Page 5

I ducked behind a marble column, my heart doing a weird flutter that had nothing to do with hunger. Who orders their hedge trimmed into a dragon, anyway? And why does the dragon look judgy?

But then he shifted, and the movement sent another wave of that intoxicating scent washing over me. My vision tunneled, zeroing in on his throat. I could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, could practically see the blood flowing through his veins like the world’s most tempting river.

Bad Luca. No eating the hot garden man.

But my body had other ideas, drawing me forward like a moth to an unfairly attractive flame. Each heartbeat echoed in my ears, drowning out rational thought. Each pulse of blood through his veins was a siren song I couldn’t resist.

It’s just a dream , I told myself as I crept closer. Dreams don’t count. You can’t actually hurt anyone in a dream…

The hunger took over completely. One moment I was behind the column, the next I was moving—no, floating—across the garden.

Wind whipped my hair back, morning air cool against my skin as the world blurred around me.

Everything faded except his throat, that steady pulse of blood that called to me like a siren song.

He never saw me coming. One second he was focused on his tablet, the next I crashed into him with enough force to send the device clattering across marble tiles.

A surprised grunt escaped him as I landed in his lap, straddling him, my small frame pressed against what felt like a wall of solid muscle.

But I couldn’t focus on that. Couldn’t focus on anything except the pulse point in his throat, the steady thrum of blood that made my fangs ache desperately.

My fangs sank into his neck before I could second-guess myself.

His whole body went rigid beneath me. A sharp inhale, hands freezing midair like he couldn’t quite process what was happening.

The first taste of his blood hit me like lightning.

Pleasure exploded through every nerve ending, turning my bones to honey.

This wasn’t just satisfying hunger—this was every dessert I’d ever craved, every comfort I’d ever sought, mixed with something decidedly more…

adult. Heat pooled in my stomach, making me press closer without meaning to.

His hands finally settled on me, one at my waist, one cradling the back of my head, and the gentle touch sent another wave of warmth through my body. Then the memories started rushing in like a tidal wave?—

Luca Valentine. Vampire prince. Whitlock Clan. Adopted brother to ? —

Brother who always tried to connect. Who left books outside his door. Who spoke softly through walls when he refused to come out. Who never stopped trying, even when he pushed everyone away.

I jerked back so fast I nearly fell off his lap, horror crashing through the pleasure haze as memories slotted into place. “Zane?”

Steel-gray eyes met mine, filled with such gentle affection it made my heart squeeze. A drop of blood trickled down his neck, and I had to forcibly drag my gaze away from it—though my new instincts screamed at me not to waste a single drop.

“Welcome back, little bat,” he said, lips quirking into a smile that did absolutely nothing to help the lingering warmth in my body.

His thumb absently stroked my waist where he still held me.

“Finally decided to join the land of the living? Or, well—” He gestured at the fang marks on his neck. “The technically undead?”

Oh God. I was still in his lap. I’d just bitten my adopted brother. And it had felt… No. Nope. Not going there.

I scrambled backward so fast I tripped over my own feet, face burning. “I… you… this isn’t…”

His laugh was rich and warm, sending another unwanted shiver down my spine. “Careful, Prince. You’re floating.”

I looked down. My feet were indeed several inches off the ground, my oversized lavender sleep shirt drifting in a nonexistent breeze.

This is fine , I told myself as I drifted there like a mortified balloon. Everything is fine.

“I should… I need to…” I gestured vaguely at the French doors, trying to ignore how I could still taste his blood on my tongue, how part of me wanted nothing more than to climb right back into his lap for seconds.

“Luca.” His voice was soft, careful, like he was trying not to spook a wild animal. “It’s okay.”

I was already floating backward, bumping into a rosebush and sending petals scattering everywhere. “Sorry! I’m sorry! I just… bathroom! Yes. Bathroom emergency. Very urgent. Bye!”

I fled through the French doors, leaving my dignity scattered among the rose petals.

It wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine. Because I, Luca Bennett, had apparently woken up as Luca Valentine, vampire prince.

And I’d just used my adopted brother as a juice box.

A very attractive juice box who still had my fang marks on his neck.

I zoomed through marble hallways like a panicked pinball, bouncing off walls and nearly taking out a priceless-looking vase. Left? Right? Why does this place have so many corridors?

Okay, Luca, think. You just drank blood. From a person. An extremely attractive person who is apparently your brother. Adopted brother , my brain helpfully supplied, like that made it better somehow.

I turned another corner, my sleep shirt floating around me like some kind of distressed ghost. I’m an only child.

The closest thing I have to a sibling is Mochi, and he only acknowledges my existence at dinnertime.

But now I have a brother? A gorgeous, steel-eyed brother who apparently lets his brother use him as a walking juice box?

The worst part? Part of me was stupidly happy about having family. About those memories of someone caring enough to leave books and speak through walls and never give up, even when Luca—when I—kept pushing away.

No. Nope. This is just a dream. A very detailed dream where I float and drink blood and have a brother who looks like he walked off the cover of a men’s magazine.

I rounded another corner at Mach speed and slammed straight into a wall.

Or what I thought was a wall until I bounced off and landed on my butt with a very undignified “oof.”

I blinked up at the ceiling, watching little cartoon wolves dance around my head like the world’s most specific concussion hallucination. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was a crystal chandelier.

When I wake up , I thought hazily, I’ll be back in my cramped apartment. Mochi will be yowling for breakfast. No penthouses, no vampire powers, no unfairly attractive adopted brothers…

Just plain old Luca Bennett, who definitely doesn’t drink blood or float or have family who actually wants him…

The chandelier blurred, crystals spinning like stars, and then everything went black.

At least , came one final delirious thought, I didn’t get any blood on the sleep shirt. That cotton definitely needs gentle washing…