Page 36 of Blood Caged

I fold my arms over my chest. “What is it?”

“You will be the one to draw her blood.” The side of his mouth curls up into an ugly half-smile.

“What?” I spit the word out.

“You heard me. If you want her blood drawn every other day, you will do it. Otherwise, I will have Dimitri continue his regular schedule.”

I set my jaw. I find the thought distasteful. But then I think of how she screamed and fought. How brutal they’d been when they pinned her down. Perhaps I could use a different approach. Convince her that fighting would be unwise.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll do it myself.”

Lucien smirks. “Good man.” He pauses. “Although…”

“Although what?” I’m getting so fucking sick of his games.

“Do you think you’re up to it?”

Smug bastard.

“Of course I’m up to it,” I snap.

What the fuck?

“Really?” Lucien raises a brow. “You are aware of the power of this female, are you not?”

“I am aware.” I nod. “It doesn’t concern me. Her magic has been suppressed.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He takes another sip from his glass. “Her power is in her blood. It’s potent. Stronger than all of the others. It’s one of the reasons we took her.”

“One?” I frown at him. “What are the others?”

“None of your concern. What matters is that I will be trusting you with a valuable asset. Can you handle this responsibility?”

“You’re already trusting me with it. You brought me on board to take care of her, didn’t you?” I’m growing impatient with hisdouble-talk. He was the one who set this condition, and now he’s talking me out of it.

“Guarding her and being exposed to her blood are not the same thing,” he says. “How do you know you can control yourself?”

I narrow my eyes at Lucien, fighting to keep my expression neutral. “I’m not some fledgling who can’t control his urges. I’ve been around for centuries, Lucien. I think I can handle a little bit of witch blood.”

Lucien’s lips curl into a smirk. “Can you really, Soren? Are you absolutely certain about that?”

His words hit a nerve, and unbidden memories surface. The moment Mia arrived, her scent had overwhelmed me. The rich, intoxicating aroma of her blood had made my fangs ache, my throat burn with thirst. I can’t remember a time I’d felt like that.

And then, earlier today, when I had tasted her blood…sweet…bewitching…I had acted on pure instinct, driven by a hunger I hadn’t felt in decades. Even now, I can almost feel it on my hands, though I’ve washed them thoroughly.

I push these thoughts aside, burying them deep. “Yes, I’m certain,” I say firmly, meeting Lucien’s gaze. “I’ve been around witch blood before. This isn’t my first rodeo, Lucien. I’m perfectly capable of controlling myself around the witch.”

He taps the side of his glass with a sharp fingertip, pursing his lips. Then he sets his glass down abruptly and stands. “Good. Your witches get their…humanity back. Just make sure I get the blood I need.”

“I’ll see to it.” I turn to leave, but Lucien’s voice stops me cold.

“Oh, Soren?” His tone is light, almost playful, but I know better. There’s always a barb hidden beneath his words.

I pause at the doorway, not turning back. “What is it?”

“I just thought you should know,” he says, his voice dripping with false concern, “that witch blood can be…addictive.Especially hers. I’d hate to see you lose control and do something…regrettable.”

My jaw clenches, fangs threatening to descend. I know he’s trying to get under my skin, to plant seeds of doubt. But I can’t help the swirl of unease that runs through me.

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