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He could never reclaim what Aurelion stripped from him.
Lucan shifted until his thigh brushed against Elarian’s forehead. He curled a thin finger under her chin, raising it toward his face. Her short, silvery-black hair fell back, revealing a long, pointed ear decorated with golden piercings beset with gems.
“From where I’m standing, it seems as if you’ll be the one screaming.”
She remained silent. One long, dagger-shaped earring trembled at her neck. If she had been turned, the elf would make a most beautiful eternal bride.
“Or,” he continued slowly, “maybe that’s what you want.”
Elarian’s heart skittered at his words. Before she could speak, he reached for the chains at his feet. In one smooth motion, he opened the largest cuff and quickly snapped it around the elf’s neck. Her eyes blazed with defiance, slender fingers wrapping around his wrist as if she could somehow still fight back. Under the wavering witchlights, amber clashing with the steely coolness of her skin, she looked as if a caged goddess.
Caged—but still terrifyingly lethal.
Though a part of Lucan wished to hear her sweetling voice spitting venom in his face, every word threatened to reawaken the remnants of his humanity.
Groaning, he reached for a bloodied rag before moving to stuff it in her mouth. The elf finally broke her feigned obeisance; with one free hand, she clawed at Lucan’s face, desperate to free herself, to no avail. He twisted her head back, then roughly shoved the gag in her mouth. Her silent whimpers and tear-filled eyes sent a thrilling shock through him.
“Your pretty mouth looks much better like that,” he said in a low voice.
Yanking the chain around her neck tight, he brought his face close to hers, cold breath raking across her cheeks. He bared his fangs, then let out a throaty laugh.
“I might even find another use for it again.” Releasing her with a shove, Lucan stood and viewed his beautiful, naked prize with a smile. “You did take me so eagerly before, like such a good little whore.”
Perhaps eternity would not be so tedious after all. It mattered little if she agreed.
twenty-three
A Defilement So Sweet
Outside, a thousand stars and a thousand more scattered across the darkened sky. Blues and deep purples melted behind them like the sheen of spilled oil. In the distant reaches of the expanse, something red flickered.
Elarian stared out the arched window, blood burning as her vision blurred. Trembling, she lifted her hand to her sundered kin still dancing up high. Cold metal scraped against her wrist; something wretched unfurled inside her heart.
Through her haze, memories fought to surface.
Your heart stutters so beautifully, pet, a man’s voice whispered. I wonder if you might sing louder for me.
A ghostly hand at her throat.
Thrilling ecstasy coursed through her veins, unquenchable hunger rising inside until she cried out for more.
Be my fucking whore.
Drowning in a pool of warmth, the ache in her heart eased. Touched…held…desired…
Beneath the fading bliss lay something darker—a shame so vast, it eclipsed everything else until she wondered whether she had ever been blessed by Melistra’s Grace. The stars outside the thick, glass window panes shone with indifferent brilliance.
Inside, hers had quietly gone dark.
Elarian struggled to keep her eyes open. It felt as if someone had poured a hot slurry of filth into her head. Laboring for each breath, she tried to recall something, anything.
A dance in the arms of a white-haired man. His fingers skimming along her touch-starved flesh, breath still warm against her neck.
No…
Not a man.
A vampire.
