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I stare at the wine, its deep color reminding me of blood. “I don’t think drinking is a–”

He thrusts the glass toward me. “You’re going to want to drink it. I can’t use my calling on you when I mark you.”

My hands shake as I take the glass.

“Trust me, Aubrey,” Soren interrupts, his voice low and compelling. “My mark will hurt, my venom even more; I can’t mask you from it.”

Hesitantly, I bring the glass to my lips. The wine is sweet, with an underlying bitterness that makes me wince. Soren watches intently as I drink, his own glass untouched.

“More,” he urges, passing me his glass, and I stare up at him. He takes my now empty one, already refilling it. “You need to trust me, I know you’re scared.”

As the alcohol warms my insides, I feel a slight loosening of the ever-present tug in my chest—the one that always points me toward Rhett. It’s not enough to completely erase it. It’s never enough.

Soren leans in closer, his eyes dark and hungry. “Once I’ve changed you, I will have to remark you once you go into heat. Though it won’t hurt like the first time will.”

The intensity of his gaze is magnetic, drawing me in despite my reservations. Every part of me wants this—wants to belong to someone who hasn’t betrayed me, who promises to cherish me. Another part recoils at the thought of such an irrevocable step, though it won’t stop me from going through with it. He taps the glass, wanting me to finish it, and I do before accepting the third one. He watches me for a second before taking it from me and pulling me to my feet.

“I had planned to do this differently, so you’ll just have to forgive me.” He leads me to the bathroom, bringing the decanter and the glass.

My heart quickens as we cross the threshold of the dimly lit room. The fragrance of sharp disinfectant and subtle lavender mixes in my nostrils, giving it a strangely comforting scent. The cold ceramic tiles touch against my bare feet, sending shivers up my spine.

“It’s going to be okay,” Soren says softly, drawing me close to him. His eyes are still dark and solemn as he studies my face. His fingers brush my cheek, grazing over the gashes caused by Bianca which I had forgotten about. I flinch at the pinching pain.

“I want to shower first,” he tells me. I look at the bath. “Or we can bathe together?” He steps away moving toward the huge spa bath. He turns on the faucets.

With a soft hum, the tub begins to fill, steam clouding the mirrors and creeping across the ceiling. He looks back at me, his eyes a question and a reassurance all at once. With a hesitant nod, I agree to the bath.

“May I?” Soren asks gently. Nodding, I lift my arms as he lifts my dress over my head, careful not to graze against my injured cheek. A shiver courses down my spine from the sudden cool air hitting my skin but also because of him, standing so close yet maintaining an invisible barrier between us. His gaze rakes over the rest of me, taking in every inch. Uncertainty dances in my mind, my stomach twists in anticipation or fear, I can’t tell which.

My heart pounds in my chest, my mind spinning with the possibilities and outcomes of what’s about to happen. “Get in,” he commands gently, gesturing toward the tub. I do as told, the heat seeping into my bones almost instantly. I watch as he undresses himself. He hesitates a moment then climbs in behind me.

The intoxicating mixture of warm water and wine helps to numb me from reality, makes this all feel like some dream or illusion. The weight of Soren behind me, his chest pressed against my back, is real.

He runs a hand down my arm, tracing circles into my skin causing goosebumps to rise in anticipation. Soren pulls me impossibly close to him before reaching over and grabbing the decanter which he left on the basin. He places it in my hands. Then he does something that has me moving to grip his hand when he tears into it with razor sharp teeth. He squeezes his fist over the rim of the decanter and his blood starts steadily pouring into the wine.

He then drops his hand into the water, tinging the water a deep red before pushing the decanter to my lips. He leans back resting against the side of the tub, dragging me with him.

“Drink it, every drop.”

I stare at the decanter, my eyes widening. “I’ll be drunk,” I warn him.

“Precisely the point.” I lift the decanter to my lips and he sweeps my hair over my shoulder watching me. I drink from the decanter and just when I think I can’t force anymore down, Soren’s hand holds it in place forcing me to drink the rest. I choke and sputter on it, wine spilling down my chest. Only when I finish it does he let it go, allowing me to suck in a much needed breath.

Soren sets the decanter aside, and drags me closer. I stare at him for a second as he rearranges us so I’m facing him, the cool air brushing my backside. Soren sweeps my wet hair back before gripping my chin, and tilting my face toward his.

His lips caress mine gently, extinguishing the taste of wine and metallic blood. He slides his hands down my back, tracing the curve of my spine with a tenderness that makes me shiver.

“Just relax,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my already quaking body. His fingers continue their journey downwards, barely grazing my sides, gliding so gently that it’s featherlight.

I close my eyes, allowing myself to sink further into the sensation of him. His touch evokes a heady mixture of pleasure and fear which I don’t quite understand, but don’t resist, either.

His lips pull away from mine momentarily and I whimper at the loss. Then he’s kissing down my throat, his tongue lapping any traces of wine that have trickled down. A soft groan escapes me at the feel of it and one of Soren’s hands tightens around my waist.

Something about Soren fills me with an inexplicable trust even as he turns me around so my back is against his chest.

The warmth of his skin against mine feels like a fever dream. His hands roam lower, tracing patterns over my stomach and hips until one cups me between my legs.

I arch into the touch, moaning softly as he circles his fingers over my soaked folds. Every muscle in my body tightens in anticipation. His other hand glides up to cup my breast, teasing one of my nipples, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I grab onto the edge of the tub, trying to hold onto something as the world begins to spin around me. His blood in my system makes everything spin.