Twisted

CHAPTER ONE

ADEN STONE STARED DOWN at the girl sleeping on the rocky dais. Long hair the color of a wintry midnight, dark yet glimmering like the moonlight on snow, spilled over slender shoulders. Spiky black lashes cast shadows over high, model-sharp cheekbones. Lush pink lips glistened with a sheen of moisture.

He’d watched her lick those lips several times, and he knew. Even lost to slumber as she was, she scented something delicious and craved a taste.

Taste… Yes…

Her skin was snow-white yet constantly flushed a deep rose in all the right places. Not one flaw did she possess. Not a single line or wrinkle—even though she was over eighty years old.

Young, for her kind.

She wore a tattered black robe that draped from just under her arms to the tips of her toes. Or would have, if she hadn’t rucked the material up one of her legs. The slender limb was bent and angled outward. A feast for his gaze, perhaps even an I-want-you-to-drink-from-the-vein-in-my-thigh invitation.

He should resist.

He couldn’t resist.

She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Fragile-looking, dainty. Like a priceless piece of art in the one and only museum he’d ever toured. The curator had slapped his hand for trying to touch something he shouldn’t.

No need to guard this one, he thought with a small smile. She could protect herself, snapping a man’s neck with a single twist of her wrist.

She was a vampire. His vampire. His sickness and his cure.

Aden placed one of his knees on the makeshift bed. The T-shirt that stretched underneath the girl, cushioning her ever so slightly, snagged underneath his weight and pulled tight, rolling her in his direction. She didn’t moan or utter a breathy sigh as a human might have done. She was quiet, eerily so. Her expression remained the same: serene, innocent…trusting.

You shouldn’t do this.

He was going to do this.

He wore a pair of ripped, bloodstained jeans. The same jeans he’d worn the night of their first date. The night his entire world changed. She wore the robe and nothing else. Sometimes their clothing was the only thing that kept them from doing more than drinking from each other.

Drinking from each other. Or feeding. So mild a word for what happened. He would never purposely hurt her, but when the madness came upon him—hell, when the madness came upon her—affection was forgotten. They became animals.

You shouldn’t do this, what was left of his conscience repeated.

One more drink, and I’ll leave her alone.

That’s what you said last time. And the time before that. And the time before that.

Yeah, but I mean it this time. He hoped.

Once, he would have been talking to the three souls trapped inside his head. But they weren’t inside his head anymore, they were inside hers, and he’d reverted to talking to himself. At least until the monster awoke. An honest to God monster, prowling through his conscious, roaring, desperate for blood. The monster the sleeping girl had inadvertently given him, the monster responsible for his new favorite sport—jugular tapping. Then he didn’t talk to anyone at all.

Down…down Aden leaned until his chest flattened against the vampire’s. He placed his hands at her temples and balanced his weight. The tips of their noses were a mere whisper apart, yet he wanted to be closer to her. Always closer.

He applied more pressure to his left hand, the soft strands of her hair pulling as tight as the T-shirt had done, causing her head to loll in that direction and exposing the elegant length of her neck. At the base, her pulse thumped steadily.

Unlike the bloodsuckers of myth, she was not dead. She was a living, breathing being, born rather than created, and more alive than anyone he’d ever met. Unless he accidently killed her, of course.

I won’t.

You might. Don’t do this.

Just a sip…

His mouth watered. He inhaled…and felt as if he were breathing for the very first time. Everything was so new, wondrous…he held the breath…held…could almost taste the sweetness of her blood already…slowly released. No relief was forthcoming, just an increased awareness of that ever-present hunger. He ran his tongue over his teeth, his aching gums. He didn’t have fangs, but, oh, he wanted to bite her. Wanted to drink her down. Savor, drink again. Drink, drink, drink.

Even without fangs, he could bite her. And, if she were human, he could drain her dry. But because she was vampire, her skin was as hard and smooth as polished ivory. Reaching a vein with his teeth was impossible. He needed je la nune, the only substance capable of burning through that ivory. Problem was, they’d run out. Now, there was only one way to get what he wanted.

