Page 2 of Promised in Blood

Regret and guilt wrap around my heart like a vise. “I know, my love.” I rest my head on his chest, fully aware that he speaks the truth.

And that I have no choice but to disobey him.

Chapter

One

OPHELIA

2 DAYS EARLIER

The world around me has changed infinitely. Every color is more vibrant, every sound sharper, each scent stronger and more potent than before. Yet I know, paradoxically, that everything remains exactly the same.

“How are you feeling, little one?” Alexandros’s words wash over me, blanketing me in warmth and anchoring me back to the present.

I suck in a deep lungful of air. I have no words to even begin to accurately explain how I’m feeling right now. My head is spinning with new emotions, thoughts, questions. It’s hard to believe that it’s been a little more than an hour since I was in the library with Cadence. It feels like a lifetime ago. “I don’t know. Different. Stronger?”

Alexandros arches an eyebrow. “Powerful?”

That would be an understatement. I feel like I could shoot lightning from the tips of my fingers. I nod and sink my teeth into my bottom lip, feeling both awkward and strangely unrestrained. “Yes. What just happened to me?”

“I believe you just unlocked your powers.”

“B-because we had…” I blush at the thought of saying the word sex to him despite the fact that I’m sitting on his lap and he’s still inside me.

“While I would like to think your powers were unlocked because of how well I fucked you, I think learning of your heritage is the true cause.”

The memory of what happened—of all those women who were tortured and murdered, the children who were torn from their mother’s arms—makes my chest tighten. “The pain.”

He pulls me closer. “I know.”

“Your pain, Alexandros. I’m so sorry.”

“We should get back to the house.” He slides himself out of me, and I wince at the burn and the loss of him. I can already feel him closing himself off to me.

The house. The boys. Where are they? “Why can’t I hear them?”

He shuffles me back enough that he can zip up his pants, and then he tucks my hair behind my ear. His fingertips tenderly brush over my face. He doesn’t have to ask who I’m referring to. “I blocked them.”

“You blocked them?”

He nods.

“But why?”

“Can you imagine how much of a distraction they would have been if they had felt even a fraction of what happened in here?”

I press my lips together and hum my agreement, suppressing a laugh at the thought. “They’d have been breaking the door down to get in here.”

“Exactly, agápi mou.”

My love. I will never tire of him calling me that. “And you can block them from my head too? How?”

“All bloodborne vampires are born with a gift. Mine lies in the power of my mind.”

“Like what? You can?—”

“Ophelia,” he says, his tone assertive but somehow still gentle. “Not now.”

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