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Elarian continued, the distance quickly closing between them. The heat gathering between her legs became impossible to ignore. Droplets of sweat beaded on her back, cheeks flush even as the vampire she ached to kill commanded her.

“My prince,” she said in a low voice, words scraping raw against her throat, “I would never dream of leaving your side.”

Lucan threw his head back in laughter. “I know, my pet.”

The high slits in Elarian’s silk gown slid past her thighs each time she moved forward. Lucan’s gaze raked over her exposed skin. Gooseflesh prickled under his crimson watch. What would his fingers pressed against her flesh feel like? She realized that in all their time of trying to slay each other, they had never truly touched.

They would rather carve their hatred into each other.

And perhaps…perhaps they both craved one stolen touch. Suspicion of who she truly was had not yet arisen. She might yet feel one aching kiss against her neck before the silver plunged into rot, shadows and foul blood at last spilling from his wretched, beautiful mouth.

Lucan abruptly stood as Elarian came close enough to touch his feet. A crooked smile lifted his lips.

“Better, but I don’t recall allowing my pets to wear clothes.”

Long fingers reached for Elarian’s throat. Everything screamed in her to wrench away, but striking now would only end in her death. She needed to be closer for the creature thirsting for blood and pain to be drunk off hers, craving more until his attention slipped.

Swallowing her sneer, Elarian braced for Lucan’s touch. His pale fingers brushed over her quivering skin, and she felt…

Need?

No, no, that could not be.

But she leaned into his touch, breath trembling. Her pulse strained under his tightening grip. A throaty chuckle rumbled from his bare chest.

“Your heart stutters so beautifully, pet. I wonder if you might sing louder for me.” Lucan pulled Elarian up roughly, nails digging into her flesh until she yelped. “Mmm, better.”

Elarian’s gaze strayed to the thin scar she had carved into Lucan’s lips long ago. Her thighs squeezed at the thought of doing it again. Surely she could reach her dagger if she shifted just right…

“This is not Aurelion’s court, darling,” Lucan said roughly as he snatched her wrist with his free hand. “I need no assistance stripping you bare.”

Something darkly wretched blossomed in Elarian’s chest.

She craved…Goddess help her, how she craved for someone—anyone—to look at her and see something more than a weapon to be aimed.

It was only as Lucan’s hands strayed downward that terror flooded through Elarian’s veins. The dagger! The cold metal against her inner thigh pulled a gasp from her as she clamped her legs shut. He did not seem to notice. Sharp nails trailed down her chest; red bloomed in its wake.

“I’ve never had the pleasure of a dhampir in my bed before.” Lucan’s gaze dropped to Elarian’s chest, now heaving as heat flared under his frozen fingertips. “Aurelion bred you perfectly.”

Dhampir.

A blasphemy greater than even the wetness betraying her aching need.

As if struck across the cheek, Elarian jolted into action. She squirmed under Lucan’s touch despite herself, trying to wrestle an arm free from between his chest pressed against hers. Lucan shifted his weight, forcing her to stumble sideways to maintain her balance.

“Looking for something, pet?”

A mischievous smile widened Lucan’s lips, fangs so close to her face she could almost feel them piercing her skin. Without warning, he gripped her hard around both shoulders, turning her around as his hands moved to cup her breasts. His thumbs teased the beaded embroidery over her nipples, pressing into them with cruel need.

Elarian tried to mumble a reply, but only the sound of her breath came—heavy and wet, gasping for air as if it would somehow cleanse her of the torturous pleasure under the vampire’s roving hands. Elarian melted; she’d never quite felt this before—shame, guilt, desire, and pleasure all found in one achingly delicious touch.

She leaned back despite herself.

An icy shadow curled around her neck, yanking Elarian closer to Lucan. He pressed his lips against the shell of her ear, cold breath misting her skin until gooseflesh arose.

“Whoever paid you to bring silver to my bed greatly underestimated how much attention I pay to the smallest details.”

Terror flooded through Elarian’s veins.