Chapter 12

That night, she dreamt of the prince. She dreamt that he lend the back of her head in his palm, just as he had done with his new consort. That he bared her shoulder and arm for a clear canvas to feed from. She dreamed that he leaned in with his sharp teeth, but didn’t bite. She dreamed that, for once, the prince kissed her skin instead. That he kissed it again, and again. Beneath her jaw, above the hollow of her throat. Over her collarbone. At the top of her breast.

She woke with a burning in her core. The want in her had bared itself, shameless and desperate for him. She had never felt a thing like it before and didn’t know what to do with it.

Was it possibly to become addicted to a vampire’s bite? Maybe this was just how it felt to itch for a fix.