Toucher (verb) to touch; to feel; to affect

My breath came in short sips that did nothing to fulfill my need for oxygen. Sweat prickled down my back, and every inch of my skin tingled as the vampire held me against his muscular form.

What was happening to me?

I hated this man. Was terrified of his bite. But by Diana, something inside me wanted him this close. If only just to feel him against me.

Bastien's nearness caused a tingling nervous heat to settle low in my stomach that refused to leave.

I was disgusted with myself for allowing him to have this effect on me, and I gritted my teeth together. Focusing on my mission and my hatred of him and his kind.

He wasn't holding me out of desire. He was holding me because he was going to drink my...

Blood.

The thought made me feel sick, and I held my breath like I was about to jump into the frigid, white capped rapids of the Starfall River and closed my eyes tight.

Then the strangest thing happened. As if I jumped in the river, and water had filled my ears, the wailing of the violins disappeared, along with the low conversation of the crowd.

Suddenly, I felt like I was floating. Like I was drifting in a current, and the only person I wanted to listen to was him.

I swallowed a curse. The wretched vampire was in my head again.

Without moving my lips, I asked him, "What are you doing?"

Silence.

"Well?" I prompted him.

"Your fear is inhibiting my ability to transform." His voice was gravelly and rough. Each word sounding like it cost him something. "I need you to relax, or this won't work."

How was I supposed to relax while in such a compromising position, on stage, in front of hundreds of people?

"I can't relax. It's not possible," I said.

He growled in frustration, and the sound vibrated against my ear, sending unexpected little bolts of pleasure down my spine.

"You have to make everything difficult. Don't you?" Bastien gritted out.

"I'm not trying to make things difficult, my lord," I said through the unspoken connection between us, "but this whole thing is unnatural. The people. Your brothers. I've never been around so many strangers in my life."

Why had I given him that truth? I needed to be more careful with my words. Much more careful. 

The less he knew about me, the better.

There was a pause, then he said, "Let's try something else."

"Fine."

I had no idea what I just agreed to. What else could he do to get me to relax?

Bastien drew in a deep breath through his nose, then expelled it from between his lips in a slow stream against my neck, causing a wave of tingling pleasure to roll down my spine.

I had to hold back a gasp.

Slowly, he moved his lips to my ear lobe, then breathed again. The smooth line of his lips grazing the shell of my ear.

I shivered in his arms. Never before had I felt such things.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I asked.

He hummed against my skin. "Trying to appeal to another one of your instincts."

Another instinct? Did he mean...?

Oh. Oh.

Before this moment, I'd never so much as danced with a man, let alone had his lips pressed against my neck. I'd had crushes, but that's all they ever were. No boy in our coven wanted anything to do with a magickless witch like me.

I was no good in a marriage alliance with a neighboring coven, despite my mother's status. Mama was too embarrassed by me to let me leave the protection of our home and told me she would never force me on a man of worth.

I'd accepted my fate a long time ago. I was destined to be alone. A spinster. Untouched and undesired by anyone.

But his mere breath had awakened something deep inside me I hadn't known was there. A desire to be desired.

He breathed again, but this time, he added a satisfied little sound at the end.

My breath stumbled.

His throaty chuckle rumbled through me.

"That's better. Much better. Your fear is dissipating. Now, if it's okay, I want to try one more thing." His words were slow and soft, and I swallowed hard as another hot pulse of desire rolled through me.

I hated myself for letting him make me feel this way, but we had to seal our pact with a first bite, as much as the act revolted me.

Everyone was watching. Waiting. Wondering what was going on.

If this was the way to do it, I had to be content with it.

"Okay. Fine," I said begrudgingly. "Do what you think will help."

His lips ghosted down my neck like a lover's might, and I pretended he was someone else. Someone with a heartbeat. Someone warm and sweet.

When his cold tongue licked a slow trail up my throat, from collarbone to the choker, my body turned to dough in his hands.

I'd never felt anything so...satisfying.

"Good, very good," he purred, a second before his lips closed around my skin, and I felt the pressure of teeth.

My hand flew to the back of his neck, fisting sections of his hair as the bite deepened. His grip around my waist was like steel when I arched my back into him. Yes, there was pain, but there was also...pleasure.

But even the tug of desire couldn't stop me from imagining what he was doing–swallowing my blood. 

The stage spun. A cold sweat broke across my brow, and my grip on his hair loosened. I'd already lost so much blood tonight.

I struggled against the lightheadedness. Wanting to be stronger. I looked toward the crowd as best I could with his teeth on me, searching for my sister. Needing to see Seraphina's face. She could tell Mama I'd done what I'd set out to do. 

