Dion Lancaster grips her hand. He traces the blue veins under her skin with his thumb. He watches her shoulders quake... his lips curve into a sharp, white line.

The day had been a blur of drills and tea in Lyndell Palace. But the scent from the kitchen followed him. Now, the silence of Solara Palace settles around them.

White fangs clear his lip. His eyes bleed into a dark, pulsing crimson. He lunges, his palm locking behind her head to force her neck into the light.

Ruby Kingsley thrashes. Her nails rake across his forearms, snagging the silk of his sleeves. He ignores the sting. Fear pours off her like syrup... it makes the air thick.

He buries his face in her heat. He finds the softest patch of skin over the vein. He lingers there, his breath hot against her pulse.

Ruby's hands go limp. Her fingers slide off his arms. Her head lolts to the side, chin dropping toward her chest.

Dion stops. He pulls back, his brow furrowing. Her chest is a flat line. No breath rattles in her throat.

He shakes her. "Hey!" Her body slumps against the upholstery. He grips her shoulders, his face inches from hers. "Human? Answer me... talk to me!"

Ruby holds her breath until her lungs scream. Dead meat, she repeats to herself. Vampires don't eat dead meat. The Prince's grip falters.

Her chest hitches. She sucks in a jagged, noisy breath. Dion stumbles back, his eyes wide. "You're back," he says, his voice a low rasp. "Humans... you're entirely too fragile."

Ruby's eyes flutter. She gazes past him at the ceiling. "I saw the light," she whispers. "It was so bright."

"What light? This is Châtelet," Dion barks. He looms over her, his hands hovering as if he's afraid she'll shatter again.

"A monster is holding me," Ruby mutters. She lets her eyes glaze over. "Big teeth. Scary red eyes. Get him away from me..."

Dion's jaw snaps shut. He scoops her up in one motion, his arms locking under her knees and back. He marches toward the bedroom and drops her onto the silk duvet.

He stands in the dark for a long minute. Ruby keeps her eyes clamped shut, her breathing steadying. The only sound in the room is the rhythmic, quiet whistle of a snore.

Dion stays. He pulls a velvet chair to the bedside and watches. Her chest rises and falls in a slow, rhythmic crawl. Vampires sleep like statues, eyes open to the void.

Ruby is an open book. He glances at her throat, his jaw tightening, and turns toward the wall.

He moves to the study. The quill scratches against parchment.

His eyes snag on a leather spine as he passes the shelf: The Dominant Vampire's Ruthless Love. His lip curls.

Ruby's eyes blink open as the light fails. She reaches for the pillow and finds the folded square. OPEN ME, the ink barks.

Her fingers twitch. She peels back the edge, bracing for a flash of light.

The script is sharp and elegant. "Durell Palace. Three o'clock. Or I come to you".

Ruby drops the paper. Three o'clock is a memory. She sinks deeper into the duvet.

If he wants blood, he knows the way. Why walk when she can wait?

The last of the orange light bleeds into the Rose Gallery. Ruby stands among the thorns, watching a blue butterfly drift over the petals. For a second, the palace is a dream.

A shadow stretches across the grass. Dion stands fifty paces away. He tracks the way the wind catches her hair.

Her scent is different now—sharper, cooler. He stays in the gloom, watching the light die. He hates the sun.

Ruby turns. She catches the glint of ruby eyes and stumbles back.

Dion is a blur. He appears inches from her face, gold buttons gleaming.

She holds her breath. Her eyes squeeze shut, waiting for the transition to "death".

"You didn't come," Dion says. The words are ice. "Tell me you're ready for the fallout".

Ruby's jaw stays locked. She stares at the silver embroidery on his lapel.

Dion's fingers snap around her chin, forcing her head up. Her pulse jumps under his thumb.

The red in his eyes is the only color left in the dark. If she feeds the monster, the novelty might die. Then the napping can begin.

Ruby takes a heavy breath. She squares her shoulders and tilts her head, exposing the skin.

"Fine," she says. "Just drink. Get it over with".