Hell’s Consort

He jerked his head around just in time and rolled to the side, sensing danger, and indeed, a dagger had whistled past his shoulder, only a hairsbreadth away from his ear.

Turning around, he chased her, reached out a powerful arm but caught only air. The High Priestess dived quickly headfirst into the pool.

The Vampire King leaped into the water.

His hands searched beneath the surface, closing on the priestess's flimsy dress and drawing her upward.

"Let go of me." The High Priestess raised arrogant eyes to meet the dark blue of his.

"Why?" The Vampire King asked. "So you can ambush me again?"

He shook his head. "No, thank you. Who knows what else can you do with a sharp object?"

"Who are you?"

The Vampire King raised an eyebrow.

A ghost of a smile hovered around his lips. "You don't know who I am?"

"Doesn't matter, stranger." The High Priestess raised her chin. "A threat is a threat."

Did he believe me as a threat?

When was she, my High Priestess?

The fires of his anger burned too deeply.

The Vampire King couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. "What did you say?"

"Not important." A smile twisted her lips. "You're going to be dead anyway."

The Vampire King stared, mesmerized by the glittering, emerald eyes-the furious eyes of a woman.

How come she didn't know?

Had she forgotten about what happened between them at the Blood Moon Banquet?

His gaze never leaving hers, he murmured, "High Priestess..."

"You know who I am?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"How could I not?"

Hecate's dagger glinted wet and lethal in the priestess's clenched fist.

He caught her wrist and gave it a vicious twist, sending the dagger flying out of her grasp.

Ragged nails raked his arm, igniting white-hot anger.

The Vampire King spoke softly even as his hands tightened their grip. "You are going to regret this."

The Vampire King clamped his lips together and shoved the priestess under the water.

He drew her out, sputtering and spitting, then shoved her again.

He wanted to drown her just for the disrespect, teaching her a lesson.

She screamed, her voice so shrill she could wake up the entire Vampyr Kingdom.

Again, he dragged her, thrashing and cursing, from the churning water.

It slowly penetrated the Vampire King's fury that the hands clinging to his neck did so in desperation, their deadly intent forgotten.

The girl's lifeless form was imprinted on his brain by a burning brand.

Bright-eyed priestess, broken and bleeding.

"That made me hungry." The Vampire King thought out loud. His hands shook uncontrollably when he rubbed his arms.

He cursed at himself for his fancies.

This wasn't him.

The blackness of rage bubbled through the Vampire King's veins by what the Blood Beast suggested in his mind, what he wanted to do to the priestess.

It was taking over.

Once again, he was turning into a sadistic psycho without him being fully aware.

His claws turning to daggers, he shoved the high priestess from him like a rag doll.

Too weak to stand, the High Priestess sank to her knees and disappeared under the water.

Abruptly he heaved a great breath, and then his massive body started to shake.

A high, piercing cry came out of his throat, cracking through the night.

There was another flash of brilliance.

The Blood Beast snatched the priestess up like a puppet from the water, the heat of his anger in the face of her weakness and helplessness spreading uninvited to his loins.

A rugged moan escaped his throat.

Fuck her.

He took a deep breath, smelling her.

Her scent was more like pure lilies in his nose, and he responded to it, warming, wanting.

He stalked around the forest, trying to work off the burn.

'Just do it.'

He dragged her out of the stream, and they staggered together across the clearing.

His skin tingled all over, itching so badly, and his spine was on fire, the burn spreading out to every muscle he had.

He shook uncontrollably on the dirt and grass, his skin clammy, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth moving slowly.

I don't.

He pinned the High Priestess beneath him with his knees spread on the sides of her small waist, his body radiating dominance and aggression.

He can't control himself. He and the Blood Beast were fighting for his consciousness.

I shouldn't.

He wanted her with a pounding need that threatened to consume him, and this time, the urge was stronger as if he'd never drunk blood in weeks or months.

He fought this feral hunger, but his claws were curling unto his palms, bleeding, fingers tingling, skin tightening.

He was completely strung out, the very bones in him vibrating.

She's mine.

The Blood Beast's gaze traced the insolent curve of a cheek.

His hand tightened on her wrist, digging unto her tender flesh.

The rain was falling, and the moon had begun its descent.

Shaking the rain from his hair, his hands moved to her waist and stayed there, resting lightly against her wet garments.

He could have counted every rib without opening his eyes.

Mine.

His grip changed subtly.

His palm felt the pounding pulse in her throat against his skin when he wrapped his fingers around them.

She shivered when his cold touch grazed the tiny hairs of her nape.

"You have not figured out who I am?" The Blood Beast asked, tilting his head to the side and focusing on her neck.

His voice was so low now that his words distorted.

Stony silence met his question.

She couldn't seem to breathe, although whether that was from fear or something altogether sexual, he wasn't sure.

"That's a shame." The Blood Beast's finger traced her sternum and smiled, his white fangs showing. "Would you like me to remind you?"