Page 4

CELESTE

W hen I walked the ship, I took my time beneath the moonlight on the upper level before heading inside to find some entertainment.

I meandered across the decks, ducking in and out of different venues, and was surprised to spot the shifter who’d gaped at me the night before—now standing center stage, singing like he’d been born for the stage.

He appeared to have found his voice.

I paused, listening for a few seconds. He was…captivating. Those tight leather pants, the black button-down shirt opened just enough to hint at golden skin beneath. And his voice—like velvet seduction. Smooth and sinful. He purred like a cat.

But he was too young for me. Besides, I wasn’t here for romance. I needed to shake off any thoughts about how enticing he looked—and how delicious his blood would taste…

I moved on, wandering the decks, eventually returning to the Celestial Lounge later that night to listen to the piano while I sipped a glass of cabernet laced with a little B positive.

After the show, I stepped out for some fresh sea air and wandered up to the top deck dubbed the Gargoyle’s Perch.

Although my blue evening gown and stilettos were appropriate for the evening on the cruise, they were less suitable for climbing the stairs up to this level.

But a few minutes here, bathing under moonlight, was all I needed before I headed back inside.

“Celeste,” a man said in a low tone.

I turned slowly, with wariness, knowing that voice.

My skin prickled with unease. When our eyes met, the reality of seeing him here—on a floating vessel where I’d come to escape—hit me hard.

But it was him. Standing ramrod straight, with his long, white-blond hair draping over his velvet-lined cape.

I blew out a frustrated breath. “What are you doing here, Lucien?”

“I came to be with you, my dear.” He motioned around with a wave. “Brilliant idea, Celeste. This is the perfect place for us to rekindle our romance.”

I bristled. “No,” I said sharply. “I booked this cruise to get away—not to ‘rekindle’ any sort of relationship.”

“Don’t be silly,” he dismissed. “We’re engaged. We’re supposed to get married. We will get married.”

“No.” I shook my head, firm. “I ended it after you dipped your wick in every candle, like sniffing out each scent in the shop. You know this. You need to accept it.”

“That’s ridiculous, Celeste. Dalliances are acceptable in our circle.”

Whether he meant the aristocratic families or vampires, I wasn’t sure.

Nor did I care. I’d had a loveless marriage before I’d been turned.

Our families had arranged it. I didn’t have much choice back then, but I did now.

I had money, power, and immortality, and I’d be damned if I’d let someone control me again.

“Not for me.” I gritted my teeth. “What do you want? Are you trying to get money from me? Want me to pay you off to leave me alone?”

“No, I made a mistake, Celeste. I just want you.”

I snorted. “Martine didn’t have enough for you?” I didn’t believe a word of what he said, not after he’d betrayed me with my best “friend.”

He looked hurt, but it was all an act. He never cared for me. My money, yes. My connections, yes. My name and title, yes. But me? No.

“We just need to talk.” He reached for my hand.

I pulled it away in disgust. If he really wanted me, he wouldn’t have spent all that time entertaining other women—with my money.

Across the deck, I spotted the jaguar shifter—the one who’d been singing earlier. He stood there like fate had just opened a door for me with a glorious beam of moonlight. A lifeline.

“It’s over, Lucien. You need to leave. I’m here with someone else.”

Lucien narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. “Who?”

He wasn’t going to let it go. This was my shot—I just hoped the young shifter was sharp enough to roll with it.

I raised my hand and waved, calling out, “Darling, I’m over here!”

The shifter had just turned away, but when I called out, he glanced over his shoulder—confused, understandably, especially with me waving like we planned to meet.

Lucien muttered something under his breath.

I turned on my heel, not easy to do in the strappy sandals I’d foolishly worn on a moving ship, and crossed the deck.

“You got my note in the suite,” I said, trying to half-ass a reason for us meeting up here while I strode over to the shifter.

He stared at me with wide eyes. Silent. Just like last night in the Celestial Lounge. If I hadn’t heard him sing earlier tonight, I wouldn’t have believed he could speak.

I rose up on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning in close. He smelled good—so good that I had to fight the urge to bury my face against his throat and inhale more deeply.

I whispered into his ear, “Just go with it. Please.”