I find myself in another room I haven’t visited before: a den or office. There are a couple of bookcases against the back wall and a big wooden desk in front of it. Behind the desk, Alexander sits like a king on a throne. He nods to the seats in front of him, and Sebastian and I sit. Alexander tosses a file onto the desk and slides it over to the edge, near where I sit.

I pick it up. “What’s this?” I open it.

“This is Markus King. The elder. My master and also Sebastian’s...indirectly.”

Sebastian shifts in his seat. We haven’t yet talked about his brother being his master, and I’m not sure how eager I am to discuss it. Why didn’t he tell me before?

I run my fingers over the photo of Markus. He isn’t what I had imagined. In my mind, I pictured someone like Dracula on screen: tall, pale, and villainous. Instead, he’s a guy in his mid-thirties with dark hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes, and a flawless face with high cheekbones and hooded eyebrows that hang low enough to shield the tops of his eyes.

I move the photograph aside and see a stapled stack of pages. I feel like an assassin given a target’s file, like Adrian Clark in The Slayer’s Art. There’s one badass lady with a purpose. I suppose I’m not so dissimilar from her right now. The thought both frightens and excites me. Who’d have thought? Certainly not me.

The excitement dies quickly.

I’m going to kill this man. It makes my stomach ache to finally put a human face to the vampire.

“Does he hurt people?”

Alexander laughs. “He has no regard for human life. Don’t develop a conscience on me. Isn’t this what hunters live for? The kill?”

I know this is true. I’ve felt it on occasion like a repressed emotion lingering inside of me, somewhere near the surface, waiting to break free when my guard is down. That desire hit me when I fought Alexander in the hall. It surprised me, but given the situation, I was grateful because it made me fight harder. I also felt this urge when I killed the young vampire, even though I still feel conflicted about taking his life. I don’t think he was all bad, and I don’t believe he was a killer. Now, he’s dead because I wanted to...what? Test myself? Force my magic out of hiding? I’m ashamed when I think about him. I need Alexander to confirm Markus is awful in order to feel better about plotting to take his life.

I slump in my seat and read through his details.

Human age: 31

Vampire age: Unknown

Born: Unknown

Birth Place: Unknown

Children: At last count, twenty-six.

“That seems low. Twenty-six?” I look up for confirmation.

Sebastian shakes his head. “Not at all. Some elders have only turned a handful. They don’t like humans. They have to really take a shine to one to give them the gift of immortality.”

They don’t like humans. How could that be? “But they were angels.”

They both look at me as if to say, ‘what’s your point?’

I keep reading.

Occupation: Art Dealer

Residence (known): 412 Chester Street, Stratford, Ontario

“Why do you have ‘known’ by his residence in brackets?” It’s as if he has many. Why put it in at all?

“Vampires don’t disclose their…resting place, only their home for appearances’ sake,” Sebastian explains.

“Do you both live here?” I glance back and forth between them.

“No. When we rest, it’s in a location no one else knows about—not even family.” Sebastian glances at his brother. “We’re vulnerable when we finally sleep, so we can’t risk getting staked.”

“I assumed you didn’t sleep.” Because you watch me.

“Not much. When we do, it’s deep and restful,” Sebastian says.

I file that away for later. Telling each other where they rest seems like the ultimate confirmation of trust, and they haven’t told one another. That speaks volumes. I keep reading the file. It covers what Markus does on a daily basis, where he eats, where he buys his clothing and groceries and alcohol. It also lists a number of human women he keeps regular company with, then his staff, all seven of them, all women, likely all young and beautiful. And a list of over a dozen security guards.

They sit quietly while I absorb it all, going over each detail more than once. There is so much information in here, and I’m not sure what to do with it.

“What now?” I ask.

Sebastian and I look at Alexander.

“There’s an art exhibit in Ottawa in three days. All signs indicate he’ll be there to purchase a piece of art from an up-and-coming artist.”

“How do you know this?”

“He’s my master. He keeps in touch.”

“Oh.”

