His fingers met my chin, forcing my gaze up. “Look at me,” he ordered.

  I finally brought my eyes to his, my expression sullen. “What?”

  “You need to feed from me, properly this time.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Listen, if you want to avoid losing control again, you’ll have to feed from someone. I’m in front of you and willing, and we’re stuck in this cell until the prison guards decide to let us back out, so why not use this time wisely.”

  The small taste I’d had did little to satiate my thirst. It only functioned to heighten my hunger. Vasilios was offering me relief, but it just felt like one more step toward losing my entire purpose. I’d entered the prison to make sure Vasilios and Sven never got the opportunity to escape, but with every day that passed, I grew closer to him. I felt like we were no longer on opposing sides but instead on the same team.

  Was that what prison did? Messed with your head and turned everything you thought you knew about yourself upside down?

  Before I’d even properly made up my mind, my fangs slid out, the sharp tips meeting my lower lip. A shiver passed through me as my eyes focused on Vasilios’ pulse pounding in his neck, his veins throbbing, just begging to be bitten.

  His eyes were full of heat. He wanted it more than he let on, and I was too starved to question his motive fully. Without thinking, I pressed my palms to his chest and pushed him down onto the bed. He swore under his breath, and seconds later, I was on top of him, my mouth on his neck as I bit down hard. I wasn’t gentle, not like I was with Peter.

  I was rough. Angry that I yearned for his blood as much as I did.

  With Vasilios, I let far more of the beast free. I drank deeply, his taste sweeping into me, a silky, magical texture that suffused me with energy and strength. I was aware of his palm flat against the back of my neck before it moved slowly down my spine, leaving a pleasurable sensation in its wake.

  “Keep going. Fuck,” he groaned, and I continued to drink, my hands clasping his shoulders, face buried in his neck. I was once again completely untethered from my usual self. None of my reservations about Vasilios existed at that moment as I fed and fed, my pores vibrating with need and satisfaction as I satiated my fierce, unquenchable hunger.

  His hand moved back up my spine and sank into my hair. He gave a pull, and I growled in response. “Good little dhampir,” he whispered huskily, and my inner beast preened at his praise. His other hand travelled from my hip up along my ribs before resting just below my breast. There was a wildness to me now, a wildness I’d never experienced with Peter. I felt like I could eat Vasilios alive, tear him to shreds, and consume every part of him until he and I were one, bonded together.

  Was that what insanity felt like?

  All I knew was I had a hard time stopping. I wanted to stay in that moment, throw away all my self-control and let the beast take over. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a soft hand met my jaw, gently extricating my mouth from his neck. I was still lost in blood madness, everything around me a haze of red. My heart was pounding in my chest.

  “Darya, relax,” he said in a soothing voice, both hands cupping my cheeks as his eyes flickered back and forth between mine.

  I focused on the bright blue of his eyes, trying to grab hold of myself as his blood filtered through my system, strengthening me in a new and wondrous way.

  “Your blood,” I said with a gasp. “It’s … it’s like nothing I’ve tasted.”

  “You don’t say,” he replied with a tender chuckle. “For a second there, I thought you were trying to murder me.”

  “Oh,” I breathed, my eyes widening. “That’s not … I mean, I had no idea I was taking so much.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll be ready for you next time.” He ran his thumb along the line of my jaw, and I startled at how good it felt, immediately moving away.

  “There won’t be a next time. There can’t be. You could get addicted. Do you want to become like all the other blood donors in this prison? You’ll become a shell of your former self. And besides, this was only ever going to be a one-time thing.”

  He let the smirk he was holding back earlier emerge fully. “If you say so. It might be a little hard for you to resist. I mean, you did suck the blood from my fingers. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

  I punched him in the shoulder. “I said we weren’t going to speak about that ever again.”

  “You said it, but I never agreed.” He rubbed his shoulder, pretending like I’d hurt him. I rolled my eyes. “Besides, it’s going to be hard to get the image out of my mind.”

  I made a fist, ready to punch him again, but he held his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. The image is gone. I’ve mentally erased it.”

  I unclenched my fist and dropped back onto the bed, my head still swirly from the blood haze. I wondered if Vasilios had enjoyed the high from my bite, but he didn’t show any visible signs that he was buzzed.

  He shifted his body as his eyes traversed my features. “Take a nap if you need to. I’ll keep watch.”

  His gaze caressed me, and I couldn’t tell if it was real or if the blood haze was making me imagine things, but I saw affection. It would’ve been jarring if I wasn’t so satiated and calm after feeding. “I don’t need a nap. Besides, it’s probably best if we both stay awake right now.”

  And those were my last words before I promptly fell asleep. When I woke up, Vasilios was sitting on the floor on the other side of the cell, knees bent, back against the wall. The prison was quiet. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, while Vasilios sat still, watching me.

  “How long was I out for?”

  “Two hours, maybe a little more.”

  “It’s quiet.”

  “The guards managed to subdue the riot about an hour ago. Everything’s been quiet since, but they haven’t unlocked the cells yet.”

  “Oh. Did anyone come by to do an inspection?”

