Page 17 of Blood Moon Heat

Pretender gathered up the dishes left from my dinner. The vampire didn’t talk much, at least not to me, but he gave me a nod of approval when he picked up my empty glass.

I’d barely stopped myself from running a finger along the inside of it to get every last drop of Nero’s blood. It’d still been warm when Pretender brought it in, and I’d been craving more of it since the glass I’d had earlier at breakfast. Who was I kidding. I couldn’t stop thinking about drinking straight from Nero’s vein.

His blood was so rich and smooth, gods, addicting. I’d never had blood like it. It warmed my belly and between my thighs and zinged through my veins. Too bad the male it came from was cold, sadistic, and completely deranged.

Three days had passed since Nero had tricked me into feeding from him. Nothing had changed for me, my circumstances were the same, but I wasn’t sure giving up and wasting away to escape this hell was an option anymore, not with the way I craved Nero’s blood. And after what he did to bend me to his will, he’d never let me, even if I tried.

Images flashed through my mind, and the burn of humiliation washed over me again when I thought about the way I’d behaved—about what I begged him to do to me. My bonded was cruel and selfish and twisted, and still I’d begged for him to touch me. Thanks to fate, I craved that monster; I craved him just like he said I did. He’d seen right through me so easily.

Pretender opened the door to leave and the sound of music reached me from somewhere in the distance, like it did every night. “What is that?”

“That’s not for me to say,” he said, turning back to me. “I’m sure Nero will tell you when he’s ready.”

“Are you? Because I’m not. That would require us to talk.”

Pretender watched me from under the hood of his sweatshirt for several seconds, as though he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head, deciding to keep me in the dark like his master, and left, locking me in.

Restless, I paced the room, then with nothing else to do, I showered and got ready for bed.

As I pulled back the covers, my hands shook, but not from fear, from anger, from the helplessness I felt. No, I hadn’t talked to Nero for the last three days, not since he forced me to feed, but that hadn’t stopped him from coming to my room. He stood at the end of my bed for hours every night. I stayed still, quiet, like he demanded. I couldn’t face another confrontation like the last, so I pretended I was asleep while that violet gaze burned through me.

How long could this go on? I wasn’t sure I could take much more.

Desperate for any kind of escape, I selected a book from the shelf, one I’d read many times and flicked through the pages until I was sleepy.

Not long after I switched off the lamp, the sound of the lock turning reached through the darkness, followed by the flash of light from the hall as Nero opened and closed the door, shutting himself in with me. It never took long after I turned out the light. It was as if he stood outside my door, waiting for it.

My breath hitched, and my heart instantly beat faster. His presence in this room felt heavy, and his rich scent filled the small space, making my skin hot and tight, making me crave things I didn’t want to want from him.

And as the time ticked by, the longer I lay there while he did whatever it was he did, taking from me whatever it was he needed in this messed-up scenario, anger began to boil inside me.

No. I couldn’t do this anymore, not for one more night. I couldn’t, wouldn’t cower under the covers another moment. I was hot, and irritated, and afraid, and furious, and with a hiss, I shoved back the covers and sat up.

Nero stood at the end of the bed. Utterly still. He wore dark pants and a white shirt, and his arms hung loose at his sides, the sleeves rolled up, revealing his tattooed forearms. He looked as cold as ever and as painfully beautiful as the first time I’d seen him.

He said nothing.

I held his gaze, not easy, but I managed it somehow. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to do, give him a taste of his own medicine perhaps. Make him feel like the caged creature, or the featured attraction at the freak show, the way I did.

The silence was a living, breathing entity, like a third participant in this standoff between us.

His nostrils flared, and then his lips peeled back, revealing long, sharp fangs.

“How does it feel? Being treated like an animal at the zoo?” I said.

His head tilted to the side, then he licked his lips. “She speaks.”

My belly went all weird. I got the feeling my refusal to speak the last few days had been getting to him.

He slid his hands into his pockets. “What did I say you were to do when I came into this room at night, Mina?”

“Honestly? I don’t care anymore.” I got out of bed and hoped he didn’t see the way I trembled, though it wasn’t like I could hide my fear, he felt it regardless. Still, I didn’t want him to see me shake. “I may be your bonded, but we’re not mated. I don’t owe you respect, and you certainly haven’t earned it. If you want something from me, then I expect to be paid in return.”

One moment he was several yards away, the next he was looming over me. “And what is it you think you want, little doll?”

I bit my lip, dragging in a steadying breath as I gathered my courage. “I will give you anything you want, but in return I want my freedom. I want to be able to come and go from this room as I see fit, to go where I want, to live my life…and at night, I’ll come back here, to this room, and I’ll be your little doll. I’ll lie in this bed, and you can stand at the end of it all goddamn night if that’s what you want.”

His lips curled up, but it wasn’t a smile; it was a parody of one. Nero felt no amusement or joy. He wasn’t capable of a sincere smile. “You think watching you sleep is payment enough for all you just asked for?” He ran the backs of his fingers down the side of my face, and I shivered from his cool touch. “Oh, no, bride, that wouldn’t be nearly enough.”

---