Page 227 of Coal Hearts

My mind suddenly swarmed with gushing crimson.

Litres and litres, buckets and buckets.

My throat sliced and gaping.

My skin turning white as red spilled all over the floor.

Ignoring Victor, Henri shifted closer. His thigh wedged between my spread and naked legs. The softness of his slacks against my pussy added another element of insanity. Softness equalled kindness. Softness equalled our pact, our deal, our vow.

But everything was broken now.

“Please...” I whispered.

My first word in so long.

My first plea of many.

“Don’t. Don’t do this, Henri.”

He shuddered and closed his eyes.

And I hoped...just like I’d hoped in the library when he told me he was a cop.

I hoped he’d choose me.

Choose us.

Only this time, when he opened them again, there was no promise to save me, no oath to protect Peter, no admission that he was good.

This time...only a monster stared back.

“You don’t have permission to call me that. I’m your lord and Master. Address me as such.” With a flick of his wrist, he cut me.

I cried out as his knife punctured and pierced.

He groaned as hot blood seeped free.

A different kind of haze corrupted his shadow-stained eyes. Not alcohol. Not nausea.

Peace.

The longer he stared at the rich blood rolling its way down my throat, the more savage his stare became.

Sharp with fatal diamonds.

Twinkling with lust and glimmering with sick need.

It was true, then.

Eyes truly were the windows to people’s souls, and I couldn’t look away as Henri—the man who’d caused feelings and unwanted desire—vanished beneath Henri, the ruthless Master.

And I couldn’t help it.

The drugs in my system drowned me again.

I lost myself as Henri bent forward, grabbed the glass-blown pipette, and pressed the tip to the blood he’d drawn. With fierce attention, he sucked it up, trapping red in the dropper.

The room erupted with a cacophony of noise.