I sat with my arms folded, facing away from him as the driver took us home.

“Still not speaking to me? Is this the way things are going to be from now on?” He had the nerve to sound amused, the bastard.

After the fool he made out of me, not to mention himself, he had the nerve to think the whole thing was funny.

“You’re too much to be believed,” I muttered, staring out the window.

Look at all the happy humans. If not happy, at least pretending to be. Look how they don’t need a chaperone when they go on a date. Look how they can ask a man home after dinner, like normal people do when they want things to go further.

“This is why High Sorceresses don’t typically date,” he pointed out.

I wanted to claw his eyes out. “Thank you for the history lesson. Maybe they don’t date because they’re usually much older than I am when they’re named coven leader. Did you consider that? My mother had already borne two children by the time she took her place. That time was over for her.”

He was silent as he considered this. “You have a point. Even so, I’m sure there have been instances such as yours. A young witch leading the coven. It’s a vocation.”

“I see. I’m supposed to forget about everything else in favor of my coven.”

“In a word, yes.”

“Unacceptable.” Especially since I had already named myself High Sorceress for the rest of my life.

Holden knew this, even though he wasn’t there for my pronouncement. When I woke him, the High Council had explained the situation. He would serve me for much longer than Nightwardens typically served, because only death would remove me from my position.

What a stupid, thoughtless, petty little bitch I was back then. Less than a year prior, but it might as well have been a lifetime. Instead of a happily-ever-after, I was stuck with the prospect of never having a relationship because the coven would come first until the day I died.

“I still don’t like him. More than ever,” he growled.

“Why? Because he stood up to you?”

“Because there’s something about him that doesn’t seem genuine.”

“You’re biased.”

“I’m experienced,” he corrected. “I’ve seen much more than you have, and I’m telling you this for your own good. Be careful with him. And don’t think for a second that I’ll leave you alone with him.”

“Holden, please. You’re being ridiculous.”

“It’s for your own good.”

“You are not my father,” I warned.

My palms went warm as my temper threatened to get the better of me. A simple flick of the wrist and he’d be dead. Gone. Shut up forever.

I tried again. “I’m trying to be better than I was, but you’re pushing me to my limit.”

“I don’t care about your limits. I care about your well-being. That’s my job. That’s my only job for the rest of your life. And I’m telling you, I won’t let you walk into a situation you’ll regret.”

I didn’t say another word until we got to the penthouse. I was too busy seething.

He did his customary sweep of the space, just in case somebody had broken in while we were out.

When I had a little more control over myself, I asked, “Would you like to feed before you go to your room?”

“Yes.” Just like that, he was my slave.

Or he might as well have been. The mention of feeding turned him into a salivating, single-minded creature who’d do anything I asked as long as he got what he needed from my veins.

I sat on the sofa and held out my wrist to him, which he took in his clawed hands. I turned my head away, so I didn’t have to watch his fangs descend and winced a little when they split my skin. No matter how many times I’d gone through it, I couldn’t get used to that first flash of pain.

Or the sensation of being drained, either. I could feel my life slipping away as he swallowed, again and again, greedy, sucking the blood from my artery as fast as my heart could pump it.

I felt myself getting weak, losing focus. That was always my stopping point.

“Enough,” I said with all the strength I could.

He hesitated for one breathless second—would he let go, or wouldn’t he? Then, he withdrew, his tongue sweeping over his lips to catch the last of the blood on them. It turned my stomach every time.

“Thank you,” he growled as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Of course.” I rose, a little dizzy, and walked in the direction of my bedroom.

“And if you thought I wouldn’t catch the significance of you offering to feed me when you did, you’re wrong.” He was still breathing heavy, but he clearly had his wits about him.

I turned slowly, leaning on a small table to support myself.

I raised my chin. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you needed to remind me who’s in charge. Who needs who more.” He stood, in control of himself again.

It was incredible to watch, really. The way he went from a snarling, bloodthirsty animal to the handsome, self-assured vampire I saw in front of me.

I could’ve argued it. I could’ve wasted my time lying to him. He saw through me so easily thanks to the imprint—easier than ever immediately after he’d fed, too, like he’d downloaded my emotions and intentions with each greedy swallow.

Instead of making myself look foolish, then, I said, “There was nothing Elias could’ve done to keep me here that night, when Kristoff took me. He was a good Nightwarden, and he took his duties seriously. Kristoff was simply someone we never saw coming, and I don’t know whose fault that was. Maybe it was simply Kristoff’s fault for being who he was. There’s nothing you can do to keep me any safer than he did.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” he sneered.

“Yes. You don’t have to listen to me getting ready to go out. You don’t have to check on me while I’m sleeping. You don’t have to prowl around outside a restaurant when I’m on a date. You can relax a little bit. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

He stood there for a long time, his face unreadable. Was he processing or dismissing?

I would never know, since he went to his room without replying.

* * *

It was a different dream that night.

I woke with a start, breathless as always, but for a different reason. The dream was so fresh and vivid,

I looked to the pillow next to me and expected to see him there. I was alone. But it had felt so real. My skin still tingled from his touch, and there were goosebumps up and down my arms and legs. Arms that had held him, legs I had wrapped around him to draw him closer, closer…

I closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to bring it back before I woke up all the way. I had to get back to that place, where it was just us. His powerful body moving over mine, touching me, opening me up to a depth of pleasure I never knew existed. How could I have lived so long without knowing what my body was capable of? But he had known. And he had taken advantage of that knowledge, playing me like an instrument, making me sing.

There was no getting back to it. I consoled myself with the memory and dared to hope that it would become a reality soon. I didn’t know how I’d manage to be alone with him, but it had to happen. It was inevitable.

The way he’d looked at me all through dinner, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. When his hand grazed my shoulder as he helped me with my coat and my knees almost buckled from that one little touch.

It was primal, my desire for him. He thought he was the Big Dog. I would show him a thing or two. The thought of how good we could be together was enough to steal my breath again.

Holden’s scowling face crossed my thoughts and burst my bubble.

I groaned, punching my pillow as I tried to get comfortable again. He wouldn’t be easy to get around, but I’d manage it. I used to sneak past Elias all the time in the early days—then again, he was easier.

He never came out of his room unless I’d asked him to. Holden walked around like he owned the place.

Even so, I would find a way.

Gentry was worth it. At least, he was in my dreams. And hadn’t he already proven just by existing that my dreams had the power to come true?

I fell asleep again with a smile on my face.