Page 7 of Bewitched By a Vampire

Like a shark detecting a drop of blood in a large body of water.

He pushed her into the room and released her.

Lilian was quick to move away from him, placing some much-needed distance between them. She secretly rubbed her wrist and looked at it, unsure whether she was trying to ease the pain of his bruising grip or work the heat of his touch into her skin so it would remain forever. She was deeply aware of his gaze on her as she crossed the wooden floor of the pale green room, heading for her dresser and pretending she meant to do something there.

When she felt his eyes leave her, she glanced back at him.

He was staring at the scarlet dress on the dark green covers of her bed.

His irises ringed with that bloody colour.

Lilian couldn’t bring herself to look at it. She stared at the floor instead, fighting the same battle she had waged with herself since she had stepped into this house. Duty warred with her sense of self-preservation. Her coven meant everything to her, and she knew she should be honoured to carry out this mission given how important it was to her family, but whenever she thought about what she was going to have to do—how much it would cost her—she wanted to run.

She closed her eyes. She had to be here, though. It had to be her. Only she could get the proof her coven needed. Only she had that power. Bastian was lucky that her coven hadn’t decided to kill him based on the rumour that placed him at the scene of the crime. He was being given a chance to prove his innocence.

Shewas being given the chance to prove it.

To do that, she had to go through with the ceremony that would bind them. Didn’t she?

She glanced at Night.

Their eyes clashed and heat swept through her, igniting her blood. His eyes darkened, but not from anger. The desire that shone in them was unmistakable.

It scorched her.

“Stay in the room,” he growled as he pivoted and stepped out into the corridor, and before she could ask why, he had slammed the door behind him.

She listened to his footsteps as they receded, waiting until she could no longer hear them before daring to move. Her legs were unsteady as she went to the bed, grabbed the dress, and stormed to her wardrobe. The hangers rattled as she grabbed one, and she slipped the dress onto it and shoved it onto the railing, and then slammed both the doors. She pressed her palms to them and leaned forwards, so her forehead came into contact with the cool mahogany. It did nothing to lower her temperature or tame the fire in her veins.

Lilian sagged against the wardrobe doors and turned her head to her left, towards the sash window that was one of a pair that framed her four-poster bed. She stared out into the darkness, seeking a sliver of strength, enough to get her through the next few days.

Enough to stop her courage from failing her.

A door slammed below her.

She frowned and drifted to the window, pausing there as she caught sight of Night. He strode across the gravel and she was sure he was going to his car and intended to leave, but then he went straight past it, out onto the lawn. He paced across the grass, moonlight caressing his shoulders and his hair as he ran a hand through it. He looked as worked up as she felt.

When he pulled out his phone, she canted her head. Who was he calling? His brother? She wasn’t a fool. He had made it perfectly clear he wasn’t happy about having to deal with her. Maybe that would work in her favour. She could happily spend the next few days in this room, avoiding him.

She needed to keep her mind on her mission.

She would use the time she had been given to find the courage to keep moving forwards with it, crushing the side of her that wanted to run.

Lilian pressed her hand to her chest. It was going to be easier said than done. Her heart had been wavering for a while now, ever since she had set foot in this mansion. She clenched her fingers into a tight fist. She could do this.Onlyshe could do this. If she didn’t carry out her duty, then her sisters would have no choice but to kill Bastian. Her coven needed revenge for what had happened. They wouldn’t care whether he was guilty or not. They needed someone to pay.

She had killed in the past—her coven regularly took on jobs as mercenaries after all—but something about walking away and sentencing Bastian to death had guilt stirring inside her. She wasn’t sure she could live with herself if her courage failed her and she didn’t carry out her mission.

But then, she wasn’t sure she could live with the alternative.

If Bastian was innocent, her coven would have no reason to execute him.

Meaning, she would be his servant forever.

Her coven swore they were working on a way to break the bond that would tie her to Bastian, but she didn’t believe them. They had only mentioned it after she had asked about it, and they hadn’t been convincing. Deep in her heart, she knew that by exchanging blood with Bastian in order to prove his innocence or guilt, there was a fifty percent chance she was dooming herself.

Night looked away from her and she dragged herself away from him, turned to her bed and flopped face-first onto the dark green covers. She exhaled and stared at the pillows to her right.

What was she going to do?

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