Page 101 of Tainted Souls
It’s about power and surrender, intimacy and distance, all wrapped in the primal act of feeding. Everything that Evan and Haden ever told me about bloodsucking is true. It’s deeply intoxicating, more so than the strongest bliskey Lou has ever made me.
It’s so overwhelmingly good that the world around me begins to blur, colors bleeding and twisting at the edges of my vision, all senses softening into a fiery haze that wraps around me likea warm, fuzzy blanket. My heart pounds with an intense, electric pulse, drowning out everything else.
I never want it to stop.
CHAPTER 21
IN A FLASH,I’m yanked backward with unsparing force, my connection to Oliver severed as strong hands grip my shoulders and slam me into hard stone. My head cracks, stars exploding behind my eyes as I snarl in protest, fangs still bared and dripping.
“Enough.” Revenant’s voice, guttural from deep within his chest, cuts through my bloodlust like a jolt of static ripping my nerves. He has me pinned to the wall, one hand pressing against my sternum, the other gripping my jaw, forcing me to meet his contemptuous gaze. “Look at yourself.”
Behind him, Oliver slumps against the settee, his face blanched, a thin rivulet of blood still trickling from the ragged wound at his neck. His eyes are glazed, his breathing shallow.
I’d been seconds away from draining him completely.
“I—” The words die in my throat as shame floods through me.
I hadn’t just been feeding from him. I’d been consuming him, lost in my own hunger.
“Pathetic,” Revenant scoffs, his voice pitched low enough that only I can hear. “Can’t even control your thirst for a simple feeding. What’s the verdict now, my lady? Oh, I know.” His thumb brushes my lower lip, wiping away a drop of Oliver’s blood. “You’re more animal than the rest of us.”
He releases me abruptly, turning to Oliver. “You’re dismissed. Have someone tend to that wound.”
Oliver nods, pressing a handkerchief to his neck as he stumbles from the alcove. I watch him go, guilt churning in my stomach.
“Come,” Revenant commands, striding across the ballroom, giving no thought to whether I follow.
But I do.
I trail after him, humiliation burning in my cheeks. Nearby Ravens pause in their feedings to watch us pass, their curiosity palpable despite their masks. We walk past Saul, whom I recognize by his stance alone, leaning against a column with characteristic nonchalance. Even from across the room, I feel the weight of his attention.
Revenant stops at another alcove where a woman waits, her caramel hair piled atop her head in an elaborate style, revealing the elegant line of her neck.
“Sophia,” he greets her, his voice taking on a warmth I didn't think he was capable of. “Would you do me the honor?”
She smiles, extending her hand to him. “Always, my lord.”
He sits beside her, his movements gentle and unhurried. Unlike my desperate lunge at Oliver, there’s a controlled grace to the way he takes her wrist, turning it tenderly to expose the delicate blue veins beneath. His thumb brushes her skin right where he intends to bite, as if coaxing it to yield before his teeth ever touch it.
I watch, transfixed, as Sophia’s free hand slides up Revenant’s arm, fingers tracing the contours of his muscles. Her touch isintimate and familiar, like she’s mapped this territory many times before. I feel like an intruder, but I’m unable to look away.
Revenant brings Sophia’s wrist to his mouth, pressing his lips to her pulse point in what almost resembles a kiss. His eyes never leave hers as his fangs pierce her skin with the finesse of a lover. Sophia’s breath catches, her head tilting back slightly. There’s no pain in her expression, only a dreamy pleasure that swells as he drinks. A breathy moan slips from her lips, sensual and unguarded, like the sound was drawn from somewhere deep inside her.
The entire process is measured, refined, and sophisticated in every way. He takes what he needs, nothing more, his throat working in slow, deliberate swallows, her gaze never leaving his. When he’s finished, he seals the wound with a swipe of his tongue, then presses a clean cloth to the punctures. As he withdraws his fangs, she sighs with something that sounds like disappointment.
“So soon?” she pouts, her voice a sultry caress, her eyes heavy-lidded and her cheeks flushed. Her fingers trail along his jawline, lingering in a way that makes my skin prickle with unexpected irritation.
She wants him—not just as a patron or protector, but as a man.
I wish I could give her a reality check right here and now, force her to see the horrors he’s wrought, and will yet bring. That this is all an illusion. A show. That she’s being naive, manipulated, toyed with.
But I know she wouldn’t hear me.
Revenant catches Sophia’s wandering hand, pressing a kiss to her palm in a gesture that seems both appreciative and gently dismissive.
Sophia leans forward, not getting the cue, or just ignoring it, boldly reducing the space between them. “You promised mea midnight walk in the gardens last time,” she purrs, her tone playful but pointed. “The moon is particularly beautiful tonight.”
“Patience, Sophia.”
