The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

eyes wouldn’t open again, but they did. My vision cleared.
Soft light from a gas lamp flowed across gray walls and an
old, worn chair—
A chair that wasn’t empty.
A male was slumped in it, his skin a beige-brown, his
dark hair cropped close to the skull. He rubbed at his eyes,
and a strange feeling took root in my chest, a sensation I
tried to grasp. But whatever it was kept slipping through my
fingers. I was too starved to concentrate. I needed…
The male sighed and my muscles tensed. My legs curled
up, and the ache in the pit of my stomach and my chest
grew and grew. Throat constricting, my heart started to thud
heavily against my ribs as the hunger seized me. I wasn’t
aware of moving, of sitting up, until hair fell over my
shoulders, causing my skin to pinch. The man lowered his
hand.
Shock splashed across his features and against my
heated skin like an icy rain shower. My legs tucked under
me, tensing.
He leaned forward, gripping the arms of the chair until
the tendons popped, and his veins… “I can still feel your
notam.”
His words didn’t matter. Hunger pierced my chest as my
chin dipped, and my lips peeled back. My entire being
focused on his throat, on where I swore I saw his pulse
pounding.
“Shit,” he whispered, rising.
I shot off the bed and launched myself at him.
Stumbling back, he caught my wrists. The back of his knees
hit the chair. Off-balance, he fell into the seat, and I went
with him, straining forward as I scrambled into the chair.
“Gods. You’re fast. And you’re really strong,” he grunted, his
arms trembling as he held me back. Strands of coppery-red
hair fell across my face as I lifted my head.
He gasped, his blue eyes widening. “Holy shit.”