Wicked Deal (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 2)

She was pinned beneath me on the bed, writhing as her thighs gripped my hips. The heat and softness of her was such an incredible contrast to the cold austerity of my life.

I wanted to sink into her. To stay here forever.

I drew more deeply on her neck, grinding myself against her, wanting more of her soft whimpers in my ears.

When the cries became more frantic, a beast arose inside me. She began to struggle, trying to push me off her. For the briefest second, the monster inside me wanted to pin her harder, draw more firmly.

Sanity returned. Horrified, I heaved myself off of her.

No.

Disgust surged through me, sickening me, and I nearly vomited.

What had I done? What had I nearly done?

I leapt from the bed, putting distance between Carrow and me. Hazy memories flashed through my mind. I’d been partially conscious, but I remembered.

The beast within me had almost risen.

I turned away, unable to look at her with the memories still swirling in my head.

“Grey? Are you all right?”

“I’m—” I cleared my throat, wishing it were as easy to clear my head. “Fine.”

I stalked to the window, past the grand piano that I no longer played, and stared out at the mountains. The Carpathians—my home. Full of bears and wolves and other monsters like myself.

I was better suited to that place.

I heard Carrow climb out of bed, and I drew in a deep breath, forcing myself under control. I turned to her, my gaze going to the bite marks at her neck. The wound was already closing, but her blood gleamed dark red in the moonlight.

“Are you better?” she asked.

I forced my mind to the present, away from the fear of what I had almost done to her.

Drink her to the death.

“Yes. Thank you.” Gratitude welled within me, followed by awe. “You saved me.”

“Anyone would.”

“Hardly.” I shook my head. “And it doesn’t matter if they did. Not all blood can heal me like that.”

“Really?”

“Only yours.”

Shadows crossed her face, followed by fear. The memory of her struggling beneath me surged to the surface, and the queasiness returned. “Did I…force you?” I asked. The idea made me want to throw myself back into the sorcerers’ tower and let them barrage me with killing blows until I was no more.

“No.” She shook her head, eyes wide. “You didn’t. Not until—”

“You started struggling.” I leaned back against the window, nearly lightheaded.

“You stopped right away.”

“I took too much.”

“No…no, that’s not it.” She chewed on her lip. Her eyes were dark as they searched mine. “I didn’t struggle because of what you were doing. I had a vision.”