Page 3 of Blood On His Lips

That he’d even tapped into that side of my nature disturbed me to no end. I would chalk it up to his greater experience sizing up opponents and arrowing to the heart of their wants, but the strange pull between us might be just as much to blame. A pull, a sense of familiarity, of sameness.

Gods of my mother. In a matter of hours, his wicked sensuality had seduced me to the point where—for a fleeting moment—I wondered what it would be like.

The hard body over mine, hair teasing my skin. His power-drenched gaze spearing into my soul as his cock brutalized my body, his teeth grazing the soft skin of my neck and breasts.

That cruel mouth—everywhere. His hands holding me down, forcing my submission to our desire.

No, you can’t have him,I told myself viciously, biting the inside of my cheek as my lengthening nails bit into my thighs. My fingers flexed, but there was no enemy present. This would be much easier if I could make up my mind. Fuck him, or kill him? But not both.

Why not?

It took me a moment to realize the insidious question wasn’t mine.

My cheeks flamed.Go away now, Darkan. I need some alone time in my mind.

Sounds interesting,he purred.Go ahead. I’ll just. . .watch.

If I’d been a little less self-aware, I would have gaped. Darkan had never indicated any interest in lingering in my mind when I pleasured myself. Why would he? He wasn’t a male, he was a figment of—

Icepicks stabbed my temples again.

“Aerinne?”

I leaned over my knees, clutching my head. There was a curtain in my mind, and when I snarled and tried ripping it away, it retreated, like a magician’s illusion.

“Aerinne!”

Hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me out of my reverie. I felt wetness on my cheeks and swiped it away. “I’m fine.”

Numair stared anxiously into my face. “Another of those migraines?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about it. Everyone is stressed right now.”

He released me, settling back into his seat. “They’re getting worse.”

I leaned back, closing my eyes—though this time I would stay out of the deep recesses of my mind—my thighs pressed tightly together. “I’ll see someone if they worsen. I need to process this evening for a few minutes, then we’ll talk.”

“That bad?”

I doubted my grimace reassured them. “I extracted a promise of protection from him, as Nora advised.”

After a few minutes of silence, I opened my eyes and recounted the evening’s events.

“Shit,” Juliette said. “That bad.”

“Yes.”

Numair stared out the carriage window, frowning. “Did he. . .touch you? Other than the bruise?”

“He didn’t force himself on me.”

“Would it be force?” Juliette asked.

Silence descended in the carriage. At least two of us shied from the true answer to that question.

Tell them the truth,Darkan said, a demand in his sibilant voice.Tell them what youwant—if you dare to face it yourself.

I almost shuddered, sinking into the shroud of Darkan’s voice, into the memory of an inescapable grip on my hair, of the Prince holding my mouth hostage. Power brimming in the body of a male more beautiful than any in the city, taunting me with death and pleasure. With the promise that if I lost control with him. . .he could take it. Take me.

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