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  He rolled his eyes. Caylie was also utterly vain – in a fucking cute way, but he did his very best to curb it from time to time, knowing if he didn’t no one else would.

  She pouted. “You don’t agree?”

  He said levelly instead, “It’s getting late. I better get home. Remember to wake up for school early tomorrow. You promised you won’t miss your class if I let you come with me tonight.”

  Caylie was the one rolling her eyes this time. “Oh, no, serious Luka is back!” Still pouting, she walked slowly towards him, and Luka knew the seductive sway of her hips was deliberate. For a moment, he savored the thought of what Caylie would be once she turned eighteen and reached the flush of womanhood for Caro females. Even at almost-sixteen, with her birthday just weeks away, Caylie was already exquisitely alluring, with her sultry curls, sparkling blue eyes, and then there was her model’s body – all silken limbs and slim curves.

  Two years from now, she would be magnificently irresistible.

  Before Luka knew it, Caylie stood just a kiss away from him, and the mischief in her eyes made his narrow.

  “No, Caylie, don’t---”

  But it was too late for Caylie was again tiptoeing, her lips touching his, her tongue playfully nipping in, waiting for him to take possession.

  For all the incredible strength, stamina, and mental acuity that Caros had, theirs was still a flawed race. They were slaves to pleasure, and every Caro had one great weakness to hide.

  Caylie’s weakness was beauty, and she constantly cooed to him that he was the most beautiful thing she ever wanted to possess, and she’d never let Luka go because of it.

  Although being called ‘pretty’ to his face made Luka grimace, he knew he would take whatever he could get if it meant Caylie would be with him forever.

  The one chink in his armor was simple, a flaw that no one would guess from someone like him, renowned more for his intellect than anything else. Luka had a weakness for the flesh, and Caylie was the only one who knew it, indulged it, and toyed with it.

  “Caylie…” Luka tried to keep all his senses intact even though the sinuous movements of Caylie’s body was already tempting him to forget everything and just give in to the demands of his own body.

  “Come on,” Caylie whispered, biting his lip as her hands pressed hard against his chest. “I know you want---” She gasped as Luka’s arms went around her, followed by her triumphant laugh, yet its sound only served to tempt him more.

  “Keep quiet,” Luka hissed even as his lips moved down her throat. “I don’t want to wake your parents up.” He managed to keep himself from groaning when Caylie just arched her neck, stretching in his arms like a sensual kitten begging to be played with.

  “I love your kisses,” she said huskily, and Luka knew she was deliberately disobeying him because she knew she could get away with it.

  Warning bells rang in his mind.

  Caylie liked to play, especially when it meant teasing him, but only up to a limit, never failing to pull away just when Luka’s obsession with her was making him forget that there were lines he could never cross.

  Luka pulled away, looking down at Caylie more closely. And after a while, it hit him.

  She was not just tipsy. She was completely, irretrievably, fucking drunk.

  Since normal liquor could never intoxicate a Caro, her blood cocktail had probably been laced with something else, maybe an outlawed ingredient like poisoned steel?

  “Luka.” She said it in such a throaty voice his body couldn’t help reacting, his brain in danger of shutting down at the sensual promise hidden in that voice.

  Shit. This was bad. Caylie drunk was something Luka didn’t ever want to encounter. It would likely make her wilder than ever. “Caylie---”

  A naughty smile on her lips, Caylie suddenly wriggled out of her dress until she was standing only in her black racy – wait, he meant lacy – underwear and heels. Her eyes narrowed like a school mistress and she crooked her finger at him, furious and flirtatious at the same time. “Come!”

  Luka was on her in a second.

  When she laughed out loud again, this time he didn’t mind, didn’t care – all he wanted was to take her, his beautiful, wild, sweet bauble. His lips took hers roughly, forgetting completely about being methodical and polite, the way everyone knew him to be.

  “Yes,” she breathed, and Luka’s blood burned as her lips parted under his.

  His tongue went in, seeking to plunder her mouth, and his body heated up as she moaned against his lips, the sweet sound making him harden even more.

  Something was not right…but right now, he didn’t care.

  Luka’s hands curved around her waist, but this time it was not enough. Slowly, he let his hands glide up until he could cup her completely. The weight of her made his fingers tighten around her flesh, and Luka was rewarded with another moan.

  God, he had dreamt of this for so long – to have Caylie willing in his arms, to be in love with him as he was with her---

  The thought arrested Luka.

  Who the fuck was he kidding?

  Caylie was not in love with him, never was, and maybe never will be.

  With a snarl, Luka sprang away from Caylie, turning his back on her as his fangs extended at the force of his hunger.

  Caylie only looked at him in blank confusion. “What’s wrong?”

  His blood reached boiling point, drugging his mind, and urging his body to forget about everything that was right. Take her. Own her. Bite her.

  When Luka faced her, his eyes had darkened past crimson, the uncontrollable desire raging inside his body taking him to the brink of forgetting all rational thought.

  Kill her so she won’t ever be anyone else’s.

  Luka took a step towards Caylie, the roaring of his blood impossible to ignore.

  She smiled at him, utterly unaware of what he was planning to do, of what he couldn’t help but do.

