to kill him.” She flexed her fingers. “I don’t care that he’s the commander and the prince of the entire scorching empire, nor do I give a trufy’s feathery ass about the rules that say goblins can’t be violent. Psh, violent I’ll be! No one imprisons my Princesa!”
Even the monster chortled at that. I’d been a prisoner longer than I’d been a princess.
With soft pads of her dragon-feet, Marina edged closer. The lumoonlight warmed the wariness in her pupil-less eyes. Her heartbeat was as loud as a war drum. Marina had always seen through the masks worn at D’Arco Palace to the monsters behind them.
She stopped just beyond my arms’ reach and huffed. “He’s been starving you, hasn’t he? You look like you haven’t fed since I last saw you.”
The monster’s hold on me allowed only a grunt.
Her bare brow hiked up her forehead as her eyes grew larger. “You haven’t fed in eleven days?”
As if I were in a gripping dream and had to remind myself to act, it took several moments before I got my head to shake.
She gasped, her hands back at her chest. “Eleven days without feeding… Good Fuerin, what was he thinking? He obviously wasn’t thinking. He’s lucky to still be alive! He knows who you are now. He should know better.”
