“Holy shit, I’m glad that’s over . . .” Thackery felt all too relieved to leave Caidir Olc in the dust behind him as he galloped off into the wilds of Blossom Forest, away from that nest of fellow vampires and the repulsive “king” who ruled them in every sense but title. Draven might not be alpha of the bloodsucker paradise, but he still reigned as the first leech to exist in these damned lands. His eyes had been the first to take on the impossible ruby hue that sliced through darkness like a crimson blade; his fangs the first to pierce lupine flesh because of that undeniable urge to feed. It was thanks to that filthy bastard that Thackery also suffered the same terrible pangs . . . that he could no longer walk into daylight without head-splitting pain and the sensation of being burned alive. An entire aspect of his life had been ripped from the blonde monster’s grasp in only a few seconds. Thacks belonged to the night now—to shadows and moonlight and death. Not that he’d been a perfect angel before the Change. He’d committed plenty of horrific sins with sunshine beating on his back and shining into his once baby blue windows. It’s just . . . Thackery didn’t have a choice now. And that forced slavery grated on his nerves like steel wool on bare flesh.

By the time his paws carried him back to Drylic Cofa, darkness lay heavy and thick as a winter pelt upon the landscape. Starlight twinkled coldly against a backdrop of endless blue-black, undiluted by the moon’s more dominant silver beams—where that heavenly eye would normally blink, Thacks saw only an abyss of emptiness. The new moon. A malicious smile curved the corners of his pretty-boy mouth, and twin scimitars glinted past his chin. In this sort of deep night, his carmine irises flared even brighter, painting the path in front of him with sickly pulsing red. He knew without having to find his reflection that his face would be the perfect picture of a beautiful demon: lovely inviting features haloed by hellfire, gorgeous and dangerous. His tongue tested the sharp points of his fangs as he drew near to the caverns he sometimes called home, allowing himself to feel a throb of hunger pull at his stomach. The beast did not need to feed . . . but damn, he wanted to. Thackery had craved power his entire life, and nothing made him feel more unstoppable—more godlike—than the screams of his victims as he tore into their vasculature and unwound it like a ball of wet yarn. “Should I stick here tonight? Perhaps find another place to eat . . .” Oddly enough, Thackery preferred Drylic Cofa to any other territory in Blossom, despite the fact he’d faced such trauma here. As long as Draven was nowhere near, he found the caves to be almost comforting . . . they were one of the only sources of safety for when the sun began burning up the horizon.

“I suppose I have enough time to—the hell?” The scent of blood. Fresh, clean, young, hot. Thackery’s whole body froze, snapping into the posture of a hunter. Jowls peeled back from serrated cutlery, his long monstrous daggers already dripping with venom. Before he could stop himself, he was leaping around boulders and the jutting entrances to caves. He snuffed the air like an animal possessed, a low growl shuddering in his throat. Soon the spotlights of his portals blazed upon a tiny fae—no more than a pup. A tiny scrap of a creature with sooty fur that’d been scraped up without rhyme or reason. Thacks prowled closer, hackles lifted and drool gleaming as it dripped from his jaws. A soft hiss escaped his vocals when he stood merely a yard away. Why wasn’t she moving? Responding? Didn’t she see the unnatural shine of scarlet bathing the very ground she lay upon? “What are you doing here alone, little morsel?” The child shivered in place, pitiful whimpers leaking from her mouth. It almost seemed as if she’d given up. But Thackery had just got here—surely she hadn’t given herself over to death THAT quickly? Grimacing, the vampire attempted to quell the savage noises bubbling in his chest. Once he was close enough to touch her, he prodded the girl roughly with his muzzle in an attempt to get a real reaction out of her. His nose came away bloody . . . not a good sign, though he lapped up the precious liquid the way someone might lick honey from their skin. “Seriously, kid, what’s your deal? Pretty young to be on your own, right?”

He asked more out of curiosity than an honest desire to help her. Thacks did not have room in his stone heart to give a shit about anyone else—even if that other person was a helpless fae alone and bleeding in the middle of nowhere.