Victoria, he rasped.

She must not have recovered from their last interlude, because she gave no indication that she heard him. A flicker of guilt pierced his hunger. He should get up, move away from her. Let her rest, recover. She’d fed him so much blood over the past few days—weeks? years?—she couldn’t have much left.

Victoria. He couldn’t stop her name from rolling off his tongue. The hunger…truly, it never left him. Only grew, slithering around him, clamping down on his soul. Still. He’d take just a drop, the taste he’d promised himself, and then he would at last leave her alone. She could go back to sleep.

Until he needed more.

You won’t take any more, remember? This is the last time.

Wake up for me, sweetheart. He pressed their lips together, harder than he’d intended. A kiss for his Sleeping Beauty.

Like the girl in the fairy tale, Victoria blinked open her lids, the length of her lashes separating, connecting, separating for good. Then he was peering into eyes of the purest crystal. Deep, fathomless. Glazed with a hunger of their own.

Aden? She stretched like a kitten, her arms rising above her head, her back arching. A purr rumbled from her throat. Is it bad again?

The robe gaped over her chest, just a little, but enough, and he caught a glimpse of the tattoo etched above her heart. A faded black—soon to disappear altogether, just as her others had done—with multiple circles swirling into each other and connecting in the middle. Not just a pretty decoration, but a ward, a spell inked into her skin to protect her against death, and the only thing that had saved her life as she’d poured most of her blood down his throat that first time.

He wished he knew how long ago that was, but time had ceased to exist for him. There was only here and now and her. Always her. Always this, the hunger and the thirst blending into a feral, consuming urge.

Her knee came up to rest against his hip bone, and he settled more firmly against her. Such an intimate position. No time to enjoy. They had a minute, maybe two, before the voices would destroy her concentration and the roar of the beast would claim his.

A minute before they both became as dark as their natures demanded.

Please, was all he said. Black spiderwebs were forming in his line of vision, thickening, closing in, until her neck was all that he could see. The ache in his gums was unbearable, and he was afraid he was drooling.

Yes. She didn’t hesitate. She wound her arms around him, her nails sinking into his scalp, and drew him down for a kiss.

Their tongues met, thrust together, and for a moment, he lost himself in her sweetness. She was rich chocolate smoothly mixed with chili peppers, creamy yet spicy.

If only he were simply a boy and she were simply a girl, they would kiss, and he would try for more. She might deny him. She might beg him to continue. Either way, they would care only about each other. Now, as they were, nothing mattered more than the blood.

Ready? she breathed. She was his dealer, his supplier and his drug, all wrapped in the same irresistible package. He wanted to hate her for that. Part of him—the new, sinister part—did hate her. The rest of him loved her immeasurably.

Sadly, he feared the two parts would one day war.

Someone always died in a war.

Ready? she asked again.

Do it. A growl so hoarse he sounded more animal than human.

Was he human anymore? He’d been a magnet for the paranormal his entire life. Maybe he’d never been human. Not that he cared about the answer right now. Blood…

The ferocity of their kiss increased. Without pulling away, Victoria flicked her tongue across her fangs, cutting the tissue straight down the center. Nectar of the gods welled, the taste of chocolate and spice instantly replaced by champagne and honey, intoxicating him. His head swam with dizziness as his body temperature rose.

He sucked the blood quickly, before her wound had time to close, taking every drop he could, every swallow ringing a groan of rapture from him. His temperature rose another degree, another still, until fire poured through him, burning him up, scorching him to ash.

He recognized the sensation. Not too long ago, his mind had merged with that of a male vampire. A vampire roasting inside a death pyre. Aden had felt as if he were the one drenched in flames.

Soon after that, his mind had merged with a fairy’s. A fairy with a knife in his chest, the beat of his heart no longer saving him but destroying him, the blade sinking deeper and deeper.

Both instances had been a lesson in pain, but neither compared to Aden’s own stabbing, when his body had been the one violated. And if not for the girl beneath him, he would have died.

