Page 36 of Fated In Blood

She was a study in opposites. An innocent, and yet there was a weary worldliness about her that made me intensely curious, a jaded bitterness I’d detected that first time I saw her. And after what she did to Tyrell…

Rohr was right.

She was the secret weapon we’d been looking for. We had few allies, and overthrowing Tyrell had been Riordan’s goal since his sire died and left him in charge of this corrupted kingdom. She’d done more damage in one night than either of us had managed in a decade.

Fuck, that was an understatement.

The last time we were there, we’d almost ended up dead.

I drank in her delicate scent, hyperaware that every inch of our bodies touched, how perfectly she fit against me, how fate had thrown us together, now, when I’d given up on ever escaping the fucking chaos that was my life.

Yet here she was, tearing my world down to its foundations.

Making me want to live not in the past, but maybe wonder what the future held.

My chest swelled painfully and I wondered at the destruction of the walls I’d worked so hard to erect. I wondered what it said of me, that they’d fallen so easily and so completely, in the matter of hours, at the feet of a female whose name I didn’t even know.

I stroked her bare hip, the skin cool beneath my fingers, marveling at how innocent she looked asleep. She wasn’t old, late twenties, perhaps, and already her scent was carved into me like the scars that peppered my body,

I twisted a strand of her honey-colored hair around my finger, marveling at how the colors melded together into one. Smooth as silk, although…I plucked a leaf out of it, then a twig.

Reality slowly crept in.

We lay at the center of the gardens—out of sight of Crimson House, thank Christ—in a nest of crushed spring grass and bits of blue gauzy fabric. She was practically naked; I was practically fully clothed. Still had my boots on.

Fuck.Fuck.

She deserved better.So much better. Our first time shouldn’t have been during an out-of-control feeding frenzy in the middle of the formal gardens.

She should have been pampered, romanced, spoiled. Courted, though I didn’t know how to do such things anymore. But we should be in a bed, under roof, not out here in the grass while I rutted her like an animal.What the fuck was I thinking?

I wasn’t.

I’d been too caught up in…her.

I shook her, careful to keep her head nestled against my chest. Wrapped her in a layer of my shadows, my magic following every soft, delicious curve. I couldn’t fight this overwhelming need to touch every inch of her, to never break the connection between us.

I’d never been with a newly-Made vampire before—had only heard stories—but something about tonightwasunnaturally intense. Even with her in my arms, I needed her closer, the tug in my chest turning painful when she lifted her head and stared past me into the sun-speckled shade, like she was thinking of running again.

“You’re at Crimson House. You’re feeling logy because you fed for the first time. That’s normal. You’re safe.” I pushed her tangled hair away to see her face better. “Let me take you insidewhere I’ll explain…everything.” God, where the fuck would I even start?

I’d make her so many promises. How I’d keep her safe and protected, how she was part of a clan now and we’d always take care of her. Then I’d take her to my fucking chamber and keep her there for seven days.

Get her into my bed and feed her. Fuck her again.

Every cell in my body demanded I sink my cock into her, lose myself in her again. I couldn’t pinpoint when these compulsions came about, only that I was utterly obsessed with the girl in my arms.

I rose, balancing her carefully against my chest, buttoning up my pants with my other hand because I sure as fuck wasn’t ghosting to the main house with my cock hanging out, still coated in her essence, my entire being coated with the scent of her desire.

“Hang on tight.” I burrowed my nose into the crook of her neck, drinking in her sweet scent as I dematerialized. “I can’t believe I’m just getting around to asking this, but what is your name, love?”

Her beautiful voice was dreamy, a drowsy smile playing on her lips when she tightened her arms around my neck and spoke the words that turned my heart to stone.

“Evangeline Silverwood. But I suppose you can call me Evie, after everything.”

My feet hitthe floor of Crimson House and I stumbled forward, thanking Christ I’d landed on the rug when I crashed to my knees, dumping the girl onto the floor.

She rolled across the flagstones, coming to rest at the base of a suit of armor.

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