This chapter contains mature themes, blood consumption, and implied sexual intimacy. Reader discretion is advised.
Lucien couldn't sleep and was restless his thirst growing, he has practice control over the centuries, but one human has been able to make his lose control that he fought do hard to maintain.
The memory of the servant girl's silence measured, restrained lingered like an insult. He paced his chamber once before stopping abruptly.
Rowan!
The butler appeared as if summoned by thought alone. Tall, immaculately dressed, his silver hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck, bowed his head low without ever changing his expression.
"Send a courtesan to my chambers," Lucien said coolly. "Immediately."
Rowan inclined his head. "As you wish, my king."
The woman arrived shortly after.
Lysandra.
