“What are you doing?”

  Lumi stood on the narrow plank of Rook’s ship. The salty breeze bit at her flesh, the waves below calling to her.

  “I’m going to drown myself.”

  The lazy thud of Rook’s boots on the deck echoed behind her. He didn’t rush—he never rushed—but his presence loomed. She could feel the heat of his stare burning into her back.

  “Don’t be dramatic,” he deadpanned.

  “Dramatic?” A bitter laugh burst from her lips.

  She spun to face him, too quickly. Her foot slipped on the slick plank and for a moment, she was weightless. The world tipped on its axis, the cold abyss below whispering promises of liberation.

  Rook moved in a flash, his arm darting forward. Then he stopped short, fingers curling into a fist as she righted herself. Oak wobbled beneath her feet as she regained balance.

  A harsh breath escaped him. Jaw tight, patience worn thin. “Careful,” he growled.

  “What’s the matter, Rook? Afraid your precious new possession might off herself. Half a million gem down the drain, just like that.”

  Annoyance flickered over his features. She saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the slight narrowing of his eyes. The thought of jumping and shattering whatever plans he had for her sent a dark thrill racing through her veins.

  “Do you regret it?” she pressed, stepping closer to the edge. She thoroughly enjoyed the way his nostrils flared. “Spending all your hard-earned coin on a bloodthirsty beast? You must be devastated.”

  “Enough.” His voice cut through the howl of the wind. “You don’t know a godsdamn thing, Lumi. Don’t pretend you do.”

  She tilted her head, studying him. His composure was fraying, his patience barely there.

  Good. She wanted him to snap, to show the cracks in his carefully constructed guise.

  “It might inconvenience you…” She turned away from him and stared into the endless void, “But if I jump, I’ll be doing the world a favor.”

  “Step down from the plank, Lumi,” Rook commanded, his voice more stern than she’d ever heard it. He spoke to her as if she was a clumsy child who couldn’t grasp the consequences of her own actions. “Do as I say.”

  The wind screeched like a banshee. It tore through her hair and whipped it across her face in painful lashes. Salt and despair hung heavy in the air, but for the first time in days, she felt…calm. The tempest within her was quiet. Beneath her, the abyss waited, cold and infinite.

  “I hurt Kit,” her voice was barely audible over the roar of waves. “I almost killed her. I don’t deserve to breathe.”

  She couldn’t tell if he’d heard her, but his own words cut through the night with clarity.

  “You think this is how it ends for you? Pathetic. Forgotten? Sinking into the depths like dead weight. No, Lumi. That is not your fate.”

  Spinning back to face him, she spat, “What do you know of my fate?”

  “I won’t stop you,” he said, “If you want to throw yourself into the ocean and cease to exist, that’s your choice. But is that truly what you want?”

  Lumi hated that he was right. She was being petty. And dramatic. But she couldn’t bear it any longer. The weight of the universe pressed down on her shoulders, too heavy a burden.

  “Come here,” he commanded.

  For a moment, she stayed rooted in place. But soon her defiance extinguished. She had nothing left to lose. And she was curious about his intentions.

  She leapt from the plank, her boots striking the slick wood of the deck with a thud. Each step towards him felt vacant, like she was going through the motions, but not truly experiencing the moment.

  Rook didn’t say a word as she stopped in front of him. They were close now. Close enough that she could feel the heat rolling off his body. Close enough that the scent of salt and blood tangled in the air between them.

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  A treacherous urge unfurled within her—to step closer, to press her forehead into his hard chest, to let his warmth consume her.

  But she couldn’t. No matter how tempting it was. She couldn’t show weakness—not in front of him. Last night had been a lapse in judgement. She would not fall apart in his presence again.

  Rook produced a damp cloth, as if he’d anticipated this moment. He didn’t wait for permission before he closed the distance between them.

  The cloth touched her lips.

  Lumi went perfectly still, “What are you doing?”

  “Stop talking.”

  And then he began.

  His hand was steady as he ran the cloth over her flesh. The motion was clinical, yet there was something intimate in his care.

  The realization struck her all at once. He was cleaning the blood from her face. Scrubbing away the evidence of what she had done. He worked quietly, unbothered by the mess.

  Soft, but relentless

  It brought her back to that first night, when he’d scrubbed away the paint that hid her scar. But this time was different. Every stroke of the cloth along her lips, her chin, her jaw was electrifying.