He and Victoria had thought to celebrate their victory against a coven of witches and a contingent of fairies…alone, together. From the shadows had jumped a demon in human skin, his knife embedded in Aden’s chest—yes, everyone always went for the heart—before he could blink.

Victoria should have let him go. His stabbing had been predicted by one of the souls. Aden had expected it. He might not have been prepared for it, but he had known he wasn’t meant to have a future beyond that point.

And really, he and Victoria would have been better off if she’d let him go. Fact: you didn’t mess with fate without paying a price. He should be dead, and Victoria should be free of his baggage. But panic had bloomed inside her. He knew, because he remembered the high-pitched tenor of her screams. Could still feel the way her hands had clutched at him, shaking him as life flowed out of him. Worse, he could still feel the white-hot tears slipping from her face onto his.

Now, she was paying for her actions. She might continue to pay until Aden accidentally killed her—or until she killed him. A life for a life. Wasn’t that how the universe worked?

This time, he expected to die from the inferno Victoria’s blood was creating inside him. Instead, he found himself…calming. Not just calming, but thriving, his limbs growing stronger, his bones vibrating with energy, his muscles flexing with purpose.

This had never happened during a feeding. Wasn’t supposed to happen now. They drank, they fought and they passed out. He didn’t recharge like a battery.

When the blood on her tongue dried up—far too soon—he was reminded of his need, need, need now, and he stopped worrying about the repercussions, stopped caring about his reactions.

Victoria, he croaked.

More? she asked, breath emerging shallowly. Her nails were leaving track marks down his nape and along his shoulders. The hunger must be coming upon her, too.

Even without her monster, the beating heart of her vampire nature and the driving force of Aden’s new menu selection, she craved blood. Maybe because it was all she’d ever known. Maybe because she was as addicted as he was.

More, he confirmed.

Once again she razed her tongue against her fangs. A new wound opened up. Blood welled, though not as much and not as quickly. Still he sucked and sucked and sucked.

Not enough, not enough, never enough.

Within seconds the blood stopped leaking. He didn’t want to hurt her, couldn’t let himself hurt her, but he found himself biting her tongue; unlike her skin, this flesh was soft and malleable. She moaned, but not in pain. He’d accidentally cut his tongue, too, and his blood was trickling into her mouth.

More, she said, a demand now.

His hands tangled in the silky length of her hair, fisted. He angled her head, allowing deeper access for them both. So good.

She’d once told him humans died when vampires attempted to turn them. She’d also mentioned that the vampires attempting the turning died as well. At the time, he hadn’t understood why.

Now, he understood—but the knowledge cost him.

When she’d taken what remained of his blood and poured her own straight into his mouth, they’d done more than swap DNA, more than trade his souls for her monster. They’d swapped and traded everything. Memories, likes, dislikes, abilities and desires, back and forth, back and forth, until he sometimes couldn’t tell what was his and what was hers.

Had he once been whipped with a cat-o’-nine-tails? Had he once drained a human to death? Had he once stumbled upon a sick shape-shifting bear clan and doctored them to health?

A muted rumble—a yawn?—in the back of his mind claimed his attention. The monster. Actually, demon was a better description for Chompers. Aden felt utterly possessed by him. A feeling he should have been used to. Only, Chompers was nothing like the souls—he wasn’t affable like Julian, perverted like Caleb, or caring like Elijah. Chompers thought only of blood and pain. The taking of blood—and the giving of pain.

When he took over, Aden became more predator than man. He hated himself as much as he hated Victoria. Which was surreal. Chompers adored Aden. He truly did. He enjoyed being inside Aden’s mind and didn’t fight to leave him as he’d always fought Victoria. But even still, Chompers had a violent temperament, and that violent temperament demanded its due.

Sometimes Aden and Victoria switched back, the souls returning to him, Chompers returning to her. They would quickly switch again, however. And again and again and again. And each time edged them closer and closer to insanity. Too many memories swirling together, too many conflicting needs. One day soon, they would tumble off that edge completely.

Aden, Victoria said, panting, his name broken. I must…have to…

He knew what came next.

