Page 45 of His Eternal Claim

If you’re going to kneel, Dolcezza… make sure someone is bleeding for it.

My fingers freeze. My breath catches. My heart stumbles. No.

No… Why can I hear him?

Why now?

Why here?

“Enough.”

My Mother’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I look up at her smiling face. God… I hate that smile. It’s the kind Mothers wear in old paintings. I don’t recognize her anymore.

“Come here, darling.”

My body moves before my mind agrees.

Because trauma teaches obedience faster than love ever could. I stand slowly as my legs shake and blood trickles down my shin. Nobody cares. Nobody even looks. Except Aris.

Her red lips curve as she rakes me over like she’s pricing cattle.

“Now,” my Mother says sweetly, lifting a crystal glass. “Mr. Davenport has graciously accepted your apology.”

Vane grins. Bile rises in my throat. He lifts his amber glass toward me. “Drink with me, sweetheart.”

My fingers curl. Every nerve in my body screams no.

Run.

Fight.

Bite.

Kill.

But eight pairs of eyes are watching. And I understand. This isn’t dinner or a punishment. This is a fucking experiment. And I’m the lab rat. I force my lips into something resembling a smile.

“Of course.”

I take the glass.

I almost drop it as I bring it to my lips. And drink. And all I taste is fire. Liquid fire sliding down my throat.

Burning.

Scorching.

The room erupts in low laughter as Vane’s arm snakes around my waist. My body goes rigid. I stop breathing, and my fingers go numb. The glass slips, and I barely catch it.

The candlelight stretches and melts as voices warp. My pulse pounds so hard I can hear it.

My vision hazes, and all I can see are spots of red. A pair of eyes.

And sound.

Running.

Screaming.