  She wanted more, and she hated herself for it.

  She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay still. “Why are you doing this?”

  His eyes flicked up to hers. His gaze brief, yet searing. Then he returned his attention to his task.

  When he finished, he stepped back just enough to look at her. His stare was sharp. Unbearable, but she couldn’t turn away.

  “Don’t blame yourself, Lumi,” he rasped, “What happened tonight is not your fault.”

  A harsh sound caught in her raw throat. “Whose fault is it, then?”

  His gaze dropped to the washcloth in his hand, now soaked with blood. His mouth tightened. “Sol has been keeping your instincts buried for years. When you stopped drinking the tea, they flooded back.”

  Lumi’s stomach twisted, “The god-magic that was suppressed…it wasn’t because I’m gifted, is it? It’s because I’m…because I’m…”

  The word lodged in her throat. She couldn’t force it out.

  “A vampire,” Rook finished for her.

  It struck like a physical blow, leaving her breathless.

  “I’ll take some of the blame,” Rook sighed, “I shouldn’t have pushed you to stop drinking the tea. I didn’t think…” He trailed off, something flickering in his eyes.

  “That I was a monster?” Lumi whispered.

  “That’s…” Rook’s jaw tightened, “Not what I was going to say.”

  “But it’s true, isn’t it?” she blinked up at him, “I’m not human.”

  “No,” Rook agreed, “Humans don’t crave blood, Lumi.”

  She staggered back, her trembling hands finding no solace. The realization left her unsteady. A few hours ago, she hadn’t believed in monsters. Now, she was one.

  “This is your reality now.” Rook said in a flat tone, “You need to get used to it. And more importantly, you need to feed.”

  She recoiled at his words, and watched in horror as he began loosening the tie around his neck.

  “What are you doing?” Lumi’s body went rigid, every muscle looked into place.

  “Offering my neck,” Rook said, almost bored, like he was discussing something utterly mundane.

  “No,” she shook her head, the word trembling on her lips. “No, I can’t.”

  But her body betrayed her. Her eyes locked onto the column of his throat, tracing the faint, rhythmic pulse beneath his skin. His heartbeat was steady, strong. She could hear it, feel it.

  He was virile, the picture of good health. And deep down, she knew. Gods, she knew his blood would taste exquisite.

  “You can.” A grim smile tugged at his lips. “And you will. Trust me, it’s in your best interest. The longer you deny it, the harder it’ll be to control. Do you really want to risk another scene like the one in the alley?”

  No, she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. She hurt Kit. Nearly killed her. Her only friend. She would never forgive herself for that. And she couldn’t let it happen again, but… “I won’t be able to stop.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “I’ll kill you.” The word fell from her tongue like an oath. She wasn’t sure she’d regret it if she did, but she believed it.

  Rook, however, didn’t seem to. “I’m not worried,” he shrugged. “But I should warn you…” he paused, letting the silence stretch long enough to unsettle her.

  “Warn me about what?” she snapped, her voice soaked in desperation.

  Gods, she was hungry.

  “A vampire’s bite.” His tone dipped low, intimate, like he was sharing a secret. “It’s designed to pacify—to sooth. It’s said to make the victim feel…euphoric.”

  Lumi’s lips parted, “What are you saying?”

  He tilted his head slightly, exposing the taut line of his throat. “Your bite might feel good.” His expression remained maddeningly composed, “Too good.”

  Lumi’s stomach twisted, “And?”

  “It could make me want you.” His gaze held hers, unflinching, “Physically. Intimately. I need you to know that before we start.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks, her hunger momentarily drowned by the rush of shame, “You’re trying to humiliate me.”

  “I’m trying to prepare you. This is who you are, Lumi. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you’ll learn to control it.”

  She stared at him, her vision narrowing on the expanse of his neck. She wanted to deny it, but he was right. She needed to feed. Every instinct screamed at her to do it—to sink her teeth into him, to taste the life coursing through his arteries.

  Rook sat on a wooden barrel, his eyes dark, “Come here.” He patted his lap, the command leaving no room for argument.

  Lumi’s face flushed hotter. “You expect me to…straddle you?”

  He arched a brow, lips curling into a wolfish grin. “Unless you want to try biting me from across the ship.”

  “I hate you.”

  “Good,” his smile darkened, “You’ll bite harder that way.”