She angled his head, just as he’d done to her, and a moment later, her mouth left his. He didn’t like that. Her fangs sank into his jugular. He didn’t like that, either, and hissed out a breath. Once upon a time, her bite had felt good. In her mindless state of hunger, she’d lost her finesse, and those fangs sliced into a tendon. He didn’t try to stop her, though. She needed to drink just as much as he did.

Footsteps echoed through their cave, resonating like a buzzer.

Aden didn’t panic. Victoria could teleport anywhere she’d been before, had even whisked them here the night of his stabbing. He didn’t know where here was, or when she’d visited, he knew only that hikers occasionally wandered inside. None had ever traveled this far and this deep, and he doubted that would change.

He and Victoria could have gone somewhere else, he supposed, somewhere even more remote. Might have been safer, being as far away from civilization as possible. There was a target on Aden’s back, after all, Victoria’s father having come back from the dead to reclaim his throne. Or rather, Vlad the Impaler was trying to reclaim the throne.

Aden might be human—emphasis on might—but he was now the vampire king. He’d killed for the right to rule. So, he would be reclaiming the throne. Just as soon as he could wean himself from Victoria’s blood.

His thoughts, he wondered, or the monster’s?

His, he decided next. Had to be his. He wanted to be king as intently as he wanted to feed.

You didn’t before. In fact, he’d been on the hunt for a replacement.

That was before. Besides, there at the end, I had started to make plans for my people. His people?

That was the adrenaline talking.

Yeah? And this is me talking—shut up.

The footsteps reverberated, closer…closer…

Victoria ripped her fangs from his neck and hissed at the only entrance to the cavern. Normally, if she were lucid, she would simply compel visitors away before they could step inside. Her voice was powerful, and no one human could resist doing what she commanded. Except Aden. He must have built up an immunity to that voice, because she could no longer work her magic on him. She’d tried, here in the cave, every time the madness had come upon her. Tilt your head, offer your neck… Yet he’d done only what he wanted.

If the human comes any closer, I will eat his liver and rip out his heart, she snarled.

A threat she wouldn’t see through, Aden didn’t think. These past few days—years?—she craved only Aden’s blood, as he craved only hers. He could always smell the hikers the moment they entered the winding maze of the caves, just as he knew Victoria could, but the thought of drinking from one of them, even to save his life, caused acid and bile to churn in his stomach. And yet, they were the reason he stayed in this location. If he or Victoria ever needed someone else’s blood, whether they wanted it or not, they could get it.

Footsteps, closer and closer still, hurried now, determined. Is someone back there? The man’s voice was slightly accented. Spanish, perhaps. I mean you no harm. I heard voices and thought you might need some help.

Victoria was off the dais, and a second later Aden was smashing face-first into the thin T-shirt she’d used as a cushion. A tall, lanky man with dark hair and skin, perhaps forty years old, stepped into their private sanctuary. Victoria latched onto the human’s shirt, moving so swiftly Aden saw only a blur. The guy’s backpack rattled against his canteen of water. With a flick of her wrist—see?—she flung him deeper inside.

He landed with a hard thud, skidding backward until he hit the wall. Instinctively he rolled and sat up. Confusion and fear battled for supremacy in his expression.

What— He held out his hands in a protective gesture.

Another blur of motion, and Victoria was crouched in front of him, gripping his chin. Aden’s blood dripped from the corners of her mouth. That jet-black hair was a wild tangle around her head, and her fangs extended past her upper lip, cutting into the bottom one. She was a hauntingly lovely sight, as nightmarish as she was angelic.

Little beads of sweat broke out over the man’s brow. His eyes widened, fear finally winning and glazing his irises. His chest rose and fell quickly, shallowly, his breath wheezing from his nostrils.

"I—I’m so sorry. Didn’t mean to…will leave…never tell…swear…just let me go…please, please."

Victoria continued to study him as if he were a rat in a wheel.

Tell him to go away, Aden said. Tell him to forget. She would despise herself if she hurt an innocent human. One day. Not today, probably not tomorrow, but one day, when their wits returned.

If they returned.

