The curse demanded daily sacrifice. What had begun as desperate necessity — a feeding here, a taste there — had transformed into something else entirely. Something dangerous and hungry.
Lian couldn’t remember when the boundaries had dissolved. Perhaps it was the third night, when Soren had arrived with her hair still damp from her own bath, smelling of jasmine and mortal warmth, and he’d fed from her wrist while she sat in his lap, her weight pressing against his aching c**k.
Perhaps it was the fourth, when he’d found her in the library, reading his oldest books, and had taken her against the shelves, her legs wrapped around his waist, his fangs in her throat as he ground against her through their clothes.
Now, on the seventh day, there were no boundaries left. Soren was his. In ways t
