Victoria should have let him go. His stabbing had been predicted by one of the souls. Aden had expected it. He might not have been prepared for it, but he had known he wasn’t meant to have a future beyond that point.

And really, he and Victoria would have been better off if she’d let him go. Fact: you didn’t mess with fate without paying a price. He should be dead, and Victoria should be free of his baggage. But panic had bloomed inside her. He knew, because he remembered the high-pitched tenor of her screams. Could still feel the way her hands had clutched at him, shaking him as life flowed out of him. Worse, he could still feel the white-hot tears slipping from her face onto his.

Now, she was paying for her actions. She might continue to pay until Aden accidentally killed her—or until she killed him. A life for a life. Wasn’t that how the universe worked?

This time, he expected to die from the inferno Victoria’s blood was creating inside him. Instead, he found himself…calming. Not just calming, but thriving, his limbs growing stronger, his bones vibrating with energy, his muscles flexing with purpose.

This had never happened during a feeding. Wasn’t supposed to happen now. They drank, they fought and they passed out. He didn’t recharge like a battery.

When the blood on her tongue dried up—far too soon—he was reminded of his need, need, need now, and he stopped worrying about the repercussions, stopped caring about his reactions.

“Victoria,” he croaked.

“More?” she asked, breath emerging shallowly. Her nails were leaving track marks down his nape and along his shoulders. The hunger must be coming upon her, too.

Even without her monster, the beating heart of her vampire nature and the driving force of Aden’s new menu selection, she craved blood. Maybe because it was all she’d ever known. Maybe because she was as addicted as he was.