Page 92 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

“A Silent Brother I met in Thornvale,” I said cautiously. “I would have asked you to teach me, but… the High Tongue is your work, your passion. I would rather you have that time, than spending hours a day to teach me.”

She stared at me, her hands frozen in midair, her quick breaths the only sound in the room.

Then she closed the journal, laid it atop the table with her pen across it, and crawled from the bed. I watched as my wife smoothed her skirt down, took a breath, and crossed to me.

She said nothing. She simply looked up into my face, examining me intently, so keen I wanted to turn my face so she couldn’t see it in all its flawed vileness.

I almost started when she reached up, cupping my face in her hands.

Cirri stared into my eyes for a long minute. Then she rose up on her tiptoes, pulling me down to her as she closed her eyes, and kissed me.

Kissed my lips, even with my terrible fangs. Even with my hideous visage before her. Her lips were soft and smooth, moving over mine even as I didn’t dare to move for fear of cutting her. She kissed like she meant it, like sheenjoyedit—like I was a man, not a beast.

My first true kiss with my wife.

My skin prickled, heat rising in my veins and thirst in my throat, lust and hunger at war. I clasped my hands around herwaist, holding her as close as I dared until she opened her eyes again, lowering herself to the floor.

You deserve so much more than you believe you do, she said, hands moving slowly.You are so much more than I deserve.

“No,” I said hoarsely, my lips still tingling where she’d touched me, and Cirri cut me off with an abrupt gesture.

Don’t even say it, she told me.Not now.

She pulled at the ties of her bodice, unlacing them, shedding cloth until she wore only the sheer white undergown of the dress. She took my hand and led me to the bed, pushing me against it.

I sat obediently, curious and trying to kill my hope, but Cirri brought it back into full flower as she climbed into my lap, straddling me as she had on our wedding night.

Here, she said, taking my hand and putting it over her throat and chest. My palm burned where her pulse fluttered beneath it, where the softness of her breasts pressed against me.I’m ready now.

“Cirri…” There were still so many things I wished to do, but all of my plans hinged on one thing: to keep her fear at bay. I would not feed from her throat, or let her see my naked body. For now, just drinking from her wrist was enough of a gift.

I curled my other arm around her waist, holding her close, unable to stop my cock from stiffening against her. Ancestors, to feel her around me as I fed… a shiver ran through me.

“The things I want to do to you.” The growl in my voice had returned. “I don’t want to lose control.”

She scowled at me, shook her loosened hair back in a curled mass, and touched my face.You won’t lose control. I have faith in you. But… maybe use less venom this time. The scowl broke into a momentary sheepish smile.

I couldn’t bring myself to smile back or make a joke. Not while her full weight was pressed against my aching cock, onlytwo thin layers of fabric between us, or the pulse under my palm thrummed like a bird’s wings, or the rich musky-rose scent of her filled my nose.

Every sense narrowed in on her, hunting, craving.

Her smile faded as she took in the look on my face, something I couldn’t control. Every shred of my willpower was focused on keeping my hands gentle, on not ripping that damn gown from her like cobwebs and exposing her entirely.

She swallowed hard, and my eyes went to the motion, focusing on the light tracery of blue veins beneath her skin.

Cirri carefully cupped my face again, and gave me another of the kisses I craved, exploring my lips with her own, the tip of her tongue flicking against me.

Then she tilted her head back, exposing the smooth column of her throat, bringing me to her.

My teeth ached, the venom already welling. I opened my mouth, poising my fangs over the pounding vein in her neck.

I felt her shiver, felt the goosebumps rise over her skin as my breath touched her, and her nipples tightened, pressed against my chest.

Ancestors, gods, whoever’s out there… help me. Let me not break her.

My fangs pierced her, sweet, hot blood flooding my mouth. Cirri gasped, arching against me, and the lithe motion of her body rocking against me, combined with the heady taste of her blood, almost sent me over the edge into the predator’s mind: taking what I wanted. Demanding what I needed.

I pulled her tighter, as close as I could get without being inside her, and fed.

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