bChapter 38 /b

The cold touch of his fingers when he takes my hand knocks the breath out of me. He pulls me from bthe /bfort of my hidden corner and leads me to the center of the hall, where people immediately stop whatever was keeping their bodies upied. They look at him as if he were the sun itself. The moaning fades away, finally allowing the music yed by the artists to take center stage. One smile from Ciro is enough for everyone to start dancing,pletely forgetting what they were doing before. Naked and half- naked bodies pair off around us.

“Will you dance with me?” He gives a pompous bow and brings the back of my hand to his lips, nting a kiss there without breaking eye contact.

The word is fighting its way out of my mouth, almost as if against my will. I’m about to vomit a “yes” at his feet when the fragrance of night itself surrounds me.

“Noi,/ii” /iCassian answers for me.

Even knowing he’s there, the cold hardness in his voice still startles me. Ciro narrows his eyes at him, and for the first time, there seems to be no trace of amusement in them.

“Why not?”

Even I ask myself that question. I turn to get a better look and see red marks on Cassian’s neck and his shirt even more open than before–there may even be scratches on his chest.

“Because she’s going to dance with me.”

I must still be dreaming–this has to be some bizarre dream. It’s the only exnation for what just came out of his mouth. He avoids being near me at all costs, and now he wants a dance? I’m definitely dreaming.

“You don’t dance with humans,” Ciro replies. “And even less with a feeder–you find it unworthy and

disgusting.”

“I do and undo as I please.”

If Ciro says anything else, I don’t hear it. Cassian drags me away with him. Unlike Ciro, he doesn’t ask me to dance or kiss the back of my hand. He simplymands, and I must obey if I want to survive another night. Maybe I should do the opposite–disobey him and embrace death.

His hand settles at the small of my back, pulling me closer until our chests brush. I feel his gaze lower slowly over my face and linger one second too long on the curve of my breasts. Heat rushes to my cheeks–it’s probably visible. His other hand grips mine, and wherever our fingers and palms touch, I feel that same tingling I despise.

No matter how hard I try to look elsewhere, his eyes seem intent on keeping me captive–I can’t escape his

I gaze. I feel like I’m sinking into the cold, deep waters hidden in those icy wells.

38b% /b

b“/bCiro’s gift is his beauty,” he says. “One look at his body, and you’ll feel the urge to fulfill his every wish. What do you humans say? Ah yes, looks aren’t everything. Well, Ciro Amery’s beauty is like a carnivorous nt that lures insects into its jaws.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

His grip tightens around my body as we start to spin again and again, drawing more and more attention from the guests. For someone marked by death, he moves through the floor with vitality. His movements are precise and elegant.

“Didn’t you feel an attraction to him from the start?”

I’m ready to deny it, but he doesn’t let me.

“I heard your heart speed up. Don’t try to lie to me–those things don’t work with me. I live attuned to your heartbeat.” He seems to realize he’s said something he didn’t mean to and keeps talking. “What I mean is, it’s very easy to fall under Ciro’s spell. Often it’s almost involuntary–his beauty is both gift and curse. Just like Aeron is too intelligent for his own good. His supernatural intelligence will drive him mad someday.”

“And why do you care?”

The thumb of the hand he holds mine with traces slowly down my palm, gliding over every small crease.

“care if you look like you want to be bitten by an Amery.”

“I didn’t look like anything,” I snap, annoyed. “Stop making things up and stop trying to control me.”

“Controlling you is exactly what I intend to do.”

A wolfish smile forms on his lips, raising the hairs on my neck. I try, in vain, to break free and leave him standing in the middle of the floor–it would humiliate him. It’s useless–he’s far stronger than me. His eyes briefly flick to something over my head, and just as I’m about to turn to see what caught his attention, he surprises me by dipping me backward in his arms. He’s no longer looking at anyone–only at me. His eyes drop to mine, trace my cheeks, linger on my lips, and finally reach the curve of my neck. He licks his bottom lip, and far from scaring me, it makes something flutter in ces it never has before.

The melody fades, giving way to the next song. Cassian, with elegance and feigned chivalry, helps me upright again. I nce behind me, where Ciro watches us with shadowed eyes.

“You smell like blood,” he says casually. “In a different way than usual.”

My thoughts immediately jump to my monthly bleeding.

“…”

Once again, I fall silent. I’m sick of myself. What’s wrong with me? Am I an idiot? I nt my feet firmly on the ground, lift my chin to banish any trace of shame, and respond withplete naturalness:

19

b38/bb% /b

b“/bI’m menstruating.”

His gaze lights upb, /bhis eyes gaining a depth I’ve only seen in his wildest moments.

“I see,” is all he says. He lets out a small sigh. “It’s time to return. Think you’ve had enough vampire attention for one night? Or do you still want that dance with Ciro?”

I feel the urge to say yes, just to annoy him, but I know that no matter how many spins Ciro gives me, my head will be elsewhere. I nod and let him lead me away from the dance we were clearly disrupting. Ciro makes a move to approach, but he must see something on Cassian’s face that stops him in his tracks and sends him turning back.

“You made a wise choice,” Cassian says almost into my ear. “I still need to punish you for wandering through my wing of the castle.”

The blood in my veins turns to frost, my cirction haltspletely, and I feel numb. Hisugh tickles my ear. He pulls my arm, making me stumble.

“What are you going to do to me?” I croak.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Leave me alone.”

“That’s impossible, little wildcat. I’ve discovered I very much enjoy disturbing your existence.”

“Why?”

His hands leave me as he opens the carriage door and practically throws me inside. Our eyes meet once more–we seem incapable of looking away. Perhaps I do have a tendency to drown in stormy waters. The sound of the door mming signals the driver to set off. With the jolts, it takes me more than one try to sit properly. It may be my imagination, but I think I hear him whisper inside my head:

“Because you disturb me. You want to shatter my most solid principles.”