Page 111 of Poison Sun

“You’re a child,” she snaps.

“I’m star touched,” I remind her. “And I’m your future queen. I have higher rank than you, and I’m not asking you to do this. I’m telling you.”

Cassandra recoils, looking like she wants to attack me more than she wants to keep fighting the guard who killed Yannick.

However, she stands down.

“Damien won’t be happy with you,” she warns.

“Maybe not,” I say. “But this isn’t Damien’s choice to make. And it’s not yours, either. It’s mine.”

Before she can say another word, I hurry down the steps to where Lucas is standing, flip my hair over my neck, and bare my skin to him.

“Don’t even think about draining me,” I tell him. “I have enough sun magic left to burn you to a crisp if you try.”

It’s not a lie, and I’m sure he can see the seriousness of the threat as I give him a glare that could cut glass.

He leans forward, allowing his fingers to brush over my exposed neck.

My skin crawls at his touch.

“A deal is a deal,” he murmurs, and I brace myself for the pierce of his fangs.

“Release her,” he commands the guard.

And then, he bites.

It’s just like I remember. As chilling as it is violating. As searing as it is hypnotizing.

I stiffen, every muscle in my body screaming to react, to fight him off. But I force myself to stay still. To let him take what he promised, and nothing more.

Thankfully, through the haze, I can make out Cassandra’s words to Abigail as she tells her to come with her, and that she’s safe now. But I don’t hear anything more, because a calming warmth hits me. An assurance that everything’s going to be okay. That I’m not in danger.

No, I tell myself. I will not relax. I will not lose myself to the hold Lucas is trying to win over me.

With those thoughts, I reach inward to my core. Past the murky poison beneath my skin, grasping for the sun magic shimmering deeper within, and holding onto it with everything I have. It’s a shield—a barrier between my soul and his attempts to weave a dark, deceptive bond between us.

Eventually, my head spins from the loss of blood. It’s so tempting to sink into Lucas, to relax and trust him to not let me fall to the ground.

But I don’t.

Instead, I focus my strength and will on keeping my magic strong. On keeping myself separate from him. On drowning out the sickening intimacy of his drinking from me and making my blood his own.

My head’s getting hazy. Too hazy.

I’m floating, and then I’m reaching for Lucas’s arms, digging my nails into them, pulling him closer.

He gasps as he drinks, and it turns into a moan of pleasure.

That’s all I need to yank myself back into reality.

Gathering every ounce of resolve I possess, I push against Lucas, my hands pressing firmly against his chest.

I must catch him by surprise, because he stops drinking.

“That’s enough,” I manage to say, my voice low and raspy, as if I’m just waking up. “The shadow souls will be here soon. We have to go.”

I cast a glance at where Abigail was tied to the chair.

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