  He shook his head, and we fell into silence. Now that I’d slept off the blood haze, self-consciousness was swiftly trickling in. I couldn’t believe I’d fed from him. What had I been thinking? Oh, yeah, I hadn’t been. I’d allowed the beast to take control, and now, I might be strong and fed, but I was also full of shame and regret. What would Peter say if he knew?

  Guilt and anxiety mingled within me, making my stomach hurt. Drinking blood was necessary for my survival, but I couldn’t deny that there was often a sexual element. There hadn’t been with Angela because we were both straight, but with Vasilios … I couldn’t tell if it was because of him or if it was just because he was a man, but there’d been a charge between us, and it hadn’t been a platonic charge.

  I stood from the bed. “You can sleep now if you want, and I’ll keep watch.”

  He shook his head. “I’m good where I am.”

  “Are you sure? It can’t be very comfortable on the floor.”

  He only shrugged and turned his attention toward the bars as he quietly scanned outside the cell. We sat silently for a few minutes before I spoke, “Tell me about Oreylia. What’s it like there?” I wasn’t sure what compelled me to ask. Call it mild curiosity. Or maybe it was the fact that I still couldn’t comprehend how my future self chose to travel there. Sure, I had my selfless moments, but I wasn’t certain I could ever be selfless enough to risk my life for a population of strangers.

  Vasilios arched an eyebrow and turned his head to me. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Well, if what I saw of my future is real, then I’m going to go there one day. It seems smart to be prepared.”

  “You should hope the future you saw is wrong. Oreylia is no place for you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re a dhampir. A demon would capture you right away and put you to work in the mines. It took almost a century for Sven and me to escape. Is that what you want? A hundred years of agony?”

  “No, but as I told you before, in the vision of my future, I saw us go there to help free the other miners. Don’t you think that’s a noble pursuit? All the people who are suffering just like you did could have a chance at a better life.”

  “And we would be risking ours just to give it to them.”

  “It might not make sense now, but Sarasin said something interesting to me before I left him.”

  Vasilios perked up at this. “Oh?”

  “He said the future often doesn’t make sense because we haven’t experienced the journey yet. So maybe it seems improbable right now that we would risk our lives for others and travel to Oreylia, but perhaps there comes a time when it’s something we feel we need to do.”

  What was I even saying? I had no intention of allowing the future Sarasin showed me to occur, so why was I even talking about it with Vasilios? Perhaps it was because the visions were so ingrained in my mind. I didn’t want to accept them, but I also couldn’t stop thinking about them.

  His eyes held mine, curiosity in them. “Maybe you’re right.” He paused and exhaled a soft breath. “All I know is that travelling back to Oreylia would be like willingly stepping into a living nightmare. I mean, I’m in prison in your world, Darya, and I’d rather spend another century in this place than spend a single day back where I came from.”

  I saw the pain, the years of suffering, in his face, and a sliver of guilt trickled in. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me about it if it’s too distressing.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment, his attention on the floor when he finally said, “The city where I was born is called Treyu. It sits at the foot of a group of mountains known as the Hamlivs. Sven and I had to climb through those mountains to escape. We hid there for months while I taught myself how to harness my powers and create a portal to the dimension where my father came from.”

  “How did you survive? Was it very cold?”

  He shook his head. “Mountains in Oreylia aren’t snow-capped like they are here. They’re more like volcanos, but they’re never dormant. They’re constantly erupting, and the lava flows into the city, creating a molten hot river.” What he said painted a vivid picture in my mind. When my mother was younger, and Granddad Martin had been sent to Oreylia, she hadn’t known the name of the place and had simply referred to it as a “hell dimension.” It made sense since a place constantly spewing lava seemed rather hellish when I tried to visualise it. It also matched the vision Sarasin showed me when my future self stood by that window, gazing out at the strange city.

  “Why would anyone build a city at the foot of active volcanoes?”

  “Because the demons in my realm are immune to fire and heat. In fact, they thrive in it. Most cities in Oreylia are built beside these types of mountains for this very reason. It’s why full-blooded demons rule in Oreylia. They don’t have to fear the eruptions like the rest of us.”

  “You’re half demon, though. Doesn’t that afford you some protection?”

  “Yes, but only a little. I can withstand the heat of fire and lava for a few minutes, but after that, I burn just like everyone else who isn’t a demon.”

  “Tell me about the mark you gave me. What exactly does it mean?”

  He stilled, a frown marring his features. “I’m not sure you’ll want to hear this.”

  “Of course, I want to hear it. You said that once the mark is given, it can’t be taken back. That means I’m going to have to live with it, and I’d rather know what it means if that’s the case.”

  He exhaled and lifted his gaze to mine. “My mother came from a family of high demons,” he began. “They more or less ruled over our city, Treyu. Her bloodline is considered royalty, and they have very specific rules for marriage and procreation.”

  “Right,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. Maybe he was right. Maybe I didn’t want to hear about it. “The demons in her family mate for life. They possess a mark, and once they find the person they want to marry, the mark is transferred to that person. It’s not a conscious thing. Sometimes people get marked who don’t necessarily return the feelings of the person giving it to them.” He paused, clearly referring to our situation as he eyed me awkwardly before looking away. “When my mother defied convention and ran off with my father, a sorcerer with no demon blood who didn’t even come from Oreylia but another dimension entirely, her family was furious. They demanded she end the relationship, but unbeknownst to them, she was already pregnant with me. So she ran away, and she and my father lived in one of the lower sectors of the city,” he said, sparking a memory from the vision of my future.