They couldn't say I was good for nothing. Not anymore.

But I wasn't strong enough to fight back against my phobia. The last thing I remembered before blackness squeezed out my vision was a blur of lilac hair and the sound of my name.

I blinked until my vision was clear. 

I was being carried down a set of stairs. A hand was fitted under my knees, another wrapped around my arms as to hold a silk cloth against my burning neck. My head resting against a chest.

Tilting back, I realized Bastien was carrying me.

What happened? Where were we going?

Everything came back in a rush. The dais. The people. His body against mine. His breath. His tongue.

Shame heated my cheeks. I'd let a vampire lick my neck. Diana, help me.

"Put me down," I managed to say.

"Gladly," he answered. "This is the second time you've bled on my shirt."

As if the wealthy vampire was worried about one shirt. Irritation and shame made me angrier than usual.

"Don't say that word," I shot back, not wanting him to inadvertently make me pass out again. Now that I was in his service, I needed to be a sponge, soaking up every bit of information on the vampire.

"What word?"

I gritted my teeth together. "Bled."

The vampire reached the base of the stairs and turned a corner, leading into a long hallway lit with wrought iron candelabras. The flickering light sent shadows across the art on the walls.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because it makes me sick."

I tore the silk cloth from his grip and held it against my neck. Temper smarting. Shame twisting like a snake in my gut.

"What do you mean it makes you sick?"

His question was like hitting an old bruise.

I'd explained this to many people over the years, including the midwives who bid me to help them in the birthing beds, the healers who asked me to help remove arrows or set wounds, or the huntresses who demanded I skin hares.

I couldn't do any of it without passing out and was humiliated time and time again for being useless in every way imaginable.

"I can't explain it, but every time I hear that word, I get dizzy."

Bastien stopped in front of a door and kicked it open. I let out a gasp as he strode inside and kicked it closed. The door not shutting all the way now that the hinges were hanging loose.

The room was dark, save for the light coming in through the crack in the door, and he laid me down on a velvet settee before striking a match, lighting a nearby candle, and setting it on the small table beside me.

Shadows flickered to life between us. I swallowed hard as he studied my neck. Wrestling the silk cloth from my grip and holding firm pressure against his bite mark.

"And what if you see it?" he asked distractedly. "Is that why you swooned?"

"More or less," I answered, forcing myself to look away from the intensity of his blue eyes, which were fixed on my neck. When I did, I noticed a smear of red still staining his chin, and fresh sweat broke out on my forehead.

"You understand this position entails talking about and seeing the very thing that makes you ill?"

Of course I understood. I wasn't an imbecile.

I hugged my knees to my chest, putting more space between us. "Does it? I thought I was applying to be your royal dog walker."

He let out a chuckle that held no humor as he stood and reached for a chalice sitting on a sideboard. He poured a measure of water into a glass and then offered it to me.

"I can't wait to enjoy a year's worth of your so-called humor in my castle."

I rolled my eyes as I took the glass, holding it to my lips. "Are you always this cheerful, or is it just with me?"

I drank deeply, despite the pain in my throat, and the vampire prince watched me as I did.

"What you see is what you get," he said. "If you want to back out now, I'll understand."

Oh no. He wasn't getting rid of me that easily.

"I'm not backing out."

"Of course you aren't." He watched as I took a sip of water, tracking my every movement with his head canted to one side. "Consent is essential to this process, and if the feedings make you ill..."

"I need this job, just like you need me. I can handle it."

Bastien leaned down so that our noses were mere inches apart. Fear crowded into my senses, but I pushed it back. I wasn't going to let him intimidate me.

"I do not need you. Make no mistake."

I held his gaze, not giving an inch. 

He was lying. I could tell that much. He did need me. We'd sealed our compact, and now he had no choice but to keep me. He might not like me or trust me, nor I him, but we needed each other.

Just for very different reasons.

"Claire!" someone screamed off in the distance. 

I sat up straight. My attention turning to the door. Then came the muffled sounds of a struggle, and I pushed myself to my feet. 

"Get your hands off me! Claire!" the voice screamed again. "Where are you?"

Seraphina.

What do you think if Bastien's sneaky little work around? 👀 Is this something they can keep up given the nature of their relationship? 👀

Question: What makes a character "book boyfriend" material?

I love the touch her and get unalived attitude, even if he hasn't admitted his feelings yet. It's one of my favorite ways to win my heart. That, and when he buys her a whole new wardrobe without her asking for it. That gets me every time. 🤣