“Poppy,” he breathed, curling his fingers into my hair. “Do you—?”
My head snapped down. I sank my fangs into the flesh above the first wound. A hiss escaped him as I gripped the back of his neck. I drank deeply, pulling hard as my heart pounded.
Pain pricked at my senses, burning hot. It wasn’t mine. It was his. I was causing…
Keep taking.
His voice was strained when he spoke again. “I need you to release your fangs.”
I drank, mindlessly obeying the cold, dark need growing within me that spoke to the part of me that was the shadows in my blood, commanding me to keep feeding, to keep taking until I felt his heartbeat slow and flutter.
Until it ceased beating.
No, I didn’t want that.
I needed to stop, but I couldn’t. Oh, gods, I couldn’t stop.
Panic surged, scattering my thoughts into a chaotic frenzy. My eyes snapped open. The blood-red haze wrapped in shadows had followed me into the chamber, rippling across the bed behind us and rising like vicious swords. A smell flowed around us, overpowering the scents of pine, spice, and fresh citrus in the snow.
I knew that smell.
Lilacs.
Stale lilacs.
Death.
His voice was in my ear, sounding strained and distant. The hand buried in my hair trembled and then firmed. My grip on his neck tightened.
Just a little bit more. I just needed to keep taking until his body turned as cold as mine. Until I ended him. Death was in my blood, I was meant to do this, it was a part of my nature—
Tension seized my muscles as my thoughts echoed back to me. That…that didn’t feel right. Death wasn’t in my nature.
My attention shifted to the hand wrapped around the back of his neck. At first, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. Shadows tinged in silver and gold swirled beneath my skin. My gaze followed the display of eather beneath my flesh and the wispy tendrils of essence seeping from my fingers into the air.
I squeezed my eyes shut as his hand slid to my cheek. His fingers pressed in firmly, attempting to unlock my jaw.
A loud crash shattered the silence of the chamber. His fingers dropped from my cheeks. “What…fuck?” he growled, his voice fading in and out as I remained latched to his throat.
Something hard and rough clamped down on my shoulder, and a sound rumbled from my chest in warning.
“Get your hand off her,” Casteel warned. “Now.”
A heartbeat later, my fangs ripped through his flesh as someone yanked me backward. There was resistance as Casteel still held on to me, refusing to let go even though he’d held death in his embrace. But he was either weakened just enough that he couldn’t hold on, or the pain of his flesh tearing had momentarily stunned him. I lost my grip on him. Maybe because I hadn’t taken nearly enough blood.
Suddenly, I was airborne and flying backward. I smacked into the wall, and pain flared on the back of my head and down my spine, throwing me into the darkness.
CHAPTER 3
CASTEEL
I fell forward onto my hands, feeling the hot gush of blood running down my throat. I ignored the pain, and my head snapped up just as Poppy smacked into the wall.
Time seemed to grind to a halt as she yelped and crumpled to the floor. Her limbs were splayed at awkward angles, her body completely still.
I saw red.
I sawfuckingred. Tasted it. Became it.
