She froze, her blood pounding in her ears. His mouth came closer and closer to her lips.

God he smelled so good, would he taste as good? But then he changed direction and nuzzled her ear.

In a voice that sent shivers down her spine he said, “You are mine, Willow Bellum. Mine now and forever. I warn you not to run from the beast for the beast will only chase you, thrilled by the hunt of such a perfect prey. Come with me now and save yourself because you will never be able to outrun me.” The lulling, deep tones of his voice had her eyes closing, and the kneading way he held her arms was almost nice. But the challenge he presented brought her back to reality.

Using all her strength, she shoved him away from her. She had a feeling he only moved at his own volition and not because of her, but her ego ignored that.

“I will never be yours. I am not a possession.” She gave him one last look then sprinted off down the street, the power of her body guiding her.

The chase was on.

Chloe wished she could say she’d spent the night MacGyvering the room up with gadgets and weapons to help her escape or, at the very least, had already escaped but instead she’d spent the night passed out naked in the fluffiest bed she’d ever slept in.

Really, what was this thing made out of—angel feathers?

In her defense which, okay, maybe wasn’t much of one, she’d been dead tired from the flight to London, the craziness at the cemetery, and the, like, thirty minutes of sleep she’d gotten hadn’t been enough.

Climbing off the bed, she found a stack of clothes sitting on the side table. She vaguely remembered seeing the table last night when she’d been busy climbing into bed, but she knew there hadn’t been clothes on it then. Did Tyrian come in here while she was asleep? Did he find her even a hint as sexy as she did him? Because she was almost tempted to stave off her escape until after her new moon.

The man confused her. On one hand, her instincts told her to move away far and fast from him. On the other hand, her mind told her that her father would not have sent her to live with a dangerous man. The man was so cold he was practically ice. It must be the curious side of her that wondered what it would take to see him thawed.

The thought of her new moon sent a flutter of nerves through her. The history of the succubi was mostly misconstrued by everyday humans and even by some supernaturals. The truth was that succubi’s history has always been male dominated. To this day when daughters reach the age of 29, they are given to a special man of the family’s choosing—usually the father’s choosing. This special man was called the Protector. He was the succubus’ chosen male, to have and to hold, forever and ever. For males of her species, or incubi, the same occurs.

Except as men, they are allowed to choose their own Protector. It made her sick just thinking about how unfair it was.

Chloe shivered and went to the adjourning bathroom. At least this castle of death had modern day plumbing. She turned on the shower and waited until it got hot before getting in.

There was only a single, white bar of soap in the shower and she used it for everything.

The fact that her father never abided by the same rules as other succubus families only made what he did even more strange. Tyrian had mentioned a debt. Is this what her father was about? He’d always been a protective man, an even more protective father, but to give each of his daughters away to a man just like every other succubus family? It made no sense. What kind of debt did Tyrian owe her Papa to receive her in return?

The new moon was soon. Two maybe three days tops. A shiver that had nothing to do

with cold rushed over her. Succubi and incubi were always given to their Protectors after their 29th birthday because the following new moon sent them into full sexual maturity.

Chloe ran a soapy hand between her legs and wondered if Tyrian was one of those men who had hundreds—if not thousands—of lovers. She honestly couldn’t see him being the type, though she wasn’t sure why. What kind of women did he like? Tall, petite, curvy, blonde, dark, shaven? She touched her own mound and felt the spring of short, dark curls there.

A wave of self-consciousness sprung from her with its nasty head. She wasn’t incredibly slender, nor was she too short or tall. She’d always been a somewhat plain woman. She knew she didn’t turn heads and for once, she wished that maybe she did. What would it be like to have a man like Tyrian under her power?

She might just learn that sooner than later. The presence of the new moon beat against her skin, tightening it like a cord being cranked tighter and tighter around her. Her virgin body had never held a man. Most succubi saved her body for her Protector, though that wasn’t why she was a virgin. She never cared to wait until her new moon. The truth was that she’d just never found a man she wanted badly enough. She’d experimented in other ways, yes, but never sex.

She’d never felt a man surge inside her, but had wondered about it for long hours.

The new moon sparked a drastic change in her body. She would no longer require food for sustenance, but sex.

Chloe relaxed her head back against the shower wall and didn’t stop her fingers from circling quickly over her bud. Her free hand found a breast and palmed the weight of it. She saw Tyrian’s dark head behind her closed eyes, saw him feasting on her breasts like she was some irresistible maiden he couldn’t get enough of, and saw his cock breaching her unused entrance.

She wanted that, she realized. Wanted to feel what it was like to have him inside her.

Would it ease the dull, empty ache she always felt so deep inside her like she did right now?

Would he hold her close and come hard inside her just as she came apart? Her breath hitched and her orgasm peaked, pulsing waves of heat throughout her body. She jerked against the wall, then instantly her hand went limp.

It was hard and short and left her wondering what more there could be. The possibility of seducing the vampire was tempting, though Tyrian already told her that he wouldn’t be using her for her new moon. Maybe she could use him.

She was scared honestly, had no clue what her new moon was going to be like. Maybe it was a subtle arousal that made her wet and ready for sex. Or maybe it was something greater....

Chloe shut off the shower and wrapped a fresh towel around her as she tiptoed her way across the cold stone floor to the clothes on the table. She dressed quickly; ready to be warm from the frigid temperature.

She had to get out of this place, because if she couldn’t have the single, albeit it scariest, man she’d ever met for her new moon then she didn’t want anyone. Her emotions had always been lopsided like that. One minute she wanted vanilla, then after a bite she wanted chocolate.

But Tyrian wasn’t an ice cream flavor. Lushalicious. That’s what he’d be called. Or maybe Icey Fudge. Mmm...She’d lick that any day.

She hesitated at the door to her room. Was this just her hormones talking? The man

intimidated the crap out of her and now she was thinking of willingly giving herself to him?

Okay, he already made it clear he wasn’t taking it. Seducing him, that’s what she was really thinking. The more she thought about it the better the idea seemed. Was she turning into one of those women who were attracted to dangerous, dark men? Probably.

She opened her door and peered out, then swung it open wide on a gasp. The warrior

from last night was standing across the hall, a battle-axe strapped to his back like it was every day wear. A sword bigger than her arm hung low on his hip and past his knee. Seriously, how did he wear these weapons as if they were sunglasses and not a huge metal axe?