“You have a soft heart, Seraphina.” Luthor bent his head to nuzzle my hair. “But when it comes down to you and the king…” His body tensed up. “When you face him you cannot hesitate, you cannot afford second thoughts. You will strike and strike hard. Then hope he doesn’t get back up.”
Cyrus pressed into me from behind, massaging my neck, and a little of my tension eased away. “I’m tired of this talk of killing. Of Viktor. Of what I’m supposed to do. I can’t wait for this to be over.”
“Me either.” Cyrus nibbled his way up to my ear, his soft lips in sharp contrast to the nip of his fangs. “But I believe I owe you from this morning.”
His bite marks had healed, but I shivered in anticipation, remembering how he’d tasted. He was delicious. And I was starving.
“Last night.” I countered softly, leaning into him. “It wasn’t quite midnight, as I recall.”
“Details, details.” He laughed, turning me and capturing my lips.