PROLOGUE

I think I was drunk. Drunk on power, drunk on her blood.

I believed she'd forgive me. She'd forgive me because she had to. We were bound, her and I.

What was spoken would be forever unbroken. Wasn't that what the old man had said? What was bound could not be unbound.

I hadn't done anything wrong, I told myself. I'd just taken things to their logical conclusion.

I wasn't going to take pleasure from this. I was hungry. I needed her.

All right, maybe there would be a little pleasure. But it would be for both of us. Not me alone.

I stepped towards her, looked into her eyes, and for a moment, I hesitated.

I could feel the emptiness gnawing at me. The bloodlust was always there, lurking beneath the surface. When it came to her, I'd somehow managed to keep it at bay.

She didn't look at me like a thrall would have. Like I was something to be feared–or worshiped. She never had.

No, what was in her eyes right now was something else entirely.

Pure hate.

She'd trusted me. Even if she wouldn't admit it.

Now I'd destroyed that.

She was looking back at me like she had that first day. As if I wasn't a man, but merely a monster.

Still, the pull was too strong. I couldn't let her simply walk away from it. From me.

The first taste of her blood hit me like a drug. Sweet and rich and powerful.

She was everything I'd been craving. More. I drank more deeply. Her blood was like nothing I'd ever tasted. She was perfect. Instead of being sated, my hunger roared to life with a vengeance.

I felt her body tense, felt the slight tremble as she tried to pull away, but I ignored it. In time she'd grow used to this. She had to. This was our way.

Then my fangs were ripped from her neck without warning.

The ground around us erupted.

Minutes later, as the dust settled and she turned towards me slowly, my bite marks still fresh upon her neck, I knew the truth.

She was in more danger now than ever before.

And she'd never forgive me for what I had done.