The lights flickered so hard the gold walls seemed to shake. My hand froze in mid-air, the glass trembling between my fingers.
For a second, I almost pulled back. Almost. But the room didn’t move.
The guests didn’t blink.
Damian didn’t breathe.
They were all waiting for one thing.
Me.
My throat tightened. My hands were shaking so badly I could hear the faint tap-tap of my nails against the glass. I brought the cup closer, the scent getting stronger-sweet, thick, sharp enough to make my eyes sting.
Just a sip, I told myself.
Just enough to make them stop staring. I tilted the glass cup. The red liquid touched my lips. I took the smallest drink I could-barely a taste. But even that tiny amount slid across my tongue like warm silk. It didn’t taste like wine.
Not really.
It was
