Page 19

He shakes his head, his eyes glazed with ale, either too stupid or too drunk to connect me to the wanted posters in Havenwold. Maybe he hasn't seen them yet. Maybe he doesn't know how to read. It's not uncommon for the peasants of Chymeria to be unfamiliar with books.

This is dangerous but not too dangerous. Not for me.

My kiss devours him, drawing out his essence with each heartbeat. His fear adds a sharp edge to the sweetness of his desire, like bitter herbs in honey wine. His erection juts against my belly, trapped between our bodies, and he starts rocking his hips while I feed from him.

He can't resist the kiss of a succubus, the overwhelming pleasure it brings.

His hands fumble at my skirts, pushing me back against the rough stone wall. Irritation prickles my skin.

"No, not like that." I catch his wrists, but he mistakes my iron grip for passion.

"Come on, beautiful." His drunken breath washes over my face as he presses closer. "We both want this."

But I don't want to grant such intimacy to a stranger. Not tonight.

"You don't understand what's happening here." My voice sharpens with anger, but he's too far gone to hear the warning.

He traps me with his weight, assuming his larger size gives him control over me. His fingers tangle in my hair as he tries to force a deeper kiss. How arrogant of him to believe he's the hunter here.

He knows I'm a succubus, and yet he still believes he's stronger than me.

"Let me feel you." His words slur together. "Let me make you scream."

I almost laugh at his pathetic bravado. If only he knew what truly lurked in these shadows. His crude pawing is nothing compared to the sophisticated torments I have already known.

"Such bravery." My voice drips with scorn as I trail my fingers down his chest. "But haven't you forgotten something?"

He frowns at me. "What's that?"

"I'm not your prey." I grip his chin, forcing him to meet my gaze. Let him see what I truly am—the glowing red eyes, the broken horn, the cruel smile full of sharp teeth. "You are mine."

Fear finally shatters his ale-soaked haze. "Please."

He might be begging for me to spare his life. But it's far too late for second thoughts. Far too late to run.

His terror tastes like frost on my tongue, crystallizing the sweetness of his lust into something sharper. His essence floods my veins like liquid fire. Such potent desire made even richer by his fear.

He struggles weakly against my grip, but I pin him down with inhuman strength. His protests die in his throat as I feed, replacing them with helpless moans of pleasure. Even as his mind screams danger, his body betrays him, responding to my touch. His hips jerk as he chases mindless pleasure.

He spills in his trousers, unable to resist.

It would be so easy to take everything. To drain him until nothing remains but a withered husk, another nameless victim found in an alley. The temptation, an urge down in the marrow of my bones, shudders through me. I could feast on more than just his lust—I could consume his very soul.

My brother refuses to kill with the devouring kiss. Unlike me.

But I'm trying not to be a monster tonight.

Instead, I summon my magic and find specific memories, unraveling the threads of tonight like picking apart a tangled skein of wool. The taste of ale on his tongue grows fainter. The tavern wench's rejection blurs at the edges. My silver skin and red eyes fade into shadow.

By morning, he will remember nothing but drinking too much, perhaps a hazy dream of pleasure in the dark. No face to describe to the guards, no horns or glowing eyes to match against wanted posters.

When I finally release him, he slumps against the wall. His eyes flutter closed as he slides down to the dirt. He will wake with a crushing hangover and confused fragments of memory, nothing more.

I step back into the shadows.

My power thrums beneath my skin, the stranger's essence still burning hot in my veins. I flex my fingers, watching silver sparks dance between them. Such delicious energy begs to be used.

Havenwold isn't big enough for the prey I seek.

The portal tears open with barely a thought, midnight blue shadows swirling into a doorway. Beyond it lies the cobblestone streets of Netherhaven, the biggest and most dangerous city in Chymeria.

I step through the portal, letting it close behind me with a whisper. The shadows welcome me, wrapping around my silver skin like a lover's embrace. Here, in the heart of Netherhaven, surrounded by the queen's guards and spies, I should feel afraid. Instead, I feel powerful.

Hungry.

The mediocre taste of the stranger's lust only whet my appetite for something more refined. Something darker.

Morel & Sons looms before me, a familiar apothecary, its windows dark except for a single candle flickering in the upstairs apartment. Her apartment. My skin tingles with awareness.

I press my back against the rough stones of the alley, watching that lonely light dance behind the curtains.

The rosemary scent of her magic drifts down, mingling with dried herbs from the shop below.

My fingers trace the broken horn on my head, remembering how she used to touch it in the Tower, how she made even my imprisonment bearable.

"Zin," I whisper, tasting her name on my tongue.

Is she thinking of me, too, up there in her sanctuary? Does she remember how I begged for her during those long nights?

Her silhouette blocks the candlelight behind the curtains. My breath catches as I watch her undress near the window, each movement precise and graceful. Even her shadow stokes the embers of my hunger.

My claws bite into the stone, nearly gouging it, as she strips off her robes and tosses them away. I imagine her dark eyes, the way they sparked with cruel amusement whenever I pleaded for more.

Tonight, I'm not her prisoner. Tonight, I'm powerful with stolen desire.

I could climb those stairs to her apartment. Knock on her door. Let her see what her torture has made of me. The thought sends shivers down my spine—fear or arousal, I can't tell anymore.

The night air smothers me with anticipation. I need her hands on me, need her magic burning through my veins. Need her to hurt me, heal me, break me apart, and put me back together.

But I stay in the shadows, watching her candle burn low.

Some hungers are too dangerous to satisfy.