Lungs heaving, I tried to breathe. The wave of misery thrummed from my arm and echoed in my head. “Go to hell…” I rasped.

Still pinning me to the carpet, he squeezed my broken arm.

I writhed as agony sang through me. Every nerve ending pulsed into a burn. A guttural sound escaped me, pain and determination. I wouldn’t tell him. I didn’t even know the answer.

He leaned his weight onto my arm, and I screamed again so I wouldn’t go insane. Fear made my skull hurt as Piscary’s eyes flashed into hunger. His instinctive need had risen high, triggered by my struggles. The black of his eyes swelled. I heard my sounds of pain as if outside my head. Silver sparkles from shock started between me and Piscary’s eyes, and my cries turned to relief. I was going to pass out. Thank you, God.

Piscary saw it, too. “No,” he whispered, his tongue making a quick pass over his teeth to catch the saliva before it fell. “I’m better than that.” He took his weight from my arm. A groan came from me as the agony dulled to a throb.

He leaned to put his face inches from mine, watching my pupils with a cool detachment as the sparkles disappeared and my focus returned. Under his impassivity was a growing excitement. If he hadn’t already sated his hunger with Ivy, he wouldn’t have been able to keep from draining me. He knew the instant my will returned, smiling in anticipation.

Taking a breath, I spit in his face, tears mixing with my saliva.

Piscary closed his eyes, his expression showing a tired irritation. He let go of my left wrist to wipe his face.

I swung the heel of my hand up to smash it into his nose.

He caught my wrist before it hit. Fangs glinting, he held my arm. My eyes traveled down the scratch he had cut in me to invoke the amulet. My heart gave a hard pound. A ribbon of blood trailed slowly to my elbow. A drop of red swelled, quivered, and fell to land upon my chest, warm and soft.

My breath was shaking. I stared, waiting. His tension rose, his muscles tightening as he lay atop me. His gaze was fixed to my wrist. Another drop fell, feeling heavy against me.

“No!” I shrieked as a carnal groan slipped from him.

“I see now,” he said, his voice terrifyingly soft, harnessed need pulsing under it. “No wonder Algaliarept took so long finding out what frightens you.” Pinning my arm to the floor, he leaned closer until our noses lay side by side. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. “You’re afraid of desire,” he whispered. “Tell me, little witch, what I want to know or I will slice you open, filling your veins with me, making you my plaything. But I will let you remember your freedom—mine forever.”