Page 12 of Nocte

I read about them all in the archives, roses.

However, none of the texts mention how sweet they smell. Pungent but soft in the same breath. I inhale again. Sigh. In this realm, such a bloom is a rare, coveted luxury.

It had to cost a fortune.

“Look at me, little bird.” His fingers run through my hair once more. “Do something for me in return,” he commands, his lips near the base of my throat.

“Is that how this goes?” I ask, mainly to myself. The archives are scarce when it comes to vamryre social customs. I don’t know much about how they conduct themselves. Perhaps this type of exchange is unique to them? Given their transactional nature, I wouldn’t be surprised.

But how should I respond? The fae don’t…

Wait.I am an abomination.

Though, the vamryre doesn’t seem to care to hear my response. His eyes wander, creeping over my gray robes and downward. When he spies the naked flesh of my thigh, where the skirt rose up, he grasps it with the flat of his palm.

I tense, my next breath trapped in my throat. He is ice, his skin flawlessly smooth but a dangerous strength resonates through his touch. He could break this limb if he wanted to. Shatter the very bone. A dark intent lurks in those scarlet eyes when I look up. Perhaps he intends to do that to me.

“I’ve always been curious what fae blood tastes like,” he says. “Let me bite?—”

“No!” I bat his hand away and jump down from my perch. Chuckling softly, he watches me go.

“It is forbidden,” I say. Then I fumble my tongue and add. “Besides, I am not recognized as fae. Not officially?—”

“You smell like the fae.” He smiles in that beautiful, icy way. “See me tomorrow. Right here.”

“No,” I say, inching back toward the shadow of the building proper.

“Come,” he commands, his eyes flashing. Then he cocks his head and beams. “I’ll bring you something else, not-fae. Spend the night wracking your little brain as to what it might be. Consider what I am owed in return.”

I owe him nothing. Nothing but a fortune in exchange for the rose. A foul rose I should return.

But I don’t. As I clutch it, something the vamryre said echoes in my brain.It’s night.The sun has already set, the best part of my day missed.

“Tomorrow,” the vamryre says, drawing my attention back to him. “You bring me something in exchange for that—” He nods to the rose I still hold.

I want to let it go. I can’t.

Personal items are fleeting. Besides my name, this is the only one I have. I cradle it to my chest as if to protect it from the vamryre’s gaze. Another term from the archives comes to mind as I watch him: unhinged.

He is unhinged incarnate.

“Until tomorrow, little ebony bird.” He turns and lopes up the ruined section of the wall with a grace that catches me off guard. From the roof, his movements looked jerky and unnatural. Animalistic.

Up close…

He is fluid and sure, much in the way a true fae would be before they take flight.

Not that I would know. I’ve never seen it.

CHAPTER4

Caspian

Ihate him. Cassius, the all-knowing. Cassius, the brave. He makes up those fucking titles to adorn himself with, always including his name. That name.

It’s why he named me Caspian—as unique from his own as he could come, or so he said.

So he says.

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