Page 37 of Stalked By Seduction and Shadows

All of this sound logic, paired with the hunger in the born vampires’ eyes, was the perfect justification for my next questionable, morally reprehensible action.

In the fizzy electrolyte water, I’d planted a drop of my blood.

As soon as Little Flame had taken a sip, she’d been marked. My essence was planted inside her, forever. No longer would I need to track her by scent.

I would know where she was at all times, an invisible leash that tethered her to me. Gods, did I love that mental image.

I could say my actions were justified by my concern for Scarlett’s safety as the object of my fascination. But that didn’t stop my cock from hardening as soon as her throat bobbed and my blood slid inside her.

She didn’t know it yet, but she was mine.

I’d given her a chance to escape me, but instead she’d seemed just as unconsciously drawn to me as I was to her. It was as though her soul had chosen me before her brain had.

Even her body knew whom she belonged to, the scent of her arousal nearly too much to bear as she talked back to me. That fiery little mouth would fit perfectly against mine. Before I lost my last thin thread of control, I disappeared, leaving her adorably angry and confused.

I followed her and her new witch friend all the way home, shaking my head disapprovingly at her living conditions. This neighborhood wasn’t nearly good enough for her, and I couldn’t imagine the state of her apartment. It was likely all that she could afford.

Her safety and comfort were priceless to me. She’d understand this very soon.

As I followed her, my predator instincts mixed headily with my growing arousal. She was jumpy, flinching at every voice and noise that erupted in the early morning air. Her fear smelled delicious, and the way her eyes rounded and her lips parted looked nearly the same as when she was flushed with desire.

Interesting.

Scarlett was full of surprises. I’d seen the way her eyes had trailed off and lingered on the stairs to the lower level. The way she’d grown blindingly alive as the night went on, changing her expressions and speech with each patron, making an entirely new face when she turned away.

She was the same little girl who held the trapped, wounded rabbit in her arms, the one who sang mournful songs to the stars. Yet she was also now this woman of many faces—this eternal mystery, a bundle of contradictions and big, deep feelings—an object of everyone’s desire who belonged to no one but herself.

Or at least, she used to belong to no one. Now she belonged to me. All of Aristelle could gaze upon my Little Flame for all I cared, but just one touch, and I’d make sure they fucking burned.

I waited several minutes after the lights had switched off before scaling the building next to hers with ease, finding my footing on her downstairs neighbor’s window ledge, and then swinging up onto her own. She’d left all her windows cracked, and when I peered in, I could see it was because she slept in a cocoon of blankets pulled up all around her.

I smiled softly to myself, quietly pushing the window wider before dropping to my feet on the hardwood floor. Scarlett didn’t even stir.

I casually inspected her bare bedroom, the clothes and belongings strewn across the floor and the lack of furniture other than her bed frame and mattress. The next room was no better, so cramped that I likely appeared comically large standing in the space.

Her job at Odessa was now perfect for many reasons. Her safety most of all. But now I could also make sure Seraph was paying her more than enough to stay healthy and fed, but also to get some damn furniture.

I backtracked into the bedroom, watching her sleep like a nightmare lording over her motionless, vulnerable body. Her nightmare, her monster, the only thing in this world I wanted my Scarlett to fear.

I dragged a hand over my face and then through my hair as a breath left my lips. I’d made the morally correct decision in Crescent Haven. I’d let her go.

But now that she’d defiantly fought her way back to me, planting herself before the most powerful beast in a city full of them, I wouldn’t be making the same mistake again.

The spy in my dungeon before me was a witch who’d cozied up with one of our rising clan members. This was why getting intimately involved with anyone outside of the clan was harshly discouraged, especially the closer you got to the top.

That was another reason Scarlett was dangerous. I was consumed with concern for her safety, when really I should’ve been preoccupied with the threat she posed to me and my family. But as I’d listened to her slow, deep breathing and snooped around her insufficient apartment, I’d turned over nothing at all suspicious.

I had found some sort of diary hidden underneath a pile of clothes. Though I had no issue following her and watching her sleep, it for some reason felt too intrusive to peer inside her in that way.

I wanted to enter Scarlett’s mind by my own merit. I wanted her to bare herself to me of her own volition, to whisper her truth as those captivating blue eyes held me entranced.

A muffled groan pulled me out of my thoughts and back to the dimly lit dungeon where the witch traitor was strung up from the ceiling by his wrists. Blood dripped idly to the floor in a growing puddle. His hands were purple, and he was unable to support himself on his toes any longer as his body slumped with exhaustion. By now, after hours of pain, his brain was likely overloaded with adrenaline and endorphins. He was shutting down.

We needed to spice things up.

I held up small shears, eyeing his dragging feet. His eyes focused on me, and he began to beg through the tight, fabric gag.

I wondered what adorable noises Scarlett might make if she were in pain.

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