Page 10 of Bewitched By a Vampire

Bastian clearly viewed himself as the very peak of aristocrat society, someone who stood far above other vampires, let alone the mortals he felt should be bowing and scraping at his feet.

Lilian had lost count of the number of times she had wanted to box his ears.

Or curse him.

Did Night own humans?

A shiver bolted down her spine and she turned towards the house, and froze as she spotted the familiar silhouette in the doorway.

“Crap,” she muttered.

She was in for it now.

Night lifted his hand and crooked a finger, and she didn’t want to go to him, not because she was afraid of him and the fact he was no doubt angry she had disobeyed him, but because she was afraid of this heat he stirred inside her.

The wildfire licking through her veins only grew hotter as she stared at him, becoming an inferno that scorched her reserve and had her taking a step towards him, as if she was under his thrall and powerless to resist him.

Forget messaging Gillian. She needed to speak to her face to face about this problem. Before she did something reckless.

She drew down subtle breaths as she went to Night, trying to calm her nerves and settle her heart. A foolish endeavour. He was a vampire. He would have detected the effect he had on her the second she had turned to see him standing in the golden glow of the doorway, watching her.

Maybe she wasn’t only afraid of the heat he stirred in her.

As she drew closer to him, she could make out his face—and his eyes.

There was no anger in their pale blue depths. No. They were sharp and intense, and made her feel he was studying her, putting her under the microscope and trying to figure her out. This vampire was shrewd. He was intelligent. Calculating.

Her heart drummed a little faster.

She feared that he could see right through her and that if she stayed here, he would figure out what she was up to and she would end up dead.

Lilian tried to hold his gaze, but his aquamarine eyes were so penetrating that she couldn’t manage it. Her gaze fell towards his chest.

Snagged on his throat.

A silvery scar ran from beneath one earlobe all the way to the other and was thickest over his Adam’s apple.

What had happened to him?

It looked as if someone had tried to cleave his head off and had almost succeeded. How had he survived such a wound? She knew the answer to that question. He was a fighter. That scar told her as much. He wasn’t one to lie down and accept his fate.

The intensity of his gaze grew and she tried to look away, but the scar bewitched her, had her caught in its snare.

She tensed as he growled, the sound vicious and commanding and enough to propel her into action at last. Her gaze dropped to his shoes, but it wasn’t enough for him. He stepped closer to her, narrowing the distance down to a few inches, until she could feel his heat and smell his expensive aftershave. Her heart shot into her throat when he lowered his head and growled again, his fangs dangerously close to her forehead, and her fingertips tingled as her magic rose to the fore.

Prickles swept down her spine as she desperately fought to hold it back, wrestling for control. He wasn’t a threat to her. He wasn’t a danger. She told herself that on repeat in an attempt to calm her magic, even when part of her knew he was both of those things.

Because she had stared at his scar and he didn’t like it.

“Go to your room and stay there until you hear otherwise,” he snarled, his deep voice a rumble of thunder as he eased closer to her and then suddenly stepped back, clearing the way.

Lilian nodded and stepped past him.

He caught her wrist and she stopped, a fiery ache sweeping through her to reignite the embers of the inferno he caused in her. She looked back at his hand where it gripped her, his long fingers curled tightly around her flesh, and then up into his eyes, sure he meant to snap and growl some more, maybe even tell her outright never to look at his scar again.

He didn’t take his gaze off his hand.

She waited, unsure what to do. Try to free herself or remain where she was? How would Night react if she did either of those things? His expression slowly softened as he stared at his hand on her arm, the darkness swift to leave his eyes as his features relaxed, and then his brow furrowed and he swallowed hard.

---