Silence. Her fingers tightened on the man. So much so, he grimaced in pain, bruises already branching along his jaw.

Aden opened his mouth to issue another command, but in the back of his mind, he heard another rumble. Stronger this time, more than a yawn. Every muscle in his body tensed.

Chompers had awakened.

A sense of urgency filled Aden. Victoria. Now! Or I swear I’ll never feed you again.

Another beat of silence, then, You will go away, she said, thrums of subdued power wafting from her voice. Why subdued? You saw no one, spoke to no one.

Unlike before, several seconds passed before the human responded to her command. In the end, his brown eyes dulled, and his pupils contracted. No trouble, he said in a monotone. Leave. No one.

Good, she said, anger pulsing from her now. Her arm fell to her side. Go. Before it’s too late.

He stood. Walked to the entrance. Exited without looking back. He would never know how close he’d come to dying.

The rumble in Aden’s head intensified yet again. Any moment now, and the rumble would become—

A roar.

So loud, consuming, rocking him to his soul. Aden covered his ears, hoping to block the sound, even though he knew how ineffective the action was. Louder and louder, the roar became a scream, high-pitched, slashing through his mind like a razor until his thoughts broke apart and two words hacked their way to center stage.

Feed.

Destroy.

No, no, no. I did feed, he said to Chompers. Let’s not—

FEED. DESTROY.

The spiderwebs returned to his vision, interspaced with red. Both zeroed in on Victoria. Still she crouched, her gaze leveled on him, wary. She knew what would happen next.

FEEDDESTROY.

Yes. Aden rolled from the rocky dais and settled his weight on unsteady legs. Victoria unfolded to her full height, reed slender and lovely. Wild. Her hands curled into fists. He’d just eaten, true, but he needed more. Had to have more.

Feed, he heard himself say, two voices layered together, one familiar, the other smoky and harsh. Fight this, he had to fight this. Couldn’t let Chompers tug his puppet strings.

A whimper escaped Victoria as she scratched at her ears. The souls must be waking up. He knew how loud their voices could be. As loud as Chompers’ roar.

Protect, she said, her eyes suddenly sparkling with brown, green and blue. Oh, yes. The souls were in there, chattering.

Protect her, as she’d said. He must protect her. But he ground out, Destroy. And even though he tried to root his feet into the floor, he found himself stalking toward her, his mouth watering.

D e s t r o y d e s t r o y d e s t r o y. DESTROYDESTROYDESTROY.

Chompers had always been insistent. But this…this was savagery at its most basic.

Somehow, some way, Aden’s time with Victoria was about to come to an end—the knowledge was suddenly as much a part of him as his healed heart—and he had a feeling only one of them would be walking away.

CHAPTER TWO

VICTORIA TEPES, DAUGHTER of Vlad the Impaler and one of the three princesses of Wallachia, braced herself for impact. Good thing. A split second later, Aden slammed into her, knocking her into the same cave wall against which she’d thrown the human. Goodbye, beloved oxygen.

There was no time to refill her lungs, either. One of Aden’s hands closed around her neck and squeezed. Not enough to damage her but enough to trap her. He was fighting the monster’s urges with every bit of his strength, she knew. Otherwise he would have already crushed her.

Soon, he would lose the battle.

Anger would have helped her push him away, but she couldn’t summon a single spark of it. She had done this to him, and the guilt ate at her, a malignant cancer without a cure. He’d told her not to try and save him. He’d told her bad things would happen if she did. But as she’d peered down at the boy she’d come to love, the one person who had ever accepted her for who and what she was without any strings or expectations, she hadn’t been able to let him go. She’d thought, He’s mine, I need him.

So, before death could claim him, she’d acted. She still didn’t regret what she’d done—how could she? He was here!—and that was why the guilt had chewed such a big hole in her. Her Aden had to abhor what he was becoming. Aggressive, domineering…a warrior without a soul.

Normally he was gentle with her, treating her like a precious treasure, a need to safeguard her somehow hardwired into his brain. Even though she could rip him apart in seconds. Or rather, could have ripped him apart. More than changing mentally, he was changing physically. Already he was taller, stronger, quicker—and he’d been tall, strong and quick to begin with.

