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“Maelor has tasted you now,” Sion said, his expression darkening. “He’ll crave more of your blood tonight, if he can get it. Come with me.”

A chill ran up my nape, and reluctantly, I followed him to the lunarium door. As we walked through the candlelit halls, the shadows seemed to shift, as if alive and watching. My fingers brushed the bloodstained fabric of my dress, the white ruined by streaks of crimson.

I swallowed hard. “What happens when Maelor gets like this?”

Sion didn’t break stride. “He’ll be out of his mind for the next day or two, hunting humans. The self-loathing comes after.”

My stomach clenched. “And which humans is he most likely to try to kill?”

Sion stopped, turning to face me, his eyes deadly serious. “You, if he can find you.” He searched my face. “Has he ever drunk from you before tonight?”

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”

Sion cursed under his breath. “Fucking brilliant idea on his part, but that explains tonight, I suppose. And it means I will be staying in your room, mortal, no arguments. Vampires can get addicted to the blood of certain people, so when he smelled your blood tonight, it sent him into a frenzy. I suspect he’s been struggling ever since he first drank from you—in Ruefield, was it? He started losing it back in Ruefield.”

We reached my room, and he pushed open the door, waiting for me to enter. “Bolt the door behind me. Lock the windows. I’m sending soldiers to guard your door. I’ll return in a few minutes.”

“Do you really need to stay here with me if I have the door bolted and guards outside?”

“You know Maelor to be a good person, but right now, he’s not in charge. The darkness has a hold of him. The instincts he’s so desperate to repress have exploded like a dormant volcano. They are overwhelming him, and he will tear through anything to get to you.”

He closed the door, and I bolted it shut behind him, as ordered, with a loud click that echoed through the room.

The moment he was out the door, I peeled off my bloodstained dress and washed the blood off myself in the bathroom, tossing my ruined gown into the hamper. I pulled on a fresh dress that was bright red and soft against my skin.

Crossing to the bookshelf, I selected a book, then dropped into the chair by the window. But as I opened it, I could hardly focus on the words. I peered outside, watching the flicker of silver armor shifting in the shadows as vampires spread out, hunting for Maelor.

I glanced down at the cut on my forearm, now just an angry red line, slightly raised around the wound.

Who the hell fixed the razor clam shell to my chair? It seemed like a deliberate trap.

I tried again to focus on the text, flipping the pages, but I wasn’t taking anything in. Something about pious eyes, passionate groans, and rosy buds…

When a knock sounded on my door, I stood, dropping the book in my chair. I unbolted the lock and opened the door. Sion stood outside, his arms folded, eyes flaring with darkness.

“Why did you open the door?”

“Because you knocked?” I said.

“I could have been Maelor.”

“Right, well, I thought in his crazed, animal state, he might not be knocking.” I opened the door wider, and Sion stepped inside. “You’re absolutely sure that you need to be here?”

Sion turned, bolting the door shut. “Yes, and I’ve got soldiers lined up outside as well. I will make sure that nothing else happens to you tonight. In fact, I will make sure nothing happens to you as long as I’m alive. Or rather, as long as I’m undead.”

Sion glided past me, heading for the chair I’d been sitting in. He picked up my book, dropping it in his lap as he sat, making himself comfortable. “Ripe as the finest summer fruit, with gleaming pink lips begging to be tasted…let a man kneel before you to drink.You really picked the filthiest thing on the shelf, didn’t you?”

“I haven’t even looked at it yet.”

He flipped the pages, staring at the text. “Rosy buds to tempt a man out of his wits.It’s about a Raven of the Order who keeps a harem of women in tunnels.”

“And what’s going on with the search for Maelor?”

“No sightings of him from the soldiers around Veilcross,” he said. “But one of our trackers followed his scent down to the sea. He already managed to kill a thrall by the shore, and he left her drained body on the rocks. That should sate his appetite for a little while, but we have no idea where he is.” He turned another page, then looked up from the book again, golden eyes narrowing on my arm. “How did you manage to cut yourself on a simple chair?”

“It was a razor clam shell. Someone had attached it to the chair. It seemed intentional.”

Shadows stained the air around him, and he went very still.