“You’ll go to the exhibit, and you’ll flirt with him. Not too hard. He doesn’t like easy women. He likes them demure, innocent. You need to convince him to spend more time with you. Perhaps, tell him you took a cab and wait for him to offer you a ride home. You’ll accept, and then he’ll suggest he take the long way because he wants to spend more time with you.” Alexander rolls his eyes. “He’ll end up either convincing you to go home with him or taking you if you want to go or not. His routine is always the same. The only time it differs is when women are brought to him and, of course, the prostitutes he regularly employs to donate fresh blood. That’s the plan. But I suggest you find a way to get him to bite you before he takes you back to his home. There could be other vampires there, and it’ll make it harder to get you out.”

I gulp. He seems so sure of his plan, but he gets to sit here safely while I risk my life. One vampire would be hard enough, but now he tells me there could be others. My chances of surviving are getting less and less. “You want to do this three days from now?”

“Yes.” Alexander nods.

“It sounds like you already had this planned, whether I learned to use my magic or not.”

He shrugs. “Your safety matters to my brother, not me. I couldn’t care less about your magic.”

I can’t be upset by his callousness. He’s made his feelings about me perfectly clear. And I can’t say I enjoy him any more than he enjoys me.

“I’ll have my assistant book the flights. You’ll leave tomorrow so you can get familiar with the site and the area.”

Since when does he have an assistant?

“Sebastian will go with you. Of course, I’ll have to stay here. If Markus sees me or senses me without summoning me, he’ll suspect something is up. We’re friendly, but he trusts no one. Not even his children.”

“With good reason...” My voice trails off.

Alexander growls at me as his eyes flame.

Touch a nerve?

“I’ll need some things,” I say.

“Of course. Sebastian can take you shopping in Ontario. Buy what you need.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he says with a forced grin. “I’ve had many lifetimes to accumulate wealth. I have more money than I can ever spend. Feel free to use some of it.”

“And you?” Is Sebastian just as rich?

Sebastian winks at me. “I’m just the help.”

---

Later that night, I’m in my room brushing my teeth when Sebastian enters without knocking. He appears in the bathroom doorway, giving me a start. I frown at him but don’t pull out the brush to scold him. It would hardly change anything anyway.

“Put on some clothes. I’m taking you out.”

“I have clothes on,” I say, my words jumbled from the brush and the toothpaste and saliva still sitting on my teeth. I look down at the boxers and oversized jersey shirt he loaned me.

“You’ve been cooped up here for weeks, and you deserve a break from all of this.”

I pull out the brush and spit in the sink. “Really?” I fight a smile. The thought of doing something different speaks to every inch of my soul. Before, if I had free time I would have read a book, but now I just want to get out of here. I have so much tension in my neck and shoulders it sometimes hurt to move. “Where do you want to go?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I have to know so I can pick the right clothes.”

He scoffs at me. “Just throw on whatever. I’ll wait downstairs.”

“What about your brother?” I ask warily.

“He’s gone to rest. I don’t imagine we’ll see him before we leave tomorrow afternoon.”

Well, that is good news. For a moment, I thought he might tag along. As much as I would have tolerated it, I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy myself as much as I would with Sebastian alone.

Alone with Sebastian. “Sebastian?” I peer around the bathroom door. He’s still visible in the hall. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

“Do you want it to be?”

I bite my lip a moment, unsure of what to say. I know I shouldn’t, but ‘yes’ is the immediate reply that comes to my head. It’s wrong for so many reasons: the way we came to know one another, for one. And he’s a vampire, and I’m a hunter. But none of that matters to me. This second, I want to go out with him and enjoy him without any of this supernatural crap that hangs over my head like a dark cloud.

He flashes me a mischievous smile. “I’ll let you off the hook. It’s not a date.”

Thankfully, he disappears before he can see the frown that falls on my face.

I have few options for clothing since I doubt wherever we’re going requires a cocktail dress. As I debate wearing the same clothes I had on earlier, one of the maids knocks on the open door, carrying folded laundry in her arms.

“For you, ma’am.”

“It’s just Emily.” I tell them this all the time, but they continue to address me formally. I take the laundry, and she walks away. I’m about to call out to her. These aren’t my—I mean, Cassandra’s clothes. I take them to the bed and unfold the shirt on top, a tunic. Cotton. I hug it to my chest and sigh. It’s still warm. And it looks brand new. Next in the pile is a pair of black leggings, just my size, then folded underwear and a bra. I’ve been going without one because I barely need one to begin with, and it wasn’t as if I’d ever fit into Cassandra’s lacy barely-theres. Thirty-four B—my size. Someone shopped for me and washed the clothes. I’ll have to find out who so I know who to thank.

