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“Yes. Much like the woman they were made for.”

I looked up to see Maximillian’s gaze fixed on my mouth, and for a second, I wondered if he was thinking about what it would be like if I allowed him to lick the blood off my skin instead.

Warmth pooled in my lower belly at the thought, and I hastily removed my finger from my mouth. “I meant to give these to you before we left, but the blacksmith delivered them only hours before we set off for the Summit,” he told me. “I know they aren’t your preferred weapon, but if anyone catches you with a silver stake on your person, our ruse will be exposed. The daggers will at least allow you to defend yourself if you find yourself in a precarious position.” He gave me a wry look.

“I love them,” I told him, and I meant it. The knives were a beautiful gift, but also very thoughtful. They weren’t ideal for vampire slaying—the blades weren’t large enough for a beheading, and it was more difficult to drive them through the breastbone and into the heart than a stake was. But wounds inflicted on vampires with silver blades were slow to heal, andwould buy me time if a hungry attendee decided to ignore the rules and take a bite out of me. “Do they come with any sheaths or holsters? If I try to put these in my pocket, they’re going to cut right through my skirts.”

Maximillian smiled. “The throwing knives are retractable, but the larger blades come with sheaths. They’re at the bottom of the box.”

I removed the daggers and the padding beneath them, unearthing the leather straps and sheaths. I grinned when I noticed that two of them were thigh sheaths, and planted my foot on the bench so I could slip one of them up my leg. I fumbled with the buckles as I tried to adjust the leather band, but it was too wide, and it kept slipping down.

“Here.” Maximillian said as I bit my lip in frustration. “Let me help.”

He got down on one knee beside the bench, and my heart stuttered as he took my foot in his hand. His touch was gentle as he slid his hand up the side of my leg, carefully pushing up the white lace of my nightgown to expose my thigh. Transfixed, I watched as he deftly grasped the strap, his long fingers working the leather and metal until the sheath was snugly fixed to my thigh.

“Is that comfortable?” he asked.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The warmth in my lower belly had spread to my core, turning into a molten, pulsing sensation that sent a tremor running through my legs. His wickedly handsome face was far too close to the source of my need, to the nexus of nerves that had awoken, and a sudden urgeto fist my hand in his storm cloud hair and use his mouth to soothe that ache seized me.

Before I could act on that insane impulse, he pulled back, then removed a silk handkerchief from his pocket and used it to pick up one of the daggers. My mouth went dry as he tested the balance of the blade with his forefinger, then slowly, carefully slid it into place. I shivered as the cold metal of the handle bit into my heated flesh, but instead of dousing my desire, the contrasting sensation only stoked the flames higher.

Maximillian sucked in a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring as he scented my desire. He lifted his head, and as our eyes met, I saw those same flames reflected in his burning gaze. I knew in that moment that if he pulled me down and pinned me to the ground with his big, hard body, that I would allow him to do just about anything he wanted.

And while I wanted that, part of me was terrified by the thought.

But with a blink of his sooty lashes, the lust in Maximillian’s eyes vanished as though it had never been. In the next second, he was on his feet again, placing my foot on the bench and allowing my nightgown to fall back into place. Something cold rushed through my veins as he put space between us, and my heart dropped at the chagrined look that flashed through his eyes before a mask slipped over his features, cutting off all emotion.

“Sleep well,” he said, inclining his head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

And with that, he left me standing there, heart racing, hands fisted at my sides, torn between the desire to run after him and the need to bury myself in the bedcovers and never come out again.

20

Kitana

It was really late when I tiptoed into the mortuary, wrapped up in my shadows like a secret cloak. They made my steps quiet and kept me hidden from the guards who watched the night.

All the Nocturne Clan, even my foster mother, was asleep. But I couldn’t understand how they could sleep after such awful news.

I walked up to the metal table where my mama lay. She looked so peaceful, wearing a simple white dress. I didn't want to look at the hurts still on her.

My throat hurt as I held her hand. It was really cold and felt different. The Grand Matron tried to make her look better, but there were still tiny marks where she got hurt.

It's been just a month since Mama went away. A month since my foster mama brought me to her house, a month since Mamaleft and promised to come back. But she came back in a way we didn't want.

Tears came down my face, and I pressed my lips together, trying to stay quiet. The shadow watch found Mama this morning. Someone had sucked all the blood out of her body, then chopped her into little pieces and stuck her in a horrible box. The birds found her first, and that's how the shadow watch knew something was wrong.

My little cat, Jinx, came and rubbed against my legs, meowing. But I couldn't pick her up, because I didn't want to let go of Mama's hand. I didn't want to stop looking at her, not when I knew they were going to burn her up tomorrow, and I would never get to look at her again.

The door made a noise, and my foster mama, Astrid, came in. Her hair was all over, and she wore her robe. "Kitana?" she said. "Oh, dear, you should've woken me if you couldn't sleep."

"I didn't want you," I told her. "I wanted my Mama."

Astrid stopped, and I looked back at Mama. I knew what I said sounded mean, but it was true. I didn't want to live with Astrid, or go to that school where they make me try magic stuff that I can’t do. I don't like when the other kids stare or whisper about me.

I just wanted my Mama.

But she's not here now. It’s just her body, and that’s not the same.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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