  And then…

  She burped.

  Her eyes widened. “Oh my---” She let out another giant-sized burp, the sound loud enough to reverberate around the foyer. It was so unlike Caylie, who was the epitome of elegance – and how could she not be when Luka himself had practically shaped her to be his ideal woman?

  When her third burp came out, Luka could no longer keep his lips from slightly twitching even though he still sported a raging hard on that only a knife to his cock could relieve and his mind was still a confusing mess of murderously violent urges.

  The continuous burping from an increasingly embarrassed Caylie slowly cleared the red haze in his mind. Just as slowly, Luka became aghast as he realized what his dangerously possessive instincts had been urging him to do.

  He stumbled back, his face expressionless even as shock coursed through him.

  Even drunk and plagued with burps, Caylie sensed his inner turmoil, her eyes seeking his. “Luka, what’s wrong?”

  He couldn’t speak. It was true. The words were all he could think about. The legends were real. Like most young Caros, Luka had thought the stories of the twins were made up, concocted by the elders to keep them from doing something as shamefully gauche as falling in love.

  But now he knew.

  It was true.

  He had almost killed Caylie.

  Caylie was blinking furiously at him, and Luka knew she was doing her best to stay awake even though the toxic substance in her system was already lulling her to sleep. “Luka, tell me---” BURP. Frustration made her blue eyes brighten. “I don’t know why I’m---” BURP. Caylie let out a wail. “I can smell my breath and it’s awful!”

  Even though he felt like there was a noose suddenly tightening around his neck, Luka couldn’t help but smile. Even this far, his heightened senses allowed the scent of Caylie’s breath to waft through the air and reach him. And it did smell awful.

  She covered her mouth. “You can smell it, don’t you?” She mumbled the words against her palm.

  A painful twinge pinched his heart even a
s his smile widened. Only Caylie could make him feel like this. “It doesn’t---”

  Caylie groaned. “That’s your polite tone. You can smell it and you’re even trying not to wrinkle your nose!” BURP. Groan. BURP. Groan. “What’s happening to me?” Caylie wailed.

  “You’re drunk on poisoned steel,” he murmured dryly.

  She gasped in outrage. “Someone---” BURP. “---drugged---” BURPBURP. “Me?”

  Luka did not know if he wanted to laugh or groan, maybe a little of both. Caylie burping was hilarious, but the smell was indeed goddamn awful and only his impeccable manners kept him from pinching his nose.

  “Didn’t I tell you not to accept drinks from strangers?” he asked unsympathetically. Poisoned steel had a mysterious effect on Caro blood, causing them to either lose consciousness…or – in Caylie’s case – suffer good old intoxication with a touch of digestive disorder.

  “This is so humiliating,” she muttered. She tried to glare at him, as if blaming Luka for what happened even while continuing to fight off her drowsiness.

  Luka didn’t bother saying anything as he bent down to pick her dress up from the floor, knowing Caylie wouldn’t ever remember a word next morning. She wouldn’t even remember how he had almost taken advantage of her, as well as almost murder her in the process.

  Luka straightened up. He gazed bleakly at Caylie, knowing it could be the last time he’d have the luxury of gazing at her almost-naked body.

  The immortal words of his kind blazed into his mind with painful clarity.

  Let the blood flow, the flesh burn, but never let the heart decide.

  He was only half-Caro and yet the torture of withholding himself was already beyond imaginable.

  Caylie caught him staring mid-yawn. “What?” Her voice had become slurry.

  “Come on,” he said gruffly, pulling her close so he could help her dress.

  “Luka?” Caylie mumbled insistently. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said shortly. “Arms up.”

  She scowled even as she obeyed, always letting him help her, just as a bauble expected to be cherished by its owner or a beloved pet who had charmed its master to being its slave. That had always been their roles to each other, ever since he had started playing babysitter to her at age four. Most of the time, Luka had been content with the status quo. Even after the first explosive kiss they had shared, Luka had thought he would be strong enough to be with her, to wait for Caylie until she grew up and realized she was in love with him, too.

  But now he knew he was wrong.

  IT was true.

  This murderous feeling would only grow worse for as long as his love remained unrequited.

  “I’m sleepy.” Again, she said it accusingly as if it was Luka’s fault.

  Luka didn’t bother answering as he finished pulling her dress back down to its not-that-respectable length. This wasn’t a dress, really. It was just a fucking piece of cloth masquerading as one, and with not enough fabric to cover her ass.

  “Luka?”

  “I’ll tuck you to bed.” It took teeth-grinding effort to keep his voice soft, more so when Caylie looked up trustingly at him. Luka suddenly wanted to rage. He wanted to smash the wall with his bare hands, snap necks, and bury his fangs into any breathing thing that he had the right to kill.

  Take her, own her, kill her.

  Pain clawed at his heart at her drowsy smile, especially when she asked him so sweetly, “Up?”

  He couldn’t speak at the pain, so he simply swept her up in his arms. She giggled, and Luka treasured the sound. He climbed the stairs, sure of his way to her fourth-floor bedroom as if this was his own home. For most intents and purposes, it had been.