Sebastian waits for me in the foyer, sitting on a fancy, intricately carved bench near the door. He’s scrolling through his phone when I bound down the stairs in my casual clothes and Cassandra’s knee-high boots.

He smiles up at me warmly, his pale cheeks almost—but not quite—showing color.

“Was this you?” I pick at the soft fabric on my chest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s still grinning, though he tries to hide it.

“Uh huh. Come on, vampire. Show me a good time.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “Was that all it took to win your affection? Some pajamas?”

“These are fashionable.” I feign annoyance.

“I miss the days when women dressed like women.”

“Hate to disappoint you, but those days are over. And you’re supposed to tell a girl she looks nice when you see her.”

“You look nice.” Though I doubt he means it, he seems sincere. “No, really, you look…content.”

I look at my boots as my cheeks flare. In this moment, I am content. I never thought I would be, here in this house, spending time with this vampire, but as the end draws near, my chest tightens. If I manage to make it through the next few days, he and I will likely go our separate ways and never see each other again. I’ll return to my sister, and then…then what? Forget what I am? That life doesn’t feel real anymore. No, I know what I need to do: everything in my power to find my family and claim my identity.

“Ready?”

He nods and waves his hand toward the door. “After you.”

He takes me to the nearby town of Digby, where we pull over to the curb in front of a two-story brick building with windows in the front and a big sign above a heavy wooden door that reads “The Porthole.” The building sits near the waterfront with a glorious view of the ocean and ships bobbing in the harbor and against the small jetty, while the falling sun on the horizon kisses the ocean with a hint of pink and red.

I haven’t heard of this place before. I’ve actually never been to Digby before, so I’m curious to try it out. The door has a circular hole that I can’t see through because of the dim light on the other side. But I can already hear the sound of traditional Irish music.

Sebastian pulls the door open for me, and the music grows louder, the fiddle and harmonica sounds cutting through the night. I don’t even know what day it is because all my days are so similar they tend to blend, but from the crowd, it must be a weekend or a special occasion.

Most of the circular, wood tables are occupied, but Sebastian finds us one in the corner, not far from where the band plays. There’s a small dance floor in front of it with locals up and doing a jig. My toe is tapping the moment I sit down.

“This is great,” I say, a little louder than normal, though it doesn’t matter with him. I could whisper and he’d still hear me. “How did you know I liked this music?”

He hitches a shoulder. “Took a chance…and it’s the only bar in town.” His smile is contagious, big and bright with a twinkle in his eye. It doesn’t take long for the waitress to come by. Sebastian doesn’t order anything but vodka on ice, and I order the captain’s platter with every one of their fried appetizers included on a massive plate. I also order a beer.

I want to talk to him, but it’s hard with the music. Fortunately, they take a break a few minutes later, and I turn toward Sebastian a little and focus on him while I think of what to say. I’ve never been great around guys. Sebastian was different because I didn’t care if I impressed him or not—at least, not until recently. I’m not sure when things changed—I guess when I got to know him. He isn’t the monster I thought him to be. There are layers of him that are hard and cold, but there are others that are surprising: the way he worries for me, the way he stands up to his brother, even at his own expense. Those unselfish moments mean the world to someone like me, who can count on her hand the number of people who’ve truly cared for me in my lifetime.

“Tell me about you before I found you.” His gaze is intense.

Hmm. “I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t very interesting at all. I told you about being adopted, and that’s a big part of my life. My parents were loving and attentive, and they made it really easy to love them. Same with Kara.”

“Ah, yes, the sister.” He frowns.

“She might have been difficult when she was held prisoner, but what do you expect?”

He looks away and briefly raises his eyebrows. When he focuses on me again, his face is a little more pleasant, eager. “Tell me more.”

“Um... My parents owned a bookstore, and when they died, they left it to Kara and me. We work in the store six days a week and live in the same house I lived in growing up. I run in my free time and read. But that’s all there is. I live a very boring life.”

“Not anymore.”

I muse at the thought. “No. Not anymore.”

“Did you have a boyfriend?”

