The night shattered with the sound of her breath.
A gasp — soft, broken — then silence.
Kael's fangs pierced her skin, and warmth spilled against his tongue. Her blood was unlike any he had ever tasted — not merely mortal, not entirely witch, but something ancient, something that sang through him like fire wrapped in silk.
It was the best...it tasted more enticing than the last time.
He drank.
And the world narrowed to her pulse.
Each heartbeat throbbed against his lips, each tremor of her body fed the hunger clawing at his soul. His fingers dug into her waist, pulling her closer. The demon in him exulted, whispering that she was his — his to claim, his to taste, his to keep.
But then—
Her hand rose, trembling, to his cheek.
"Kael…" she whispered, voice faint but pleading.
Her touch seared him. Not because it burned, but because it didn't. It was human, fragile — a reminder of everything he wasn't.