His eyes, usually a collage of glittering colors as the souls he (once) possessed peered through them, were now the startling shade of a violet. Thirsty, he rasped, and she would have sworn she felt the singe of smoke wafting from him.

Isn’t this just a peach, a male voice piped up inside her head. We’re with the vamp again. And there was Julian, the corpse whisperer. He could raise the dead. So far, however, all he’d raised was her blood pressure.

Sweet! Hey Vicki. Another voice immediately joined the conversation. You should take a shower. You know, get that blood cleaned off you. And remember to scrub really hard. Everywhere. Cleanliness is next to godliness. This one belonged to Caleb, the body possessor and naked-curves aficionado.

Let me take over Aden’s body, she said. She’d seen him step into and disappear inside other people, snapping up the reins of command. Just boom, one second he was there, and the next he was a part of them, forcing them to do whatever he wanted.

He no longer needed Caleb’s help to perform the task. He could control the ability, turning it on and off at will. Not her, though. She’d tried multiple times and failed miserably. Maybe because the souls were not a natural extension of her being. Maybe because they were new to her, there was a certain way to deal with them, and she hadn’t yet found that way. Maybe because they constantly fought her. Whatever the reason, she needed their…gag…permission to use them.

A chorus of No, no, no, rang out. As always.

I’ll be careful with him, she added. I’ll force him to sit still until the madness passes. If she could. Sometimes the madness overtook her, and she forgot her purpose.

Nope, sorry. The guys and I—wait, the guys and me—wait, how do you say that properly?

Does it matter? she snapped.

Anyway, Caleb went on smoothly, we talked, and we’re not gonna help you use us. That might create a permanent connection, you know? Like a bond. You’re hot, and I’d love to bond with you, and in fact, I voted in your favor, but majority rules and we’re not staying any longer than necessary. Now about that shower…

Congratulations on your little talk. If he’s hurt, you have only yourselves to blame.

No, we’ll know who to blame. Because you’re right. This will not end well, Elijah, the death predictor, suddenly chimed in. He never had anything good to say. At least, not to her. Caleb snorted. Bite your tongue, E. Showers always end well if you know what you’re doing.

Aden shook her, his grip tightening in a demand for her attention. Thirsty, he repeated, clearly expecting her to do something about it.

I know. So. She was on her own. Foolish souls. Not only did they refuse to help her, they stole her concentration, preventing her from helping herself. But you can’t drink from me. I haven’t yet fully recovered from the last time. Especially considering last time had happened roughly five minutes ago. He shouldn’t have been this desperate.

Thirsty.

Listen to me, Aden. This isn’t you, but Chompers. Such a silly name for such a ferocious beast. Fight him. You have to keep fighting him.

You won’t get through to him, Elijah told her. The soul’s new nickname, she decided—The Good News Bear. I’ve seen this encounter play out. Aden’s lost in there.

Oh, just shut up! she snapped. I don’t need your commentary. And you know what else? You’ve been wrong before! Aden didn’t die after he was stabbed. Either time!

Yes, and look where that got you both.

Stating the obvious. Such a low blow. Shut. Up.

A flicker of sympathy in those petal-toned eyes before the cold, frothing hunger returned. Thirsty. Drink. Now. Aden flashed his teeth at her just before diving for her neck. On some level, he knew he couldn’t reach her vein, but at this stage, that never stopped him from trying.

Victoria gripped him by the hair and flung him. Gentle, gentle. He flew across the cave into the far wall, and she winced. Oops. Dust and debris exploded around him, drifting to her as he slid to the ground. She sucked in a much-needed breath, then had to cough to clear her throat of the rubble.

Hey! Be careful with our boy, Julian commanded. I plan to move back inside him, you know.

I’m trying to be careful, she wanted to scream. How had Aden dealt with these beings all his life? They chattered constantly, commenting on everything. Julian found fault with her every action, Caleb took nothing seriously and Elijah was the biggest downer of all time.

