Page 3 of Blood Tribute

He barely leaned toward her, but the space between them seemed to shrink to nothing. She found herself tilting her head back to look at him. His reflective eyes caught the moonlight and glowed gold. He didn’t smell like blood and death. His scent was warm with spices and musky with masculine sweetness.

“I am here to take you away from the mortal world,” he said. “Forever.”

Her breath halted in her throat. Her carefully constructed plan crumbled. What he wanted was so much worse than her blood.

“You want to turn me into one of you?” she breathed.

“You owe it to my brother.”

She should have known a Hesperine would have a more twisted vengeance in mind. Not even her death would be enough for him. He wanted her, the last descendant of her devout line, to live forever as a heretic.

She yanked against his hold, scrambling away. He let her go so easily that she stumbled.

“I would never transform you by force,” he said. “It seems I’ll have to make you realize you want the Gift of immortality.”

Oh, gods. He did intend to play with her.

“Give me your blood, as you offered,” he demanded. “Then, if you still wish to banish Hesperines from your lands, we will never set foot here again. But if, after three nights with me, you cannot deny you want what I’ve shown you…you will let me transform you.”

She had no trouble imagining what he planned to show her to change her mind.

“I am only offering you my blood.” She hated how unsteady her voice was. “You will not take anything else. I want you to swear on your goddess.”

“What does an oath in her name mean to you? Your people persecute us for worshiping her.”

“Your kind are devoted enough to follow her into cursed eternity. Swearing by her means something to you.”

“I will expect your oath in return.”

“Very well. I, Lady Honora of Gloria, swear to give you my blood for three nights, in the name of Andragathos, God of Virtue and patron of my line.”

“I, Firstblood Daryavesh, swear by Hespera, Goddess of Night, that I will only take what you offer me willingly.”

Deceptive Hesperine. That was not the promise she had asked of him. But the loophole he had left himself would win him nothing. Her blood was all he would get. She would die before she dishonored her parents’ memory by offering a Hesperine her body.

Letting him bite her was defilement enough. But if she had to pay for her failures in blood, so be it.

“First, I will show you what the Drink is really like.” He took a step forward.

On instinct, she backed up, only to trip against a boulder embedded in the grassy hillside. The Hesperine caught her and eased her down to sit on the stone.

She was about to sit here where her parents had been martyred and accept a heretic’s bite.

Should she draw Arceo and try to end this now? Could she kill the Hesperine without letting him do this to her?

No, she was not foolish enough to try. She was neither a mage nor a warrior. She didn’t stand a chance against the Hesperine unless she went through with her plan. She must survive his bite.

Three nights. Three doses of the Sunfire Poison in her blood. The knights applied the alchemical mixture to their blades, but without combat training, she must be creative. She had drunk the potion, turning herself into her weapon.

When Hesperines were slain, their bodies disappeared in a flash of light. To prove her deed to the Order, she would have to remove a trophy from him while he was still alive. After his third feeding, the poison would take effect, rendering him too slow and weak to fight her while she removed his heart.

She watched him uncurl her fingers, one by one. His nostrils flared, and his pupils expanded, turning his irises to gold rings.

He lifted her hand toward his mouth and licked her cut. It should have stung, but all she felt was the slow stroke of his tongue across her skin.

His hands tightened on hers, and if it was possible, he went even more still. As if held himself in check by a thread.

Before her eyes, her wound healed.

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