It was the closest I had ever been to him. I studied him, his face inches away; far more bat-like than it had been in the Cathedral. His leaf-like nostrils widened as he breathed me in, the ridges of his cheekbones even more pronounced into almost thorn-like flares.

I could smell him again, that smoky wood scent, mouthwatering despite his appearance.

What did you do, to make this so much more monstrous? I asked. How much further can you go?

He shook his head helplessly, and I took his hand, curling his fingers in.

Don’t try to speak to me now. Let me prepare myself. I can do this. I have to do this.

Up close, there were flecks of silver and black in the gold expanse of his pupils. There was something beautiful in that; like ash spilled across a sheet of gold.

His skin, an ashy gray in the sun, now seemed more of a charcoal hue by candlelight.

Bane was beastly. There was no way to get past that. But there was a soul inside him.

I swallowed hard, picturing what was to come.

His fangs, not entirely concealed by his lips, glinted. This close, they seemed far sharper than Wyn’s needles.

Warm hands settled tentatively on my hips. He was still as a statue, his muscles taut and quivering, as though holding himself back.

Have you been with a woman since you became a fiend? Or is this as unsettling to you as it is to me? I stared into his eyes as I spoke, wishing I could tell him how nervous I was.

I was not a virgin, but… it had been a long time. And even if he weren’t a fiend, he was still massive, enough to make me afraid.

I exhaled, closing my eyes. I wished I had my journal, so we could speak before we were put to each other like mares and stallions. But I had to try, at least.

When I opened my eyes again, his gaze was on my throat. On the pulse pounding beneath the skin, and as my heart started racing once more, I felt him shift under me.

His hands tightened, and he leaned forward, eyes flashing brilliant amber. There was a soft touch on my clavicle, the warm wetness of his forked tongue flicking out to taste me…

Bane inhaled suddenly, groaning as he pulled my hips into him, a monstrously large, hard cock pulsing against my center. A faint tendril of desire wound through me, shocking and sudden—and was doused almost immediately.

He tilted his head, tongue tracing the line of my throat, and I glimpsed the predatory hunger in his eyes before they closed.

Felt the first graze of fangs at my flesh, the thorn-like prick in vulnerable skin.

Heard the hitch in his breath as his jaw tightened, preparing to bite.

And then a thousand years of ingrained terror overtook me. Ice trickled down my spine, every hair on my body rising straight up. Goosebumps descended my arms, my mind gone dark and screaming, and I shoved myself away.

I spilled onto the floor in a whirl of skirts, signing frantically: I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Let me out. Please.

Bane was frozen, shocked at my abrupt departure from his lap, but as he reached for me I backed away, still signing, shaking all over.

Please let me out. 

He closed his eyes and hid the yellow nightshine, taking slow breaths and turning his head aside again. When he spoke, his voice had deepened into the guttural snarl that had frightened me so badly that first night. “Go, Cirrien. I will not touch you against your will. You’re free. Go.”

And despite my terror, I believed him. I scrabbled at the door with my nails, just managing to unlatch it, before flinging myself into the hallway, panting for breath and trying to keep the tears in my eyes where they belonged, because I couldn’t risk Wyn knowing I had cried in front of him, made him feel like a monster, again—

The vampire with blue eyes, Koryek, was outside Bane’s door. He looked startled at my appearance for only a moment. I signed to him, finally resorting to the crude pantomimes for myself and sleeping, before he got it.

He spoke as he walked me back to the Tower of Spring, but I heard none of it.

I could think only of the fear that had gripped me as Bane moved to feed, the emotion he had carefully hidden behind a mask when I pushed him away.

I had overestimated myself. Now Bane would only feel disappointment in me, that I was like all the rest—fearing him and what he was.

I closed the door on Koryek, stumbling stiffly to the mirror where I’d been prepared for this wedding.

My face had gone deathly pale. Rose petals had tangled into my hair; I was a mess, my hands scratched and filthy.

And there, on my throat, a pinprick or two. Three drops of blood had stained the white silk below my neck.

I shouldn’t even have tried.

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Chapter 10 Bane

My fingers curled into fists, gripping the bedspread on either side of me. Visca had filed them down to dull points, hoping to reduce my monstrous appearance to something more palatable to my new wife. For once I could touch the fine cloth without shredding it.

Why had I bothered?

It was my fault. I had misinterpreted something… a vital connection missed, a misreading of her smiles.

It had been far too early for joy, I thought sourly, wishing my claws remained in place, so I could at least have the satisfaction of tearing the bedding apart. In my delusional happiness to find that my bride was a level-headed woman, one who touched and walked near me without open revulsion, I had allowed my ardor to overcome my better sense.

Had I genuinely believed paper and a book would win her over? I snorted in disgust, staring down at the floor where one discarded, pearl-encrusted slipper lay turned over.

Fool. Hideous, overeager fool. 

For the first time in years, the heat of lust had overpowered the flames of thirst. It was not a luxury I allowed myself, but Cirrien… if I could turn back time, to the days before I was a beast, she was exactly the kind of woman I would have desired for myself.

In those days, she would not have run from me.

Lifting a hand from the bed, I dragged it idly over my chest, wishing I still possessed my claws so I could rip the beast from my body—tear it all away, discard the warped flesh and the twisted bone, until nothing remained.

But it remained. It surrounded me, the few sweet drops of blood I’d tasted scouring my throat with fire, my cock pulsing with the need to bury myself inside her as I drank. I didn’t want to finish it myself. Lust, I had learned to live without. Now, in a moment of weakness, my walls had crumbled.

I wanted all of her. Her mind, her body, her soul… and most of all, her heart.

I wanted her to smile at me. To touch me lovingly. To submit without fear, with bravery and the unshakeable conviction that I would never harm her.

To stand at my side proudly, without reservation.

“You ask too much,” I told myself hoarsely, still feeling her in my lap, her hands moving between us, the softness of her skin and the warmth of her body against mine.

Her throat, so smooth against my tongue, giving beneath my fangs…

With a wordless snarl, I tore my trousers open, releasing the full length of my cock. It jutted, hard as iron against my palm as I stroked myself roughly, imagining peeling the silk from her and throwing her into the bed.

Or had she felt it? My strokes slowed; the same ridges that covered my body extended over my chest and stomach, dipping down to my cock as well. I squeezed tightly, a pearl of fluid beading at the barbed crown. Heat boiled low in my stomach as I pumped myself, still thinking of Cirrien.

She had to have felt it, pressing against her insistently. Perhaps she’d harbored hopes that despite the rest of me, my manhood would match what most men possessed.