“She stood with her back to him, ignoring him, delighting in the wedding festivities, laughing often.Sweet Goddess, even her laughter spiked his blood-need, which caused other needs to rise as well. His desire for her was never far away and deepened now, echoing through each cell of his vampire body, stiffening muscles and other parts, begging for sustenance, all kinds.He should have been beyond such madness. He was three-hundred-years-old, for the Goddess’s sake. But ever since Abigail Kirkland... had made her presence known and felt in Merhaine, he’d been held hostage by even the scent of her.Like crushed rosemary.He breathed in, his nostrils flaring. A full sliver of heaven in that delicate scent, with just enough woman beneath to rob him of rational thought.And she a human.He flexed his biceps: he was that mad. He had to work not to let his fangs descend, else everything he felt would be on display for even the lesser folk to know and understand. He wouldn’t let her humiliate him.This madness was maddening.He stood behind her, and a little off to her right side.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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