Page 11 of Bleeding Love

Magic engulfed her again, and she took a step closer but then stopped.

“I’m more than happy to leave your stupid house if you’d just remove the ward. And I neither need nor want your protection.” She declared, lifting her chin in defiance. Her heart faltered, telling me a different truth.

“Really? Not even from the Order that has been gathering more and more forces in this town? Did you know that they have it watched now? There are more witch hunters out there than there are townsfolk.” Her heart raced, but her expression didn’t change. “So you’d rather go play with them than stay here with me?”

“I would,” she replied without hesitation.

I expected the answer, but it struck me all the same. The idea of her leaving my side unsettled me even more than the idea of her getting torn to pieces by the witch hunters. They knew she was close, but they hadn’t tracked her to my house yet, and if I had it my way, they never would.

“Why?” I asked, matching her frown. Wariness crept into her posture, but she stood her ground.

“Why?” she repeated quietly, striding to the table and leaning on it until our faces were a breath apart. “Because you are a despicable monster with no morals, no boundaries or emotions outside of your deprived hunger! At least the hunters are fighting and dying for what they believe in. And you? All you care about is feeding and fucking!” Her beautiful face was distorted with so much anger that it was unpleasant to look at. But what really threw me off was the smile that appeared after, full of so much disappointment and hurt that I forgot what we were talking about. At least until she added. “It doesn’t even matter if your victims are conscious, does it? Better when they don’t fight back, right? Big, strong vampires can’t handle rejection, can they? I bet even with that face of yours, not a single woman would spread her legs for you, because even humans see that…”

“Except for you,” I sneered. I didn’t intend to, but her words had poked awake something in my chest that demanded pain. I wanted to hurt her, make her cry, beg for mercy. I wanted her to suffer for all those words she threw without knowing a single thing about me. “You were quite eager to open your legs for me last night. What if I check now? Will you still be soaked and eager for my fingers? Or was that not enough for you, little witch?”

Celeste gasped, her face growing several shades paler. I cursed myself silently but held her gaze even as it filled with so much venom that I was surprised her eyes didn’t liquify out of their sockets.

My senses screamed for me to run. I moved a second before my chair exploded into pieces under the condensed energy she sent toward it. I hadn’t even sensed her weave the spell, but I wasn’t going to let her blindside me again.

She spun around as I appeared behind her, her hand slashing through the air. She had grabbed the dining knife that had been set for her, infusing her magic into the top so it would cut like fangs, burn like sunlight, and probably hurt like hell. She aimed it at my throat as another spell formed in her free hand, making the air crackle with warning.

Dodging her knife was easy, but not knowing what that spell would do made me hesitate. She couldn’t kill me with it, but if she could stun me long enough, she could use her weapon to stab my heart. She had already beaten me once. I wasn’t taking any chances.

I evaded the blade again, letting her draw closer. Her irises widened in excitement as her hand flew toward my chest, sending out the spell. She should have known that wouldn’t work. The one second it took for the spell to explode outward was more than enough for me to step out of its trajectory. Her magic slammed into the wall, barreling through it like it was made of paper. The sound of destruction echoed through the house, but I ignored it, too focused on my hand that had found her throat.

I lifted her up and slammed her on the table, the rattle sending the vase with fresh flowers to the floor. She struggled against my grip, her magic rising to protect her, but I was done playing around. I couldn’t let her bring down the house or hurt herself in the process.

My fingers tightened around her throat and I dragged her to the edge of the table, grabbing her other hand just as another spell started to form over her palm. Despite my better judgment, I brought her wrist to my face and sunk my teeth into it. She screamed in surprise when I sucked the first gulp of blood, her delightful taste burning my tongue in the most pleasant of ways. My anger quenched, and I sucked harder, realizing with relief that her spell had faded and her hand had slacked in my grip.

Lowering my gaze to her face, I noticed with a hint of satisfaction that her eyes were glazed, her breathing—ragged. Contrary to what humans thought, getting bitten by a vampire only hurt when the fangs opened the wound—or if the vampire wanted to make it hurt, of course—but after that, all the victim could feel was pleasure. It was like a drug that made the mind relax and the body surrender, which was why it was rare for anybody to struggle or escape. Even our biggest enemy could not resist the pull, let alone a witch who already wanted me deep down.

Celeste stared at me dizzily, her lips parted and gaze full of lust. I paused, remembering the smell of her, the taste of her, the feel of her as her hips rolled in search of more contact. I was tempted to slide my hand under her skirt and bare her to me. To drive myself deep inside of her and let her come from the high of my bite, only to take her up there with my cock. To prove to her that no matter what she did, she couldn’t win against me.

She could never escape this. She couldn’t escapeme.

A tear rolled down her cheek and my fingers stopped on her knee. An invisible hand gripped my throat, while another one dug deep into my chest, squeezing my cold, dead heart into something akin to pain.

I pulled my fangs out of her wrist, watching her lie defenselessly on the table, eyes full of resignation. Ready to die, to be killed. By me.

There wasn’t even a whiff of fear coming from her. Every living thing stank of it when they realized their end was near—even if they were drowning in pleasure. I stared down at her, completely at a loss at what was going on.

Why was she so angry at me for merely touching her, but suddenly feeling so resigned to die? Did she hate my touch enough to want to end her existence? Why did I feel my chest tighten at the thought of that?

Fuck, was this really a spell? I couldn’t feel her magic inside of me, and I was absolutely sure witches couldn’t influence our minds. But what if she could? What if she did? Even after trying to kill me several times, I hadn’t killed her. I only bit her to make her stop resisting.

I… didn’t want to hurt her, not like the others. I didn’t want her to look at me like that. Like I was just a monster.

What was wrong with me?

I withdrew from her and, as if sensing the danger passing, her eyes fluttered closed. Her heartbeat grew slower as the smell of blood permeated the air.

“Master?” a hesitant voice asked from the door, and I turned to see one of the male servants peeking over it with fear in his eyes. “Is she…dead?”

A low growl rose in my chest before I could stop it, and the young man whimpered in terror. The thought of her dying, even by my own hand, made me almost as angry as the fact that she had just called me an unfeeling monster. Yet when I looked back at her limp, quiet form, I understood why he asked. She was pale and her chest was barely moving. Her hair had fallen out of the updo she had it earlier, and blood was dripping from the table next to her wrist. Unlike me, he couldn’t hear her heart beating.

“Tend to her wounds and put her back in her room. Stay with her until she wakes. Make sure she eats.” I commanded, straightening my clothes before heading toward the door. I paused by the hole in the wall that her spell had created, clicking with my tongue. I’d need to get someone to fix that, too.

“Yes, Master,” the servant replied, bowing his head as I passed by him. I was just putting on my coat when I heard his steps follow. “M-M-Master?”

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