A vampire of his own, though she didn’t feed on blood. She preyed on life, all the same, didn’t she?
He ran his tongue up along the trail of her neck, tracing the tendon, and savored the moan that escaped her lips as she arched her back and pressed her perfect breasts into his chest.
She was so warm. So soft. Sohis.
He wouldn’t drink much from her. They both needed their strength for the next day. But that was the problem—theybothneeded their strength. And stringy meat stew stopped the ache in his stomach but did nothing for the burning in his veins.
The burning that could only be solved by one thing, and one thing alone.
Two hungers would be filled this night, however. Two needs would be sated at once. When he began the low, deep purr that he knew emptied her mind and left her limp in his arms, he grinned.
He would never cease to adore the power it gave him over her. But how he wished forrealpower. Even just from time to time. He was a monster, after all. And he did so much enjoy his games. Shedding the rest of his clothing, he stripped her quickly of what remained of hers.
So soft. But beneath the layer of smoothness was the lithe muscle of a woman who had fought for everything she had. Who had earned it all. He had taken her life from her. Sent her to the gutters and she had clawed her way up from the muck and dirt to come for him.
And now he parted her and sank himself deep into her heat, feeling her need, her desire, her pleasure. Hate had driven her to his side, and he had somehow turned it into lust, then molded that lust to love.
Perfect, beautiful,deadlylittle Nadi.
He devoured her lips with his. Felt her kiss him back with the same desperate fervor. She needed him just as badly as he needed her. Parting from her, he yanked her head forcefully to the side—not because he had to. But because he wanted to.
And sank his fangs into the tender skin of her throat, even as he rutted himself deep into her exquisite heat.
How he had missed the taste of her intoxicating blood.
Mael, before he had chained him into the coffin, had warned him it was addicting. “You only think you care about her. It’s the blood. It’s not poison, it’s a drug. Look what it did to Braen.”
Lie.
It was only a lie.
It had to be.
Because the alternative…
Might break the only thing keeping his tenuous grasp on sanity intact.
Her.
TWELVE
The next morning was a strained one. Tensions were high as Nadi fetched breakfast for herself and Raziel and took up a spot by one of the fires in the open area outside of the buildings where the rest of the Iltani clan had gathered.
It was a warm grain with some kind of syrup in it, reminding her a little of oatmeal. But grittier. It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t terribly good either. She offered a bowl of it to Raziel.
Shockingly, he took it, and began to eat in silence, lost in his own thoughts.
A few other Iltanis were near enough to them to shoot them uncomfortable glances, but at least nobody got up and moved on account of their arrival. At least they weren’tthatbitchy about their presence.
But she knew things were going to get uncomfortable when Kalo came over to sit near them. It wasn’t that alone that sent her hackles rising, it was the expression on his face.
It was an expression she knew from her childhood.
He was looking to start a fight.
The question was, with whom?
“So. How’d it feel killing Luciento?”
