It was dangerous to provoke a vampire.

Especially when they had bloodlust.

The ravenous beast stirred within him, spreading darkness through his soul, always ready to rise and seize control when he was at his weakest, when his hunger for blood or sex was strong.

And gods, he wanted both of those things from this female.

“I’m not your property,” she spat and stood her ground when he advanced a step into her room, her fists clenched and trembling at her sides.

“No. You belong to my brother,” he countered, wishing she didn’t.

She stepped right up to him, her eyes darkening as she tilted her head back and her gaze clashed with his.

Her voice lowered to a snarl. “I belong to no one.”

Night stared at her, his eyes slowly widening as he saw the truth in hers, confirming his worst fears.

Lilian smiled victoriously, anger flowing from her in palpable waves that rocked him as much as her words had, but there was hurt and fear laced within it.

“You didn’t know your brother was into taking humans against their will?” she barked and he held his tongue, not wanting to damn his brother, even when the proof of Bastian’s crime was right before him. She shook her head, causing the glossy dark waves of her hair to brush across the shoulders of her plain black dress. “I can see it, Night. You didn’t know. If you had—”

“It’s none of my business,” he growled and turned to leave.

Her hand on his arm stopped him.

Despite the sleeve of his jacket and his shirt that separated them, his skin burned where she held him, the thrill of her touch ripping at his fragile control and flooding him with a need to turn and gather her into his arms.

His bloodlust rose, pushing to the fore as his focus narrowed to the point where she gripped him, to how close she was behind him. He dragged down a sharp breath, catching her scent. A torment. His face twisted as he screwed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the urges running rampant through him, denying the one that pushed to the front, shoving all the others aside.

It wouldn’t be wrong of him to kiss her.

Bastian didn’t have any claim on her. She didn’t want to belong to his brother. Would she want to belong to him?

Not in the way Bastian had wanted to claim her, but in another way.

He swallowed hard and fought back against his feelings, refusing to let them control him. It was lust. That was all. Lilian was beautiful and spirited, and he wanted to break her and claim her as his prize. It was just another hunt.

So why did it feel as if his entire life hinged on the next few seconds?

If he turned and looked at her, would he see desire or disgust in her eyes? He cracked his eyes open and looked at her hand, at her delicate fingers where they clutched at the black material of his jacket, gripping it fiercely. A silent command to look at her. He couldn’t. He feared what he would do if he did.

He had never felt so out of control.

It was as if he was spiralling, spinning, and there was no way to stop himself from falling.

“Night,” she whispered, the softness of her voice his undoing.

He pivoted towards her as if she had commanded him to look at her, as if she had absolute power over him, and tensed as he found she was closer than he had thought. Her chest pressed against his stomach and her scent invaded his lungs, her beauty fogging his mind as her heat warmed his body.

And gods, he wanted her.

Craved her.

She bewitched him.

Before he could stop himself, he slipped his hand into her dark hair and fisted it.

Dragged her closer still, tearing a gasp from her sweet lips as her free hand flew to his chest to torment him with the feel of it.