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“What is lust?” Evangeline pretended not to hear me.
“I’ll tell you the same as my mother told me—Les Éternels stalk the streets by moonlight, preying on the weak and seducing the immoral.
“I have no talent for this, but—well, if you ever need an ear that doesn’t belong to your fiancé, I can still hear a little.”
If not for the withered crimson rose where he once stood, he might’ve never existed at all.
Idk im digging this vanishing man
“Go to Chasseur Tower and wait for me in your room. We need to have a discussion.” We need to have a discussion.
Ew, drop kick him!
“I am much more interested in who you are, pet.”
Between one blink and the next, Michal moves again, and suddenly, he isn’t in front of me at all, but directly behind, seizing my wrist and twisting, lifting the knife in my hand to my own throat. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he breathes.
Tehehe
“Why does she get to call you Célie?”
His own gaze drops languorously to the pulse in my throat. “Only one way to find out.” “You will never bite me.” “No?” “No.”
“You’re doing it again,” he says at last. I look away quickly. “Doing what?” “Romanticizing nightmares.”
“You must look like the innocent flower, Célie Tremblay, but be the serpent under it.”
“on very rare occasions with beautiful young women. Instead of snuffing out her life, he lets her go—he lets her live—except she’s never quite the same after Death visits her. She becomes his Bride.” His Bride. Touched by Death.
“For leaving me in a damp gown? Yes, Your Majesty, I am eternally grateful for a chest cold and cough.” He halts mid-step, casting me a curious, sidelong look. “Would you have preferred I undress you?” “Excuse me—?”
“Stop looking at me like that,” I snap. He feigns innocence, beginning to circle once more. “Like what?” “Like I’m a piece of meat.” “More like a fine wine.”
“Drink.” “I will not—” “My blood will heal you.” “I— What?”
Love it
“Will they just . . . remain on your face forever, then? You’ll look like you’ve been mauled by a bear for all eternity?”
“If I were a vampire, I’d compel everyone on the isle to ignore Michal. It would be marvelous.”
“Now”—he inclines his head toward something behind me—“stop bewitching my crew and get in the coffin.”
“I’ll be getting into this one, thank you.” “That’s my coffin.” “It was your coffin. Now it’s mine.”
“I think I’m going to kill you,” I say pleasantly. “I think I might enjoy it,”
“This isn’t real,” I tell him. “We’re just pretending.”
Reluctantly, I release his thumb. “Why?” “Because”—he presses it hard against my bottom lip—“I’ve been imagining how you taste since I met you.”
thought vampires didn’t like the taste of human blood.” “I think I’d like the taste of yours.”
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,
“And because of this rather unfortunate decision, I have also—somehow—been volunteered as bait.”
“Please stay,” he breathes.
