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His narrow mouth quirks at the corner, a half-smile that boils my blood. There is no pity in his gaze, no trace of regret in his inhuman features. I should have seen it before. I should have…

“I once told you it had taken me centuries to learn the necessity of restraint,” Iestyn says. “But it is a lesson I have needed to relearn more times than I can count. Even I am not immune to impulse. Even I can slip. And slip I did, that day in the church.” He shakes his head. “I was waiting for you, Alderose. I needed your blood—the blood of a bride on the morning of her wedding. But as I lurked in the rafters, waiting for your arrival, I was overtaken by a need I could not ignore.”

“Henry,” I choke out.

“His blood was so heady, so rich. I could smell it from where I waited. I felt it, hot and pulsating, stirred by the thought of his bride.” Iestyn flits his tongue over his lips, wetting the dried blood with saliva. “The things he wanted to do to you… Those carnal pleasures, the knowing of flesh… It was too much. We all have our appetites, and in that moment, I found I couldn’t deny mine. I surrendered to it, and though I could only take but a taste of him…oh, it was worth it.”

I snatch my rapier from where it fell, my knuckles white as I tighten my grip around the hilt. This is what I’ve been waiting for. This is what I needed to hear. But now I have heard it, the words wash over me, leaving me numb.

I have found Henry’s killer. But I have lost myself.

Iestyn’s smile tenses as he eyes the point of my rapier. “Let me help you, Alderose. I can take the pain away. All this meaningless suffering… I can make you forget. Isn’t that what you want? Don’t you wish to be free?”

It would be so easy to accept it, to let him turn me into the monster I already am. I wouldn’t have to carry this agony in me like a tumour. I would finally be able to let Henry go. All I have to say is yes.

“What I wish,” I whisper, “is for you to die.”

I lunge with my rapier, swinging wildly. I am not in control of my body—my head is dull, my limbs heavy. This isn’t a poised attack, it is a lashing out, a desperate attempt to make him hurt like I have.

The silver scores his face with a hiss. A bloody line opens from his brow to his chin, red droplets oozing from his pale, dead flesh. Already, the skin around the wound is blackening before my eyes, the tissue turning necrotic from the silver.

Iestyn jerks back. It is the first time I have seen him flinch.

He touches his fingers to his face and smiles. “Oh, you sweet, foolish girl.”

I scramble to bring up my rapier once more, but he is too quick. The blade flies from my fingers, clattering against the floor. Then Iestyn is on me, his hand clasping mine, our grips interlocking as he pushes me against the wall. The brick is rough against my spine as he leans against me in a twisted embrace.

He finds my other hand and entwines my fingers with his. His chest presses against mine, the chill of his skin percolating through me. He is close enough to share the same breath, if only such a creature needed to breathe. The ridges of our noses meet, our mouths brushing.

“You should have said yes,” he murmurs. “But fear not, dear Alderose. When this is over, you won’t remember a thing. I promise.”

He draws back his lips, exposing his fangs. They glint in the dim light, curving into frightful points.

It is over. I have lost. Everything I’ve done, all the good I carved out of me, all the blood on my hands… It’s been for nothing.

I’m sorry, Henry. Forgive me.

Iestyn presses his lips against my throat. The kiss is cold. It’s the gentlest he’s ever been with me. The lingering brush of his mouth is almost tender.

Then he sinks his teeth into my neck.

It’s agony. Two hot pinpricks plunge into my flesh, puncturing vein and muscle and tissue. I thrash against Iestyn’s grip, a scream rising in my throat, but I don’t have enough breath to release it. Instead, all that spills from my lips is a pitiful whimper.

I can’t push him away. His fangs are buried in my neck, excruciatingly sharp, holding me in place. He works his lips and tongue against my skin, licking, sucking, drawing my blood into his wanting mouth. I feel him draining it from me. It’s an unbearable pressure that starts in my neck and convulses through my throat, my chest, my heart.

One of his hands finds my collarbone, and I stiffen at the hiss of silver burning his skin. Then something snaps, and my necklace falls to the floor with a distant clink, my wedding ring with it.

It’s the last thing I have of Henry.

“Oh, Alderose.” Iestyn trails his fangs against my neck, his lips cold and wet. “You taste every bit as sweet as he did.”

I can’t answer. He sinks himself into me with a moan, puncturing my throat anew. The pain returns, more unbearable than ever as he laps at my neck, gorging himself on the blood pouring from me. It dribbles down my collarbone, sluicing between my breasts. My tunic is sodden, my leathers splattered crimson.

My legs buckle, and he catches me as I slide to the floor. I can’t take much more. My head is thick and reeling, my vision blurred. I feel weak, weaker than I have ever known.

Iestyn pulls away, and for a fleeting moment, the pain relents. The pressure around my throat is gone, and I find it within me to breathe again.

Then, through the haze, I watch him bite a bloody gouge in his own wrist, and I realise what he means to do.