Page 69 of Bewitched By a Vampire

This time, Night responded. “I wasn’t involved. Neither was my brother.”

“Lies.” The guard hit him again, swinging the baton hard into his gut and making Night double over.

He spat blood onto the floor, hitting the male’s boots this time, earning himself a hard blow to the head. His vision tunnelled. Not good. Another blow like that and it would be lights out.

Night shook it off and glared at the guard, seething with a need to break his shackles and drink the bastard dry. “You want to blame one of us. Fine. Go ahead. It won’t change the fact we weren’t involved.”

He slid a dark look at the door beyond the guard, replaying that moment Lilian had stood there and he had realised something.

She was a witch.

Had she been targeting him from the moment Bastian had left her with him? He chuckled again, the sound maniacal even to his own ears. Maybe he had been her target all along. Accusing Bastian of butchering a coven was so laughable after all.

And the way Lilian had looked at him was seared on his mind.

She knew about his past.

Had she always known?

He wasn’t sure of the answer to that question, his mind too sluggish to piece things together from the way she had acted around him and the way she had looked at him in this cell.

He had wanted to lash out at her.

Gods, he had wanted to hurt her.

He saw a vision of his hand closed around her delicate throat, squeezing the life from her as she looked at him through wild eyes.

Shut it down in an instant when his heart ached, unable to bear it.

But still, he wanted to hurt her. He wanted to wound her as she had wounded him. Whatever soft, foolish feelings he’d had for her, they were dead now. She was dead to him. He wouldn’t give her anything. He wouldn’t give these witches anything.

They could all rot in Hell.

He glared at the guard, holding his gaze, the darkness he had been trying to hold back rushing to the fore as his strength waned. Pleasing images of tearing through this coven flooded his mind, the taste of blood on his tongue becoming that of a dozen witches. He would gorge himself on them, feeding his bloodlust until it transformed him as it had then. He would leave no one alive.

All of them would pay for daring to target his family.

Him.

He laughed again as he realised how much like Grave he was, the harsh sound bursting from his lips, and the guard moved back a step, looking uneasy now.

He had been wrong. He was like one of his brothers after all.

Night barked out another laugh, sanity slipping through his fingers as the darkness welled up inside him, severing the part of himself that had been coming to care for Lilian.

For a witch.

He had been an idiot for worrying about her. A fool for falling for her.

She had played him well.

All those smiles and secret looks, the softness of her touch and the feelings that had shone in her eyes had been lies. She had been manipulating him the entire time.

Her coven in Germany had been brutally attacked.

Had she lied about that too?

Was it possible this coven was the same family as the one he had attacked all those years ago and this was their revenge? They were punishing him for what he had done to them.