He barely heard the gasp escape her lips, but he did see her brilliant brown eyes, how they danced with alarm at his presence, how her lips trembled slightly with what she had done, yes, and now for the glare in his eyes. He knew she could see the hunger they held, he knew she could see, in that moment, just who he truly was…what he was. Yes, Christian knew she could see all these things, knew she could do nothing but bask in the monster that he was.Which was why he was not surprised when she stepped toward him, her shaking lips moving, allowing the low sound of her voice, her sweet, drawing voice, to enter his terribly haunted ears, the ears that caught every breath, heard every pulse of scared heart:
“My Lord…your eyes….”
“Yes,” he barely whispered, the word hardly escaping his throat. The hunger was all he could feel, her blood all he could smell, the pulse of lust just there beneath her skin, calling him, drawing him ever closer…. And yes, he felt the skin of her neck, felt the blood just there, her blood…his food.
“M-my L-Lord,” she whispered still as the door closed behind her, her eyes still held on his face. He thought how lovely it was that she did not jump at the sound of the door closing, her fate being sealed. She was a willing target, yes so very willing…and now he slid a hand around her waist, pressing her closer, the blood only surging thicker in her veins, sending his own dead heart to soar with absolute need.
He barely heard her voice continue to plead for life, life that he was all too aware belonged to him now, no, all he knew was her neck, how soft it was, how the vein there pulsed and rushed with her heightened apprehension.

–Chapter Seven: A Night of Secrets; The Immortal’s Guide: Another Delacroix Novel Coming Soon