Page 133 of Bonds of Starfall

The doors closed behind Rin. "Rhyden," she forced herself to say, remembering to call him by his name. The few times she’d slipped up, his eyes had grown dark with fury, and he’d ordered her away.

For some reason, she didn’t want to be sent away. Maybe that meant it was all true—and he was her Soulbond and their Souls were inexplicably tied.

Or maybe she was lonely and her heart was still shattering from the force of her grief, and every time she was alone with her thoughts too long, she remembered the shape of Kit’s smile and the excited tenor of his voice when he explained what it was like to fly in the Stars.

"Sit down," the vampire said.

Rin did, finding her normal chair, right across from him. As she sat, her bare toes brushed the tip of his boots, and she gasped, jerking away.

The vampire huffed a dark laugh, but thankfully, didn’t comment.

She picked up her spoon and ate without him telling her to, the dull side of the spoon barely cutting into the tough steak. The middle was pink. She wrinkled her nose.

"What’s the matter, wife? You don’t like rare meat?"

She glanced up at Valkar. An identical cut of meat was before him, a glass of blood by his elbow. The extravagance didn’t quite match his leather jacket and rough demeanor.

Wax dripped down the sides of the candles in the brass candelabra on the tabletop.

"It’s fine," she lied, finally cutting off a small piece and lifting it to her lips.

Valkar cut into his own meat easily with his knife and fork. Red blood spilled from within, dripping over the prongs as he lifted it and placed it in his mouth, all while staring at her.

She gulped, shaking off her daze, lips wrapping around the bite on her spoon. Not… bad. A little too wet and chewy for her, though.

When Valkar was done chewing, he reached for his glass and swirled it, taking a long sip of the blood.

"I do," he said, like the tension between them wasn’t so heavy that she had nearly forgotten his question. "I like itdripping."

She inhaled sharply.

The rest of their meal was quiet.

When she pushed her half-emptied plate away, she leaned across the table, staring right into Valkar’s eyes. "You said the drop was happening in Solar City. Where?"

"You don’t waste time, do you?"

"I’ve wasted plenty here. I’ve come to your dinners, I’ve let myself be tested on. Yet, your end of the deal hasn’t been held,Valkar." His eyes darkened, but this time, she didn’t correct herself. "It makes me wonder if you’ve been lying to me, like you accused me of doing."

His beringed fingers reached for the glass of blood, and he downed the rest in one greedy gulp, slamming it down on the table. Tiny beads of lingering red dripped down the sides to pool at the curved bottom of the glass. "I haven’t lied to you. Not fucking once since I found you at that goddamned cesspool of a motel." He leaned over the table. They were nearly nose to nose.

The air crackled with energy, and she held her breath, as if awaiting his Stella to spark to life and burn her to ashes, but it never did.

"You may not fucking think so, but I’m trying to help you," the vampire stressed. "Nessen knows what he’s doing. He’s studied Aetherborns for decades. You say you have no Stella? That’s a fucking lie you’ve been fed."

"By who?" Rin shot back, but?—

"I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the Nova inside you, but Vesperin, this is not a coincidence. Don’t you think it’s weird? Every fucking thing?"

It was. She knew that. It was strange about the Nova, strange that she was a coveted Aetherborn, yet had never been able to use her Stella… She didn’t want to focus on that, afraid of what she would find if she looked too closely.

"Maybe it’s weird, but I’ll never know if you keep me trapped here." She licked her lips, and his eyes followed the flash of her tongue.

The fire dancing along the candle wicks grew larger.

Valkar’s white hair was messy, but a little too perfect at the same time. She wanted to fucking ruin it. Even if someone tortured the information out of her, she’d never share who moved first.

All Rin knew was that he stared at her lips, and she parted them, and then his hand was on her cheek, the rings cutting into the side of her face. His lips were on her lips, and his tongue traced the shape of her mouth, and she smelled peppermint and the tang of spices from the bloodied steak. And maybe the tang of iron from the glass of blood, but she didn’t really want to think about that because Rhyden Valkar waskissingher.