Page 108 of Bonds of Starfall

He huffed a dark laugh, pressing himself further into her, the hard lines of his body digging into her softness and making her dizzy. Dark spots danced in her periphery.

"Funny, I once called you a liar." Valkar lowered his head, lips parting to reveal more of those deadly fangs.

Rin acted before she could think it through, gripping the hairpin so harshly it cut into her palm as she jerked it upward in one quick, powerful movement, a low grunt of exertion pulled from her lips as it pierced his side, blood spilling over her hand.

Valkar’s eyes widened. "You actually fucking did it." Disbelief colored his tone.

She jerked the hairpin up higher, feeling it slice through his flesh, grotesque wet noises as it cut messily through his skin, more hot blood pooling between them, spilling over her fingers and wetting the sheets and her shirt.

He didn’t drop. He didn’t move. He did something far worse. He laughed, hands grabbing her shoulders and pulling her up in one fluid movement until she was bundled close to his chest. He held her fully off the bed, her legs dangling and her hand trapped between them, and the hairpin still stuck deep in his side.

The sharp prick of his fangs brushed over the side of her neck as his scent enveloped her, and she shuddered, eyes growing wide just as his had a second ago.

"No!Wait!" Rin tried to shove him away, but he was too strong, even with the blood loss, even with a fucking hairpin stabbed in his side.

She felt him smile against the side of her neck.

"Don’t you know? It’ll take more than that to kill a vampire." The tip of his fang pierced her earlobe, and blood trickled fromthe small cut. He moved down until his mouth was right by the vulnerable side of her neck. Her body froze, heart racing dangerously as her vision swam. "I’m going to enjoy every bit of my revenge. Starting with this."

His fangs pierced her neck, and she gasped as he drank her blood, holding her hostage. Her fingers grew limp on the hairpin as her lids fluttered.

And she knew no more.

Rhyden groanedaround his wife’s neck, tasting her blood for the first time. Long overdue—he should’ve had his first taste on their wedding night, if she hadn’t fucking tricked him.

He drank and drank, her blood like the purest of nectar, filling him and warming him, chasing away centuries-long cold rage.

He felt the exact moment his Soulbond grew limp in his hold. He forced his fangs to retract, blood dribbling from them as he pulled out of her, hands firm on her back as he lowered her to the bed, her eyes closed and features slack.

His side burned like a motherfucker, and he reached down to pull free whatever she had stabbed him with, finding a blood-soaked hairpin, the jewel dripping red. One of the few possessions he allowed himself from his time before prison—one of Vesperin’s.

Rhyden cursed and threw it to the side, where it fell on the floor with a clatter. As soon as it was free, his side began to stitch up, healing instantly, quicker than normal, thanks to the blood he had just drunk from his thieving wife.

He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, smearing red over his skin as he sat up, staring down at her where she lay, guileless and sweet. If only appearances weren’t so deceiving.

Rhyden hadn’t known she had it in her. He had been toying with her when he had goaded her to stab him, but imagine his surprise when she actually did. He didn’t know why she looked different, why she behaved differently from the girl he remembered—she was colder this time. More like him.

Maybe this life hadn’t been so kind to her. He knew the feeling. He was completely different compared to his time before Dark Star Hold. He had been hurt—stabbed by pricks who wanted to prove their might—only to become shredded husks when Rhyden pounced, draining them. He knew pain, and he knew patience. All because of her.

So why did a part of him feel remorse at taking her hostage?

He heard the footsteps before he heard the knock on the door.

"Come in," Rhyden called sharply.

The door opened as Miro came in. The vampire was without his mask, messy brown hair falling to his shoulders in waves as he ran his tongue over his fangs impishly. There was a bruise on his cheek. How the fuck did that happen?

"Boss," Miro started, "the incubus is being a little… um, difficult. He keeps demanding to see her."

They both looked to Vesperin, where she was out cold, blood on her neck, and his blood on her shirt. Her heart was beating fast, but Rhyden knew it’d settle once she slept off the blood loss and shock.

"Tell him to fucking wait. He’s a prisoner. He can’t make demands here." Rhyden rose from the bed, unable to look away from Vesperin, feeling another tug of concern in his chest at how pale she was.

"Got it, boss," Miro responded, leaning against the door. "There’s been another hit on those bastards from LunCo, by the way. Intel picked up that they’re sending a new batch of Aetherborns out by the morning."

Rhyden blew out a harsh breath. Fucking LunCo. It was only a front for a trafficking ring—something he wouldn’t tolerate in his city. Especially when they dealt in Aetherborns. Business had been bad lately, with the heat from Solar City. He huffed. Why did they think they could police what went on in his city? Rhyden made the law here. Everyone answered to him—it was a known fact.

"Make sure she gets some food—if she wakes up before I’m gone. It seems like they need another message not to fuck with Noctis," Rhyden ordered, walking into the hall and locking the door behind him—from the outside. And if he stole one more glance at Vesperin as she slept… well, that was a secret just for the vampire.