Page 131 of Bonds of Starfall

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was her heavy breathing and hissed curses, the soft whoosh of the flames as they crackled.

Finally, Valkar took pity on her. "Are you going to stay still, wife?"

"Why should I?" Rin looked up. Her hair hung in her face from her struggles. "You lured me here. This is a fucking trap. Are you finally going to kill me now?" She corrected herself before he could. "No, sorry. Not kill me. But get your revenge."

Valkar’s tongue traced over the tip of his fangs. "I opened the door so you could be free. Don’t make me regret it." The flames left her, and breathless, she leapt from the chair and ran toward the door.

Orange crackled in her periphery, and the flames shot forth, burning in a wide arc right before the door.

Wildly, she took in the room. This was the only exit.

Turning, she met Valkar’s eyes. He still sat at the dining table, unperturbed at the violence in her expression.

"Why did you bring me here?"

He ignored her question. "I won’t bind you to the chair, but if you try to leave the room or hurt yourself," he warned, "I will. Don’t fucking test me."

The power in his gaze backed up his words, and he reached for a glass of red liquid, swirling it as he stared right at her, fit his lips on the glass, and tipped it back, throat working as he swallowed.

Her mouth went dry at the pale expanse of his throat. Unbidden, she reached for her own throat, fingers drifting over the bruising of the bite marks he’d left on her skin.

He set the glass down with a heavy thump, an inhuman hiss filling the room as he tracked the movement of her fingers against her neck.

She was locked in… with a predator who’d already tasted her blood. What would he do for another taste?

Slowly, she walked closer, hands settling on the back of the chair as she pulled it out and sat back down.

The hissing turned softer—pleased.

"See, you’re smart. A little childish, but you were like that before. All it would take is a pretty jewel or pretty gift, and you’d turn sweet and bubbly. A kiss, and you’d melt into my arms." Valkar’s tone softened with fondness. "Nothing else about you is the same, Vesperin Vox. Tell me"—he fit his chin atop his steepled fingers, elbows on the table—"you remember me. Say it to my face."

She copied his pose, chin on her hands, chest pressed into the edge of the table. "You want me to lie to you?"

"No," he seethed, eyes flashing. "I want you to tell me the truth. Tell me you remember. Tell me that this is all another trick… I’ll help you. I promised, after all. But I can’t fucking stand to sit here and look at you and see a ghost of the girl I once—" He cut off.

After all of this… he still didn’t believe her. "It doesn’t matter," she said softly. "If I lie or tell the truth, you still won’t believe me." She leaned closer over the table, crossing the invisible boundary of his space; he didn’t move back, even as her nose nearly brushed his clasped hands. "So hear this, Valkar, everything I’ve told you is true. I don’t remember anything. I don’t have Stella, and I want to get out of here.Everything," she asserted lowly.

He searched her eyes. Silence lingered. "Lie."

"What?"

He disentangled his fingers, and she stilled as he slowly reached for her, fingers brushing over a strand of her hair, where it fell over her shoulder. "That was a goddamn lie. You do have Stella. I saw it. Nessen saw it on the screen. It’s there. Aetherborn, just like your last life. You just don’t have access to it." He nodded, as if to himself, and pulled his hand away. "Rhyden," he said suddenly.

"What?" she repeated, sitting back against her chair and staring down at the plate before her—filled with noodles topped in white, cream sauce and flakes of parsley.

Vampires ate pasta? Who knew.

"Call me Rhyden—or this whole arrangement is off."

She bit down on her lower lip, so she wouldn’t do something stupid like threaten him—again. His eyes dropped to it.

He was attracted to her. Even if he hated her. Rin recognized the expression now, in this dimly lit room, with the windowless stone walls and flickering flames. It was the same look Cyrus wore when he had been atop her, moving inside her, or theother time, when his chest had warmed her back and his fingers had worked her into release. The same look Lucien had worn, glimpsed in hidden snapshots, always when he thought she wasn’t looking.

It scared her and thrilled her.

Rin crossed her arms. "Okay, Rhyden," she said huskily, feeling victorious when his jaw ticked. "Now, why am I here?"

Rhyden didn’t speak,nor did Vesperin. He’d made her eat before anything, and she had reluctantly taken a bite, which had turned into a barely concealed ravenous display.