Page 51 of Blood Curse

“I believe it would stabilise the curse,” Elias replied. “Death wouldn’t free you, and hunger wouldn’t weaken with time. Adrian spent a century teaching the Crown to feed on vampires. I won’t put it inside one willingly.”

Bryony looked at me.

I didn’t offer comfort. She had asked for the risk, and she deserved the whole answer.

“We don’t turn you while the Crown is attached,” I said.

“Agreed.”

The complete method sat between us. It was simple enough to remember and dangerous enough that forgetting would have been kinder.

Bryony had to enter water cold enough to slow a vampire’s healing. She had to press the Crown against a silver carving while the curse fought her for control. Then she had to cut herself willingly.

I had to open the skin over my heart.

The coronation wound had been small. It still took hours to close because heartblood resisted healing once it had been freely offered. A cleansing might take more than three drops. The Crown would smell every one, and Bryony could drink straight from the cut.

I would have trusted her with my heart without hesitation.

I didn’t trust the thing using her hunger.

The Crown warmed.

Bryony’s breath stopped. Her eyes dropped to the place where my hand still rested over my heart.

I lowered it.

“Hunger?” I asked.

“It liked hearing about heartblood.”

“Do you need distance?”

“I don’t know yet.”

She came towards me.

Mara started to rise. Elias put a hand on her good shoulder and kept her seated.

Bryony stopped with her blouse brushing my shirt. Her pupils widened. The Crown’s points pressed tighter into her hair.

Her hand hovered before it touched me. That pause mattered. The Crown could push hunger into her and show her where my heart beat, but the last inch still belonged to Bryony.

“What is it doing?” I asked.

“Showing me where to bite.” Her fingertips touched my chest. “It knows the shortest way to your heart.”

My body reacted to her touch even while every useful instinct warned me to move. Want had never cared about timing. Fucking inconvenient.

I could have stepped out of reach. I could also have offered my wrist and ended the strain for both of us. Either choice would let me control what happened next, which was exactly what the Crown wanted from me.

So I stayed where I was and paid attention to her hand. It held my shirt without pulling me closer. Her thumb moved once against the cloth, following the beat under it.

“Do you want my blood?”

“Yes.”

“Take it now?”