When Cora arrives home with no recollection of the previous week and two bite marks on her neck, she begins to retrace her steps straight back to notorious vampire Damon Harrison-Altera. He claims to have loved her - but so does his best friend, Nat...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
SILENCE ENCAPSULATED MY hearing as I glanced around the hall, feeling numerous pairs of eyes raking up and down my body. I knew they could hear it; the rush of blood through my veins; the unsteady beat of my racing heart. I tried to distract my thoughts, blinking and deciphering where Damon had been taken to by pinching the skin on my hands, but it only made me panic further.
My eyes skimmed over the Nathan's comrades. I narrowed them to slits, holding up my hand to prevent them from advancing. They could smell my fear, but I refused to let my façade crack. "I'd think twice about hurting me, before I ruin those pretty faces of yours with my heels."
The men smirked at my threat, but halted much to my relief. I was quick to gather up the bottom of my silver dress, pulling it away from my feet as I hurried through the arch to my left. Another huge room filled with guests was my next obstacle, and I did my best to keep pressed against the walls to avoid attention.
Once through the second room, I pushed through a second archway, only to find a staircase leading upwards. I sighed, brushing my red-gold hair from my face as though the act would clear my mind. Without any other options, I mounted the stairs, only to find myself on the balcony encircling the large hall I had previously been in.
The balcony was vast, lining every corner and edge above the great room. Slabs of exquisite black marble were indented below my feet, dully reflecting the yellow lights swinging above my head as I glanced down to check that my skirt hadn't torn. Wrought iron bars lined each walkway, preventing the typical drunk party-goer from falling to their death. But perhaps the most impressive feature about the room were the arching pillars, standing to attention in white stone like those fashioned outside historical Greek buildings. Despite the lack of natural light, vines snaked around the iron railings, and found their way to the sky, a pugnacious and bitter scent of poisonous plant lingering in the air until it felt as though I had forgotten how to breathe.
