Page 43 of Our Sins in Silver (Coven of Sin 3)

“Your people will call you queen. But my brothers and I know better.” He extended his arm toward me, wiggling his fingers for a second as he examined the warmth soaking into his pale skin. Like that, all the shadows and hardness seemed to melt from his countenance. He cupped my cheek, his middle finger tenderly stroking the edge of my ear. “For only a goddess can breathe life into dead things.”

This was all a dream, yet I felt like I was really standing in the library, bursting with all the heat of a thousand scorching suns. Sucking in my bottom lip, I chewed on my grin hard enough to taste blood. A bead of ruby-red liquid slipped down my chin and throat, and Sterling’s eyes tracked it. Just as it slipped beneath the neckline of my nightgown, I let the garment fall from my shoulders and pool at my feet.

My prince let out a breath that tickled the pink skin of my bare breasts. He fell to his knees before me, and taking my hips in his hands, he leaned into the light and captured the blood with a kiss. Then he bowed his head back to peer up at me, and his sin-streaked lips smiled.

“You’re an answer to an old prayer I thought had gone unheard.”

“And what did you pray for?”

His tongue lapped up my blood from his lips as the corners of his mouth curled to reveal his fangs. “Salvation,” he rasped.

A wave of infernal heat spliced through me as I found myself completely exposed to Sterling. The manner in which he regarded me was rapidly turning from reverence to wolfish hunger. He dipped forward to deliver another kiss—this time lower on my body and with more teeth.

I stepped back a few paces and sent him a mischievous grin as I twirled in the sunlight and ducked behind a shelf.

I glanced over my shoulder to see him round the shelving unit, sidestepping a pile of books that was almost as tall as him. My heart lodged inside my esophagus at the wicked way his mouth bent. Half his profile was haloed in light and the other half in shadows like the dark side of the moon.

“Come back here.”

I didn’t have to ask what he intended to do with me if I obeyed. I could practically taste his need in the air, and I could most definitely see it outlined in the fabric of his gray sweatpants.

I took a few steps backward, snickering. “Why?”

“You know exactly why.” His voice rumbled in the back of his throat. “Now be a good girl and come here so I can show you how I intend to claim you once we wake.”

The metallic tang of my blood bloomed on my tongue when I bit my lip. His nostrils flexed, and he groaned. He came for me, his long-legged strides chewing through the distance between us. “Come here.Now.”

Sparks of excitement flared through my chest at this sharp shift in his disposition. He’d gone from gentleman to predator.

“Catch me first.”

He arched one brow. The last streaks of white in his irises completely bled over. “The last time I hunted you, it ended in half my library getting trashed. You remember what I told you about my books?”

“That you’re normally a gentleman, but if I abuse your books you’ll make an exception to that rule.”

With a bob of his head, his expression darkened in a way that had electric sparks shimmering up my back. The sun couldn’t actually damage Sterling here because the sun wasn’t truly present. Just like there weren’t any books to abuse. Everything was an illusion.

So I flung a book at him. I didn’t have to reach out and grab it. I simply imagined it, and my magical energy pulling at the strings of Sterling’s dream made it happen. He dodged it, hissing through a wicked grin—a grin filled with filthy promises that he had every intention of fulfilling once he got his hands on me.

I wanted him so bad. I had to fight the urge that was pushing me to throw myself at him.

This needed to be teased out, and if I could do it in a way that would test the bounds of my newfound magical abilities, all the better.

His hiss turned to a full-blown growl when I sent another book—a heavy tome of a fucker—zinging at his head, pages flapping. He side-stepped the book and then displayed his feline agility and speed as he danced around the dozens of books I sent sailing in his direction.

I picked up my pace, my heart thundering when the torrent of loose pages settled to reveal that I hadn’t slowed him down a bit. I approached the fireplace and dropped to crawl through it, imagining the scene I wanted to find on the other side. When I emerged on the other end, I got up and dusted the soot from my knees.

A frown split my lips when the room took shape. It was unfamiliar and dark, the walls lined with heavy shelving units packed with old manuscripts. The younger, blond-haired Sterling sat at a desk, his hands rubbed raw and his fingers quaking as he dragged his quill across a blood-stained piece of parchment. A young man stood beside him, concern underscoring the shadows of his eyes.

I felt Sterling enter the memory, and he froze up when he took in the scene.

“I–I didn’t mean to pull this up,” I stammered. “I don’t even know how I did. I was trying to—”

“Elijah...” Sterling spoke in a rail-thin whisper, so low I almost didn’t hear him.

My skin prickled, recognizing the name he’d called out in his sleep. “Who’s Elijah?”

“My apprentice. He died because of your father’s little trick of wearing faces that don’t belong to him.”

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