He was dressed entirely in black and wore a grim look over his handsome features. He was on the hunt, with an intoxicating scent drawing an invisible path for him to follow. Gradually, the full notes of its fragrance unfurled itself in the air, and the man found himself sucking his breath.
A tranquil stream of lavender, a beckoning burst of frangipani, and an intriguing, barely distinguishable hint of poison ivy…
A scent like no other, he thought pensively, and one so mild that only those with the sharpest senses would detect the dangerous threat underneath.
The scented trail continued into the heart of Amstel Square, and the man followed it with his customary briskness. He despised waste and inefficiency of any type, and the only instances he was inclined to take his time was when he was fucking someone.
A short distance away, he heard a panicky rush of words being uttered, watchtower sentries frantically sending out messages to anyone who needed to be alerted.
The marquis!
The Marquis of Sangre!
The marquis is on his way!
OBLIVIOUS TO THE CHAOTIC flurry of activity taking place within the walls of her school, Rhapsody, seated under the shade, had her head bent over notepad while absently tapping on the blank page with her pen. Already on her twenty-seventh attempt, she was still no closer to finding the ideal words to impart…
I know you know I am Not Normal. It must therefore have been clear to you from the very start that making me your pet and heartkeeper would be A Terrible Mistake.
No, no, no. To write such words would be akin to begging for his lordship’s pity, and that would not do. Her Master was an exceptionally kindhearted man. He would never set himself free of her if he believed his departure would cause her the slightest bit of sorrow.
It shames me to admit that I Did Not Completely Understand the duties and responsibilities of being your pet and heartkeeper. It was only when I witnessed the interactions between Lady Zari and Lord Alexandru, your brother, that I realized how Grossly Mistaken I was about my role.
Rhapsody nearly gagged at what she wrote and quickly flipped to the next page in a rare fit of frustration. Why, it was almost as if she was begging her Master to prove her wrong – when that was not the case at all!
She knew – and had long accepted – that she was not the kind of girl men would fall in love with, and most especially not men like her most precious Master.
Vainly she had waited for her Master to break the contract between them, as what was only proper, but two years had already passed, and still she remained under his care.
It was as if her Master was prepared to suffer for her shortcomings, and Rhapsody could not in good conscience allow such a thing to happen. This letter should ensure that her Master would find someone better. Or at least it should do so…if she could only figure out just what to write exactly.
Dear Master,
It has long been made clear to me by A Credible Source that I am Without the Necessary Womanly Assets to properly Stir A Gentleman’s Interest. It is therefore best that his lordship—-
Rhapsody’s head snapped up as an unexpected sound interrupted the silent stillness of the air around her.
Someone was coming.
AWARENESS RIPPLED THROUGH the gaggle of breathless young ladies the moment the Marquis of Sangre strode into view.
Tall and strikingly virile, the dark-haired nobleman had a punishingly autocratic air about him that appealed to the ladies’ innate desire to be dominated. They loved how the marquis’ lethally sculpted muscles were prominently defined against the sophisticated cut of his overcoat, and oh, how their secret parts quivered at his swoonworthy looks, which were as harsh as they were immaculate in its perfection.
Dark, arrogant brows arched over sinfully long lashes and eyes an arresting shade of green. A patrician nose that was an ideal match for the marquis’ bronzed, high-paned cheeks and masculine jaw, which was marginally softened by the firm, sensual curves of his lips.
When the marquis’ impatient gaze swept over them, the girls couldn’t help holding their breaths and hope for the improbable. Oh, but could it be? Could the most powerful vampire in the world possibly be here…to acquire a pet of his own?
A moment later, however, the marquis had swung his back to the crowd, and the girls could only sigh in disappointment as they watched him stalk in the direction of the school’s graveyard.
Indifferent to the amount of attention he was attracting, Mihail worked hard to rein his temper in even as his lips tightened in resolute displeasure. Her scent had changed, he thought broodingly, and in such a way that he absolutely did not approve of.
Still in her trail, he soon found himself going down a stony pathway that weaved through marble tombstones and grave markers in the shape of angels and gargoyles. That Rhapsody seemed to favor spending her leisure time at a place where the dead slept, he didn’t give a damn. That her scent, however, was now tainted…