Page 7 of His Eternal Temptation

He sneered, “Witches so unnoteworthy, I’ve never heard of them. You can leave the city now. And remind your father, if any of his people are caught here again, it won’t be pleasant. You can consider tonight a free pass, but I won’t let your presence slide again.”

“Fine. Whatever. I don’t know why I bothered.” Lane stood, his defiance undermined by the way he gripped the chair to steady himself.

Rowan strode to the door, unmoved by the evidence of Lane’s brush with death. Emotion had made him a fool tonight, if only to himself. His anger surged. “Hunter will walk you out. Don’t try to seduce him on your way downstairs. That’s Lane’s modus operandi,” he added to the doctor in warning.

Hunter’s eyes went wide.

Lane made an enraged sound. “That wasn’t what I was doing back⁠—”

“Don’t bother.” Rowan stormed from the room. Hearing Lane out would be nothing but embarrassing for them both.

The fact of the matter was, Lane had attempted to seduce Rowan with the intent to spy on him. Marshall had admitted that Lane had been assigned to gather intel when Rowan sent his coven packing. The only saving grace in the whole ordeal had been Rowan rejecting what he’d believed at the time to be an honest advance.

Rowan had never been more relieved that he kept everyone outside his walls. He trusted and loved the members of his coven, had plenty of sexual partners, but he was never completely uninhibited, never truly vulnerable, and never took anything when his need for it was desperate. Not even in safe spaces where he could let his guard down, like his parties, which only allowed vetted guests.

Lane’s attendance meant he should have been trustworthy, and he hadn’t been. It was a violation. A betrayal far worse than the one his coven committed. Lane was nothing but a snake, and he could rot. His actions proved that being guarded was the only way to survive. Rowan’s desperation—his deepest longings—would always lead him to ruin, for he had wanted Lane something fierce that night, and if his whirlwind of emotions in the clinic were anything to go by, he still did.

Rowan’s footsteps thundered down the hall. He needed to forget⁠—

Lane’s scream pierced the air, and Rowan’s heart strangled. He gasped, pain shooting along his arm like a heart attack.

What the Devil?

Rowan turned and stumbled back the way he’d come, his movement sluggish. He fell, his heart rate slowing to a crawl. Damnation, he couldn’t move. He wasn’t in danger of permanent death unless someone ripped out his heart while he was incapacitated, but still, this was bad.

How is this happening?

Lane’s continued screams did nothing to drown out the answer. It had been a trap after all.

THREE

LANE

Pain cut through Lane like lightning. He collapsed to the floor, distantly aware he was screaming. How could it possibly be worse than before?

The curse still had hold of him. He would die and had wasted any chance of finding help on tracking down a vampire who hated him.

“Lane!” Hunter grabbed him, maneuvering him onto his back. “Talk to me. What’s happening?”

Lane clutched his tightening chest. His voice strangled, no longer able to scream, and the resulting silence was crushing.

Commotion outside the room met his ears. Hunter spoke, but Lane felt like he was underwater and couldn’t make out his words. He closed his eyes against a growing dread so potent, it felt like a physical presence looming over him.

Before, he’d focused on warning Rowan. Having a purpose obscured the reality of his situation. With no distraction, no goal to achieve, nothing to show for his life, and no hope, he couldn’t bear facing the end.

The pain in his chest vanished, and he gasped, his eyes flying open. Grogginess clouded his senses, and then, like he was waking from a deep sleep, everything cleared.

Hunter had a bewildered look on his face. “What the hell?”

“What’s going on?” The vaguely familiar man from the club entrance stood near the doorway. “Are you okay, boss?”

Beside him, Rowan was being held up by a huge man Lane recognized as one of the coven enforcers, Felix. Rowan shook himself, and the enforcer let go. “I’m fine.” His cold gaze landed on Lane. “What did you do?”

“Me?” Lane waited for clarification, but none came. “I nearly died. The curse isn’t broken.” Fear clogged his throat, and he couldn’t go on. Pain and death could take hold any second.

Rowan looked murderous. Was he pissed Lane hadn’t died screaming? “Why did I nearly suffer a heart attack?”

Lane felt nauseous, his insides twisting. “What? You?”