‘You never looked for blood.’ He had to laugh at that, though there was little joy in it. ‘I did. I demanded it. Not this much, I never thought it could be this much, but that’s the trouble with blood. Wounds are so easy to open, so difficult to close. And I opened them eagerly. I needed a man to fight for me. I needed a man who’d stop at nothing. I needed a monster.’ ‘And you found one.’ ‘No,’ he whispered, shrugging off her hand. ‘I made one.’