I laugh even harder. “No. Guys were never really into me. I was quiet and kept to myself. I had a best friend, but she moved away a few years ago to go to college, and she hasn’t been back. We talk sometimes, but she found someone I’m pretty sure she’ll marry, and she spends most of her time with him.” I’m happy for Claire. I really am. But forgetting your friends because of a boyfriend is something we admonished other girls for. We swore it’d never happen to us. The last time we communicated was a quick text a few months ago when she texted me to say happy birthday.

He shakes his head, as if confused. “It’s still very hard for me to imagine a hunter living as you did. Penelope was…chaotic.”

“Chaotic? I can’t tell from your expression if that’s a good or bad thing.”

He frowns, sighs, and opens his mouth, but the waitress arrives with our drinks, so he quiets and scrutinizes her weathered face. I take a long draw of my beer while she places his vodka on the table. Only when she’s gone does he continue talking.

“I’m not sure if it was good or bad. Probably bad.” He chuckles. “But I’d gotten used to it. She was an amazing hunter, but she often bit off more than she could chew. More than once, I had to help her escape from some pretty sticky situations. I would tell her off, but I’d always stand by her.”

“You helped her kill vampires?” I keep my voice quiet.

He nods. “Many.”

“Even when you knew you’d be tortured for it if found out?”

“I never would have walked away from her.” He casts his eyes down to his drink and swirls his glass. The ice clinks against the sides.

He loved her, probably loves her still. I bite at my lip as I think of that, feeling a twinge of jealousy, even though it’s foolish. I’m her, yet I’m not. To him, I’ll likely always be a ghost of her, similar but never the real thing. When the thought hits me, I want to push it away. It means I’m feeling things I shouldn’t. Again.

I bite my lip as I press my hand to the table and watch his handsome face. His eyes are cast down, and he’s quiet. Slowly, I slide my hand across the wood and cover his hand in mine to offer him comfort. I hold my breath, unsure of how he’ll respond. When he looks up at me, I swallow hard, and butterflies dance in my stomach as he turns his hand over to hold mine. He might run cold, but warmth floods my body, covering me like a warm blanket. His aura flames golden. His cockiness is gone. In its place, I find tenderness and vulnerability, melting the walls I erected to protect my heart.

The music starts again, a song with a catchy, up-beat tempo.

“Let’s dance,” he says.

“What?”

“Come on.” He pulls me out of my seat.

“I can’t dance!” I say.

“Neither can I.”

I somehow doubt that. People stand in two lines facing one another, dancing to the beat of their own drums. Many just kind of bob, not doing anything difficult or special. I follow their lead because one skill I lack to the nth degree is dancing. Meanwhile, Sebastian moves like a pro, mastering the jig like he invented it. I can’t even follow his feet. I smile and laugh, my cheeks flushed, and I bat him away as he takes my hands and tries to encourage me to follow along. In the end, I submit, and I’m tripping over my own feet. I don’t know how long we stay on the dance floor—four songs, maybe ten? It feels like forever and seconds at the same time, if that’s even possible.

When he leads me to the table, my captain’s plate waits for me. He watches me with rapt attention while I devour the whole thing, dipping each item in every dipping sauce the server gave me. The hotter ones are best. It’s not a good experience unless the back of your throat feels like it’s closing from spiciness.

“Is your leg hollow?” he asks, his face serious, though I know he’s joking.

I nudge him with my elbow. “Everything you feed me at that house is raw or too fancy. I’m a simple girl with simple tastes. Just throw something in the fryer, or make me a sandwich, and I’m happy.”

“I’ll let the cook know.”

I nudge him again. “Where did you learn how to dance? Please tell me you didn’t invent it?”

“No, I certainly didn’t.”

“It’s your turn now. Tell me about you. Before and after.”

“After I turned, you mean?”

“Mmhmm.” I pluck the last perogie from my plate and soak it in sour cream and Sriracha before shoving it in my mouth.

“Later. When we’re alone.”

I shrug. “Okay.” I’m not sure why he doesn’t want to tell me now. I glance around to see if there is anyone suspicious—perhaps one of his kind—but see no one. It’s easy to spot one in a crowd now that they glow like they’re on fire. “Maybe we have a few more drinks, and then we leave…”

“Can’t wait, huh? Want all of my secrets?”

I stare at him seriously. “Yes.”

“Why wait?”

Sebastian leaves money on the table, and as we weave through the growing crowd, he reaches out to take my hand to lead me to the door. I don’t hesitate, and though his hand is cold in mine, he gently heats my core, and it radiates everywhere else.

