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The old Gypsy shrugged. “Perhaps.” She gave the campfire another poke, embers rising like tiny stars into the air.

Broderick’s gaze flicked toward the road, his thoughts churning. He fastened his cloak with forced casualness, then he softened his tone, just for Amice. “I need tae feed. I’ll deal wi’ Davina soon enough.”

Amice said nothing.

She didn’t need to.

Broderick clenched his jaw. He wasn’t fooling her, and deep down, he knew it.

Damn the woman.

Without another word, he turned and strode away from the camp. The hood of his cloak cast his face in shadow, his steps silent as falling snow.

Time to hunt.

Time to feed.

Time to claim his midnight conquest.

Chapter Five

Once Broderick was out of sight of the Romani camp, his pace quickened. He streaked through the village shadows unseen, bypassing every drunken reveler and fire-lit alley. Only the road to the castle held his focus now. The forest flanked either side—tall, black silhouettes etched in moonlight.

He moved like mist through the underbrush, every footfall soundless. His senses stretched out—listening, tasting, searching. Then, a familiar scent drifted to him on the breeze.

Rose oil.

And beneath it…her. That rich, heady warmth that had once intoxicated him beyond reason.

He dropped low behind a thicket of gorse, muscles coiled.

Davina strode up the road, her cloak pulled tight at the throat. The moonlight kissed the waves of her cinnamon hair, turning them to molten copper to his immortal gaze. His breath caught.

Desire hit him like a war hammer. A growl rumbled in hischest.

She paused, head turning. Narrowed, searching eyes scanned the dark.

Satisfaction curled his lips as she quickened her pace.

He slipped ahead like a whisper on the wind, flying to the bend in the road. Timing his steps with hers, he emerged with practiced ease from behind a tree.

Davina halted, sapphire eyes wide. Her breath stuttered. He heard the rush of her pulse—fast, bright,sweet.

And then, her thought reached him, brittle and saturated with need.

“Broderick.”

His cock twitched.

“Eve’nin’, Davina,” he purred. “Bit reckless, don’t ye think? Walkin’ alone at night, temptin’ the shadows.” His eyes roamed her frame, drinking her in like a starving man. “There’s all manner o’ beasts lurkin’ about, hungry for easy prey.”

Davina’s plump lips—parted in surprise—puckered into annoyance and she huffed. “Well, thank you for the warning, gallant Gypsy, but I believe I can take care of myself.” She sidestepped him and continued her determined pace, her hood falling to her shoulders.

A grin split his mouth wide, and he followed, his long legs easily matching her stride.

Davina cast an irritated glance at him as he reached her side. “Honestly, Broderick, I cannot spare the distraction.” But then she halted abruptly and turned to him, a crease forming between her brows. “Whatareyou doing here, anyway?”

Broderick shrugged and clasped his hands behind his back under his cloak. “Oh, just passin’ through. ’Tis what Gypsies do.” He cocked an eyebrow, a hint of amusement tugged the cornerof his mouth.