I lost count of the days and months I spent locked inside.
I read through Dragomar’s entire library, drank wine, soaked in long, scalding baths, and made love to my moroi whenever the boredom consumed me. Every time my feeding felt unfinished, he compensated tenfold—almost indulgently—just to keep me from pouting.
But I still yearned for the thrill.
For adrenaline.
For the electric pulse of having someone’s life beating in my hands.
That was the climax I craved, and the one I had to deny myself over and over again.
Yet I could feel my powers shifting.
My body sharpened, sculpted.
My reflexes grew so sharp they nearly matched Dragomar’s.
Something ancient pulsed under my skin, waiting, growing, learning me from the inside out.
We even slept now on a decadent circular bed in the li