There is a liquor store a few buildings down, and he buys a couple of bottles of wine. We walk to the waterfront and turn down to the beach. It’s fall but still warm. The sun is gone, but the moon sits low and full overhead, and it’s bright enough to cut through the dark. Even if it couldn’t, my own light and Sebastian’s would be enough. We find a fallen tree by some random rocks and take a seat. The wood is damp, but he removes his jacket and lays it down for me to sit on. I want to protest and tell him to keep it, but it’s not as if he can get any colder.

“Thanks.”

A seagull sits in the water, fluttering its wings before it flaps away.

“My pleasure. You’ve done nothing but break bones the last few weeks, so I thought you deserved it.”

“That’s kind of you.” I eye him sideways as a smile touches my lips.

“Not all vampires are bad.”

“Not totally bad.” I lean toward him to touch my shoulder to his. He pushes back lightly until we’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, neither of us choosing to move away. For the first time in a long while, I’m able to forget about everything but this tiny piece of the world and this moment. I heave a sigh and let all the other stuff melt away.

“Let’s hear it. Tell me your story.”

He chuckles. “It’s not as exciting as yours.”

“I’ll bet!”

“I…was born in Norway in nine hundred and fourteen.”

I snap my head in his direction like he’s announced he’s also an alien. “You’re a Viking?”

He shrugs.

How many fantasies have I had about Vikings over the years? The show Viking Warrior is one of my favorites, and Ragnar might just be the most heavenly man on Earth. Why did he have to tell me that? It makes me even more attracted to him.

“My father was a farmer, and I suppose we were meant to follow in his footsteps, but Alexander had other ideas. Life was hard, and our chief was set on traveling to distant lands for wealth. My brother was only too happy to go and to fight alongside him.”

“And you?”

“Not at first. But I was big and strong, and the chief demanded it. I didn’t have much taste for everything that came with the raids. We did some terrible things to a lot of innocent people. I’m not proud to say I watched them burn a whole town to the ground, and while the rest of my clan was celebrating their spoils... I left them. I didn’t want any of it. I started a new life in what is now called Ireland.”

I can’t imagine what life was like back then. It’s hard enough for me to picture it, so I don’t feel the need to judge. I only concentrate on the fact that he walked away rather than continue hurting other people. This information alone is enough to for me to decide what’s in his heart is what I suspected—good.

“I was there for several years before I saw any of my family again. It was Alexander who found me in a tavern—only he wasn’t the brother I remembered. His eyes had always been brown, and when I first saw him from across the bar, his eyes were like the color of the sky. I almost thought it wasn’t him. His skin was different too...and his hair. Flawless. Silky.”

“He was a vampire.”

Sebastian nods. He pauses a long moment, stretches his arms out behind him, and leans back. I find myself falling into the curve of his shoulder.

“I expected him to be angry and to kill me for my cowardice, but he didn’t. He came home with me that night, pretending nothing was wrong and he couldn’t be happier to see me. And then…without warning, he lunged for me, and drank all but the very last drop of my blood. I felt myself dying, the pull of afterlife reaching for me…until a single drop of his blood fell onto my tongue and slithered down my throat like a snake.”

“That’s how you turn?”

“Yes. Only I didn’t ask for this, and he didn’t care if I wanted it or not. He had to leave our family when he became a vampire, and since I had already done the same, he decided he wouldn’t spend eternity alone. He would spend it with me.”

“He didn’t ask if you wanted this?”

He chuckles at the thought, but there is no humor there. “No. He did not. He told me to thank him for making me stronger. Nothing could hurt me now, and I’d never have a reason to run away again.”

“Your brother’s an asshole.”

He laughs out loud, and the noise echoes off the water. A sheen of white light covers a large space in front of us as clouds part, and the moonlight hits the surface of the water.

“He is.”

“And he’s your master.”

“He’s that, too.”

I clear my throat and gather my hair to let it hang loosely over one shoulder. While playing with the ends, sliding locks between my thumb and finger, I dig deep to say what I wanted to say before. “If you asked me to kill—”

“Don’t say it. If he asks me if you’re a threat to him, he’ll make me tell him the truth.”