  “Have you ever been up there?” my future self asked as I peered at the castle.

  “No,” Vasilios replied solemnly. “Never. The vast majority aren’t allowed past the eighty-seventh sector.”

  “Darya, are you okay?” Vasilios asked.

  I shook myself from the memory. “Yes, I’m fine. Continue your story.”

  “Well, they lived happily for a few months, but then my father had to leave and return to his own dimension.”

  “Wait, Theodore left your mother to return to Tribane while she was still pregnant?” I asked incredulously. That was a fucked-up move if I’d ever heard one.

  His expression hardened. “He didn’t have a say in the matter. His followers summoned him. They cast a spell to bring him back through a portal to this dimension. My mother was convinced for years he would return, but he never did, and she knew something truly awful must have happened. She told me stories, all the stories that my father had told her about his life before he met her. It wasn’t until I got older that I properly understood the stories, but by then, she was gone, and I was trapped in the mine.”

  “She died?” I whispered, my chest tightening.

  “We were so poor, and I was only a child. She got sick, and there was no money for medicine. When I was ten, she passed away. I didn’t know it, but for those first ten years of my life, she’d pretended to our neighbours that I was a demon. I hadn’t come into my warlock powers yet, but the grief of her death stirred them up. I released a surge of magic that shattered all the windows in our neighbourhood, and that’s when people discovered I wasn’t a full demon.”

  “That sounds a lot like what happened earlier when the skylight shattered,” I said.

  He nodded. “Yes. I told you, it’s because of you. Your nearness is making my magic stronger.”

  I still didn’t know what to make of that, so I asked, “What happened to you when people discovered you were half warlock?”

  “They sent me to the mine, of course. I’d never been so terrified. That was where I met Sven. We were both young boys, and we bonded right away. As I laboured in the mine, I discovered more and more of my magical powers. After many years, I was powerful enough to cast a spell that would show me exactly what happened to my father and why he never returned to me. That’s when I saw everything that happened with your parents and how he died.”

  My chest tightened again. I had no sympathy for Theodore or how he met his end, but I did have sympathy for a younger Vasilios seeing the father he never got the chance to meet die, knowing at that moment that he never would meet him. Not in his lifetime. I understood why he would despise my parents, and Rita, his half-sister, even if they really didn’t deserve his hatred.

  “I might not agree with it, but I can understand why you’d want to hurt them,” I said in a low voice, and his eyes flicked to mine. “I mean, if I were in your shoes, I’d probably feel the same way.”

  Something in his gaze told me he appreciated my admission.

  Our gazes held for a prolonged moment before he cleared his throat, “So, uh, the mark. You wanted to know more about it.” He shook his head at himself. “I don’t know why I ended up giving you a full history of my tragic family situation.”

  “Don’t apologise. It was good to hear it,” I said, glancing down at the floor. “It’s actually helped me understand you better.”

  Again, our gazes locked. Something hummed between us, and a pleasant vibration danced across my chest. I rubbed my sternum and noticed Vasilios’s eyes glowing.

  “You feel it, too,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” I whispered back, the vibration increasing in intensity. “What is it?”

  “The mark. I think it likes it when we get along,” he explained, and I definitely didn’t know what to think about that.

  “Oh. Okay. That’s … interesting, I guess.”

  An awkwardness fell before Vasilios said, “It’s such an inefficient way of finding a partner. I mean, it doesn’t take into account that feelings can change. You give someone this mark that lasts for a lifetime, but what if you change your mind? Fall out of love?”

  “Yes, you’re right. After all, you don’t feel the same for me now as you did before. And yet, here we are, stuck with this inseverable link,” I said.

  “Exactly,” Vasilios agreed, but there was something odd in his eyes. Something he wasn’t saying.

  We were quiet for a while, both sitting with our thoughts.

  “Crap,” I muttered, frowning as I realised something rather depressing.

  “What?” Vasilios asked.

  “It’s nothing. I just realised it’s my birthday in two days. I’m going to be celebrating my nineteenth birthday in prison.” See? Depressing.

  “Ah, well, my condolences on that.”

  “It’s fine. It’s just one birthday. There’ll be others.”

  “Does that mean you plan to be out of this place come next year?” he asked curiously.

  My stomach did a somersault as I realised my error. If I were imprisoned for real, then there wouldn’t be any good birthdays coming up for me, at least not in the near future. “I just meant, you know, when I finally get out of here.”

  “I thought you might’ve reconsidered coming with Sven and me when we …” he trailed off just in case there were inmates in nearby cells listening. I felt like pointing out how he’d been talking pretty loudly about his escape plan when he was drunk on Sarasin’s wine yesterday.

  “No. I couldn’t live like that.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “On the run. It would be no life at all.”

  “But if your future involves travelling to Oreylia, then you wouldn’t be on the run. No one could come looking for you there,” he countered.