Page 52 of Soulbound

"All that youthful promise," Lady Beaumont whispered, twirling a lock of her brown hair around her finger. "Haven't you more than fulfilled it?"

"What are you doing here?" Lady Beaumont had allied herself with Morgana in the past. The only reason for her to be here right now was for mischief's sake.

"Greeting my new Prime," she said, with a pout. "Who was far more welcoming than you."

"We're not friends."

"We were... once." She took a step toward him, her words dropping to a purr. "We could be friends again, Sebastian."

He caught her hand as she reached for him. "If you touch me, I'll make you regret it."

Lady Beaumont gasped, but he could see the words thrilled her, more than they should have. "You weren't nearly so forceful the last time we met."

"I was seventeen," he said bluntly. "What did you expect?"

Her free hand stroked his waistcoat, and he could feel that touch on his skin, see her laughing down at him from his memories, as she kissed her way down his chained body. "The boy has grown up," Lady Beaumont said in a smoky voice that made him want to vomit, even as her hands delved beneath his waistcoat. "What I wouldn't give to renew our acquaintance. You liked it the last time I—"

Sebastian shoved her away, the world around him vanishing. He could barely see for the sheer, blinding rage that obliterated his thoughts. All he could smell was her perfume—the sickening, overpowering scent of orange blossom, a scent that had stayed with him all these years. Lady Beaumont hadn't been the first to use him, but she'd been the first to wring any sort of reaction from his helpless body.

"Don't touch me," he warned again, and this time his breath misted in the air in front of him.

Tendrils of ice began to crawl up the windowpanes, almost as if Jack Frost painted delicate stars upon them. The air was so cold it bit the back of his throat, making his chest heave, and Lady Beaumont shook the ice from her skirts.

He'd done this.

Sebastian swallowed hard, trembling with power he couldn't even recall gathering. It took everything he had to disperse it, letting the trembling ground subside.

Lady Beaumont eyed him with hungry eyes. "You want to hurt me."

"I want you to leave."

"I'd let you, you know?" She pressed a hand to her throat. "Think of all the things I'd let you do to me—"

"I'm married."

"So I'd heard. Tremayne's brat. The blind girl. She wouldn't have to know."

Killing her wouldn't solve a damned thing. But he had to remind himself of that. How could he touch Cleo after having the feel of this woman on his skin? "You disgust me. You always have."

"That's not the entire truth, is it now?" Lady Beaumont's skirts whispered over the tiles, and he could feel those skirts slithering over his bare thighs again, her nails raking down his chest.

Sebastian turned his face away, breathing hard. "What do you want?" he repeated, a little more coldly. "I assume there's a reason for this?"

"I could be your friend, Sebastian. And from what I hear, you could use a friend right about now."

Her words caught his attention. He shot her a dark glance. He'd thought her an old friend of his mother's, and knew Lady Beaumont wasn't brave enough to play her games too far in the open. But what if she was still allied with his mother?

What if there was a reason she was here?

He moved swiftly, slamming her back against the walls of the house. Lady Beaumont gasped, then laughed her husky laugh, biting her lip as she looked up at him.

"No games," he told her. "Did my mother send you?"

"I haven't seen your mother in an age," she taunted, though her eyes glittered. "It would be rather foolish of me to make an appearance here if anyone were to know I had ties to Morgana, wouldn't it?" She tsked under her breath. "And your mother is known to stab her acquaintances in the back."

Sebastian's hand settled over her throat. She'd liked that once, and her eyes told him she liked it now.

"A little harder," she breathed.