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I look down at her features, so peaceful and exquisite. She has a perfectly oval-shaped face, with arched brows and a strong, elegant nose. Full cheeks, sharp cheekbones, lush dusky-rose lips.
I shake my head in disbelief as I carry her out of my office, heading for the tower.I willnotsuccumb to temptation and drain her of every last drop of her heady essence.
As tempting as she is, it’s like grazing for delicious morsels of food on a full stomach. Now that my hunger is quenched, she’s a delight to the senses, nothing more.
I won’teverlose control to that extent.
I’ve got brutal decades of military training beneath me. Unlike my brother, I’ve waged the grinding campaigns. I’ve bled and fought alongside my men. I’ve dug trenches and waded through the mud and the sludge and the corpses.
I’ve done it before—used my ability to kill men by tearing out their throats and draining their blood. I can be fast and savage and remorseless in the heat of battle. I’ve known what it’s like to overpower amortalwith my monstrous strength and hold him down; to feel his fear and desperation, quickly giving way to helplessness as I lull him into a thrall, until he understands that all he can do is submit.
At least they die gently, willingly; not in agony.
Butthis…with her…
I have enough self-discipline to overcome this, surely.
I don’t completely understand what I am, but I know what I’m capable of.
What makes me so certain I won’t do it to her?
No. I won’t.
Nother.
I shoot down the hallways, reaching the entrance to Vinciel’s tower in the span of several heartbeats, andherheartbeat is loud in my ears; slow and steady in spite of her condition.
It reassures me.
In the time it takes to blink, I’ve climbed the stairs.
There are many days that I despise the curse for what it has turned me into, but one thing I never lament is my newfound speed.
And I find myself using it more and more, and sometimes I don’t realize I’m doing it until I catch the startled reactions of people around me.
It just starts to become more and more natural, to the point where it’s like breathing.
“Ciel,” I bellow, having learned from past mistakes. The medic doesn’t like surprises like me.
I hear a commotion; hasty movements, the rustle of cloth, bare feet on the floor. They’re coming not from the main room, but from Ciel’s quarters off to the side.
I enter the large chamber, where Ciel does most of his work when he isn’t out in the field or in the castle clinic. The stone floors and the steel operating table are spotless; there isn’t a single trace of the lad’s blood from the day before.
The entire place has been scrubbed clean and doused with an astringent herbal concoction that strips my sensitive nose from the inside out, dulling evenheroverpowering scent.
Ciel emerges from his quarters, hastily pulling his quilted velvet robes around him. The deep emerald color is luxurious, but the fabric is worn and almost threadbare in places. Like me, Ciel has a habit of using things over and over until they’re no longer fit for purpose.
Military habit, I suppose.
His long blonde hair is damp and unbound. He hastily retrieves his glasses from his breast-pocket and puts them on.
Blue eyes narrow as he takes us in. “You’re in the shit now, Corvan.”
I detect a hint of amusement in his voice.
I cross the room and gently deposit Finley into a big mustard-gold velvet armchair. “Shut up and take a look at her, Ciel. I’m very low on patience right now, so don’t test it.”
“Always at your service, Your Highness.” Ciel offers me a sardonic bow. He crosses the room and presses his slender fingers against Finley’s neck, feeling her pulse. “Even if Iwasin the midst of enjoying the rare luxury of a warm bath with a glass of wine and a copy ofBelladonna’slatest novel. You could have gone to the clinic, you know. Kagan’s just as experienced as I am when it comes to the common presentations, if not more so.”