To be honest, she would have more fun overdosing on sedatives than speaking to him.

Where were human junkies when you needed to top yourself off?

Aden stood, his gaze locked on her.

How can I stop him without harming him? She’d wondered this a thousand times before, but the solution had never come to her. Surely there was a way to facilitate—

Hey, I kinda feel funny, Caleb announced, his voice booming as if there had never been anyone or anything more important than him and his feelings in the history of the world.

Will you give it a rest? You’ve got a funny feeling in your invisible pants and the only way to fix you is for Victoria to undress. We know! Julian snapped. Why don’t you do our boy Aden a solid and stop trying to play Naughty Shower Time with his girlfriend?

Victoria clawed at her ears, trying to reach the souls and finally kill them. They were so loud. So there, like shadows slinking through her skull, untouchable, darting just out of reach every time she closed in.

No, I’m not horny. A laborious pause. Well, I am, but that’s not what I’m talking about right now. I…I think I’m…dizzy.

Caleb was telling the truth. That dizziness was now spilling into her, and she wavered on her feet.

Hey, Julian said a second later. Me, too. What did you do to us, princess?

Of course he blamed her, even though it wasn’t her fault. The dizziness always hit them a few minutes before they returned to Aden, and they were always surprised.

Here comes Aden, Elijah warned her. I hope you’re prepared for the changes about to unfold. I know I’m not.

Hey, don’t help the enemy! Julian growled.

I’m not the— The scent of Aden’s blood hit her first, potent and tantalizing, making her mouth water, reminding her of her body’s needs. Then, suddenly, she was falling, hard hands pushing her down. Cold rock scraped against her back, and she gasped out the rest of her sentence —enemy.

Feed. Aden’s weight pinned her, his teeth chewing at her neck a moment later. She latched onto his hair again, but this time, when she tugged, he bit down harder—into her vein. Her skin actually split open.

Never before had something like this happened, and a scream of pain tore from her. A scream that died as quickly as it had begun. Her throat clogged as the dizziness returned, accompanied by a tidal wave of unexpected fatigue. Her muscles quivered, and she thought she heard Caleb moan.

Caleb. Reminded of his presence, she gasped out his name, willing to beg the soul to help her now. Let me possess—

His second moan cut her off. What’s happening to me?

Concentrate. Please. Let me—

Am I dying? I don’t want to die. I’m too young to die.

He and his babbling would be no help. Nor would the others. Julian and Elijah were moaning, too. But they weren’t leaving her, weren’t returning to Aden. And then their moans became shouts, fogging her mind, derailing her good sense.

Flashes in her mind, like a camera switching views. Her bodyguard, Riley—tall and dark-haired, smiling with wicked humor. Her sisters, Lauren and Stephanie, both blonde and beautiful, teasing her mercilessly. Her mother, Edina, with black-as-a-midnight-sky hair swinging as she twirled. Her long-lost brother, Sorin, a warrior she’d been commanded to forget, she’d tried to forget as he’d walked away and never looked back.

More flashes, the camera revealing only black and white now. Shannon, her roommate, kind, caring, concerned. No, not her roommate, but Aden’s. Ryder, the boy Shannon had wanted to date, even though he’d rejected him. Dan, beloved owner of the D and M ranch, her home for the last few months. No, not her home. Aden’s.

Her own thoughts and memories were blending with Aden’s, forming a hazy cloud around her. Then the flashes disappeared all together. She was weakening…fighting the need to sleep…

Come on, Tepes! You’re royalty. You can do this!

A pep talk courtesy of herself, one that worked. She could do this.

Determination driving her, she managed to tug on Aden’s hair, lifting his head. Unfortunately, she wasn’t strong enough to throw him. Not this time. And for a moment, their gazes clashed. His eyes were red now, glowing. Demonic. Blood dripped from his mouth—her blood—and splashed onto her chin. Blood she desperately needed to keep.

She should have been frightened. Because, as she looked up at the fiend she had created, she saw her death. A death that made sense. Elijah had claimed Aden was now lost to the beast, and Elijah was