  He tucked her in. She turned to her side, facing him with a sigh. “Night, Luka.”

  She was sleeping not a second after, leaving Luka with a feeling of gaping emptiness that for all his supposed cleverness he couldn’t figure out how to get rid of.

  Fury at the unfairness of life tore at Luka, and his fangs sliced out, eyes turning nearly midnight black. In his mind he said a word he thought he would never have to say to Caylie.

  Goodbye.

  Chapter One

  Luka & Caylie

  6 Months Ago

  Her eighteenth birthday was going to suck. She meant it in a literal sense, knowing she was only a few seconds away of having her throat sucked by a horribly aroused Caro male.

  She leaned back against the club’s cold granite wall, indifferent to the hot, jerky breaths against her throat. Her sensitive ears picked up the second the sound of fangs flashed out, her skin prickling as the guy’s body over hers trembled in ill-suppressed excitement.

  He was incredibly aroused and getting more so with each second that she let pass without moving away. Any moment now, he would be able to taste her in the most primal sense for all Caros, something similar to having public sex.

  The other guests in the bar weren’t bothering to hide the fascination in their gazes. Caylie could feel their eyes feasting on her and this – this nameless guy – over her body. She knew what they were thinking. The Caylie Sonora everyone knew, once as untouchable as the sun, was no more. This Caylie was different and darker, the embodiment of all their forbidden desires.

  Almost every guy in the club were panting, their fangs threatening to burst out the longer Caylie did nothing to prevent a nobody from mauling her in full view of everyone.

  Luka Georgiades.

  Her eyes shot wide open at the sound of that terribly beautiful name, her attention immediately drawn to the 3D TV screen mounted in one corner of the bar. As this was a Caro establishment, there was no need to pretend they were humans. They served drinks with blood, played music so loud human ears would have long started to bleed, and the TV tuned in to a Caro-owned network that required special wiring and coding to access.

  “Officially endorsed by the Lyccan Council…strong contender for the Advisor position...maybe no longer an eligible bachelor by the end of the year?”

  Something inside Caylie snapped as she heard the last juicy bit of rumor the reporter was delivering with relish.

  The scene with the reporter faded, but he continued with a voiceover as the screen revealed a politely smiling Luka stepping out of his limousine. Young, dashing, powerful, and with a fucking overly made-up bitch at his side.

  Caylie hissed in contempt. A nouveau riche upstart. Was that what he was into these days? Maybe this cheap bitch was so kinky that she made Caylie look boring?

  Her heart shuddered with rage as the woman at his side tiptoed to blow into his ear, like it needed a tornado to get clean. Really? That was what he wanted? A cougar who liked to play porn-style janitor in public?

  She waited for Luka to move away at the disgusting display of intimacy, but he did not. If anything, his smile actually widened.

  Caylie’s blood went cold – an indication of fear for humans but for Caros it was a warning – a sign of the most devastating fury.

  Why?

  Even after so many months of crying, of going through a thousand what-if situations in her mind, Caylie still could not understand why he had left her, why Luka had to throw her away in such a publicly humiliating manner when normally even the thought of sneezing in public would have been loathsome for him.

  And he had done it at her come-out ball no less, as if Luka wanted to give her every reason to hate him.

  She pushed the guy away, no longer uncaring, no longer dead to the world.

  Her eyes, glowing midnight black, flicked back to the screen, where Luka had started answering questions, his arm wrapped casually around the woman’s waist.

  Her fingers curled, sharp nails almost slicing into the flesh of her palms.

  Luka Georgiades was going to pay.

  She would damn make sure of it.

  ~~~

  Violet eyes turned to midnight black as he pictured his fingers encircling her slender neck before squeezing, punishing her for daring to let ano
ther man soil her skin with his touch. When he saw the guy’s mouth open, fangs glistening with saliva as they start to stretch out, his own fangs extended as a snarl rapidly made its way out of his throat.

  “LUKA.”

  Claws bit into his shoulders, the pain snatching him back from his murderous hallucinations just before he snapped and killed someone for good. He crashed back to reality with a gasp, the blackness in his eyes taking more than a moment to recede.

  “Breathe,” Domenico Moretti urged him quietly. The werewolf prince’s gaze was concerned when he met Luka’s turbulent violet eyes.

  “I told you,” Luka said in an uncharacteristically revealing tone as bitterness twisted his perfectly shaped lips into a grim smile. “I can’t handle being this close to her anymore.”

  Domenico shook his head sharply. “That’s not true. You can and you will. I won’t lose one of my best allies to vampires just because you’re too fucking---”

  “NO.” Luka’s head snapped back to the club, his eyes unerringly finding Caylie amidst the glittering backdrop. He had heard his name on the TV screen, knew what the report would be---

  The sight of Caylie pushing off the guy panting above her should have relieved Luka, but it didn't. He could sense her hurt, welling inside her like it came from a bottomless pit. So much pain – was he the one who caused her all that?

  That kind of pain didn’t kill, he reminded himself. But if he came back into her life, if he gave in to the temptation of claiming her, the kind of pain it could cause would be irrevocable. If he came back to her, sooner or later Caylie would die – in his own hands and there was no going back after that.

 

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