My footsteps echoed on the marble floors as I made my way to my suite, anticipation twisting my gut into knots.

The thrall, Nina, was lying on the other side of these doors, ready and waiting for me.

What would I say to her?

God, what was I going to do with her?

I hadn’t thought this through at all.

With a deep breath, I pushed open the door and walked inside.

The first room served as a living room, where she was sitting on the couch with her hands clasped in her lap, gazing down at them. Was she trembling, or was that my imagination?

The longer I stared at her, the more certain I was that I knew her from somewhere. She was familiar to me, and yet not. Her scent was foreign, but those eyes… I knew those eyes.

I crossed the room and placed a finger under her chin, lifting her face so she was forced to look at me. With narrowed eyes, I gazed into hers.

“Do I know you?” It was a demand, and not a kind one. Internally, I winced at my own tone, but I couldn’t help myself. I sensed trickery, and I wasn’t going to have that.

“I’m sure I’d remember meeting someone like you, My Lord,” she said, her voice demure as she cast her eyes aside, though her face was still upturned toward me.

A slow growl built in my chest, and her eyes snapped back to me—wide and frightened.

I was being too rough with her, but I couldn’t bring myself to calm down.

I knew her. I just didn’t know how.

In silence, we continued to look at one another. It took her a second, but then her gaze began to dart over me. To my hair, my nose, my lips, my chest, my...

I cleared my throat, and her eyes darted back up to mine. There was a slight blush in her tawny skin.

Why did I feel a rush of victory that she'd taken notice of me?

Why did I care?

I shouldn’t care. She was a thrall. A tool, in truth. Food. Cattle.

She was nothing, and yet she was a conundrum I had to solve. There was something off about her, and I needed to know what it was.

Perhaps I can solve that particular puzzle after I taste her lips...

No.

No matter how much she might call to me, no matter that her blood sang to me in a way I hadn’t experienced before, no matter that her heart was racing and her chest was heaving and all I wanted to do was kneel before her and steal a kiss...

No matter any of that. I knew the rules.

Thralls served one purpose, and one purpose alone: feeding. They weren’t to be touched.

Of course, not everyone followed those rules.

A vampire was supposed to be incapable of finding interest in anyone but their mate. At least, that was what we were told. From what I had seen, a vampire wasn't above using a thrall for an hour of pleasure if it suited him.

I would never do such a thing.

If I didn’t intend to touch her, and I had no interest in feeding on a thrall—for that hadn’t changed—then why had I chosen her?

And yet, like a beast inside me, a growl built at the very idea of another vampire feeding on her.

Unacceptable.

I wouldn’t allow it.

You could have simply forbade her being Chosen at all, if that was all you cared about.

Pointedly, I ignored that thought.

I was being selfish. I wanted her, but I wouldn’t take her.

“You're certain we have never met?”

She shook her head, her soft cheek brushing against my finger like fire passing across my skin.

I curled my fingers to caress her cheek with the back of my hand.

To my surprise, her eyes drifted closed, and she leaned in to the touch.

Did she desire me as well?

Stupidly, hope flared in my chest.

It doesn’t matter. You can’t have her.

Right. The rules were in place for a reason. And it would be unfair to whomever I mated in the future if I took someone else to bed.

“Have you been given all you require?” I asked, watching her carefully.

She didn’t respond.

I withdrew my hand. “Nina?”

“Hmm?”

I frowned. Had she been...distracted? No, that didn’t make sense.

“Do you have everything you require?”

She blinked, then matched my frown. “What would I require?”

I took a step back, gesturing as I spoke. “Food, clothing, books. I don’t know.”

She laughed. “I'm already clothed, aren't I?”

The sound of her laughter was like a balm to my soul.

I shook my head. “That's...not quite what I meant.”

Curiosity crept through her expression. “What did you mean?”

“Do you need anything?”

“I thought I was supposed to be the one taking care of you.”

“I...” I began, but I couldn’t figure out what to say in response to that. She was right: she was the thrall and I the master. She was here to feed me. And yet, I wanted her to be comfortable.

Especially since I had no intention of feeding from her. It was too much, too intimate. I couldn’t trust myself not to touch her if I got a taste of her blood, I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Would it be so wrong to have just a taste?

Yes. Yes, it would be. It wouldn’t end at just a taste. I wouldn’t be able to hold back, wouldn’t be able to stop.

And I was a master of restraint, so what did that say about her?

I let my gaze drift over her, from head to toe, and did my best not to linger anywhere untoward.

This was a very bad idea, indeed.

“Good night,” I said abruptly, and turned and walked into my room.