What kind of a brother could do what he did to Sebastian? He didn’t turn him for Sebastian’s sake. He did it selfishly, to make sure he was never alone. The man isn’t capable of love, which makes me think there’s no good inside of him at all.

“Do you love him? Do you have any familial feelings for him whatsoever, or do you feel trapped like he does?”

Sebastian considers this as he grabs a rock and leans to the side to chuck it at the water. It skips along, hopping at least five times. I lose count after that because it continues into the darkness.

“You once said your sister is all you have. Well, I understand that feeling all too well.”

“You’re not at all who I thought you were,” I say softly.

“Yeah? Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“It’s very good.”

I stare into his beautiful eyes and swallow a hard lump in my throat. Slowly, he leans forward and raises a hand as if uncertain of what to do with it. He inches it forward until it’s near my cheek and then he waits for permission. I close my eyes and welcome it. I feel his cool temperature before I feel the light pressure of his porcelain-smooth skin on my warm cheek. The difference in our heat levels makes me shiver, but it’s not only from the cold. It’s from my growing feelings and the tap-dancing butterflies in my stomach that make my whole body come alive with electricity. I lick my lips and bite my lower one, waiting for a kiss that doesn’t come. Disappointed, I open my eyes to find his eyes everywhere but on my face. “Can you see me?” I ask, referring to my light. I don’t know how it's possible, but I know the answer before he responds.

“You’re lighting up the whole beach.” He cups the back of my neck and pulls me forward. Our lips collide, and a slight groan escapes me, giving away my hunger for this and more. The electricity radiating through me funnels to my core, to the sweet spot between my legs.

We break apart, our foreheads touching, and I gasp for air. There’s getting kissed, and then there’s getting kissed by a vampire. I might walk funny after this, and we haven’t even had sex. All of my energy is drained, though I wonder if it’s from my glowing, almost translucent skin.

“Come with me.”

I’d go anywhere with you, I almost say but nod instead.

We hold hands in the SUV but say no words. The silence is comfortable, and that’s how I know this is right, though for all counts it’s probably the most wrong thing in the world.

He takes me to a small cabin deep in the woods at the end of a winding, paved driveway. It’s made entirely of logs, and the windows have red shutters. Below the shutters are plant boxes, but there aren’t any plants in them. He gets out of the car, and before I can open my door, he’s there, opening it for me.

“Who lives here?” I ask quietly, fearing we might wake the owners.

“Me.”

“What?”

He stares intently at me.

“Wait? Is this… Is this your resting place?”

He takes my hand again and urges me forward. I follow—stunned. We’ve only known each other for weeks, and though we’ve decided to trust each other, this is more than I could have hoped for. This is his biggest vulnerability, and he’s sharing it with me when he wouldn’t even share with his brother.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure.”

He unlocks the door and opens it wide, reaching in to flick on the light. I step inside, onto the welcome mat, and take in every detail. It’s not at all what I expected after spending time in the lavish home I assumed he and his brother lived in. This place is small and open. It’s all one room, except for a single door that likely leads to the bathroom. Half of the space is open to the ceiling while the other has a loft with a railing and a ladder leading up to it. I spy the edge of a mattress. Does he sleep there? On a mattress like I do?

The main floor has a kitchenette and a sofa, coffee table and television set. A bookcase by the far wall is so full of books that one row is stacked horizontally to accommodate them all. I unzip my boots and slide them off before tiptoeing over there. Working in a bookstore all my life, I gravitate to what I know. And I definitely know books. I pluck one out. “Robinson Crusoe? Pride and Prejudice. You like the classics?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, wait…Fifty Shades?”

He grins wickedly. “I had to see what all the fuss was about.”

I chuckle at him. I don’t bother to tell him I’ve read it many times over. And the thought of some of the scenes in the book has my body stirring again. When I turn, he’s only inches behind me. He reaches out and softly touches his hands to my waist. His fingers curl to grip me firmly, and he pulls me close while staring at me with hungry, crimson eyes. The color almost moves in waves, like the ocean. I stare into their depths, mesmerized. My body is alive and tense with my own feelings of desire.

“What now?” I say, breathless.

“We do what I’ve wanted to do to you since the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

“To bite me?” I tease, trying to make light of the situation because I’m nervous, and it makes this not so scary.

He leans in to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling me. My eyelids flutter as I welcome the unconscious clench of the muscles between my legs. “To make you mine.”