Bettina stared down at the crystal, then up at Daciano. She had never seen a male look so anguished, as if he'd been gutted and was slowly expiring. "Vampire, I appreciate the gesture, but I can't accept this," she said, returning it to him. "Please put it back on."

Brows drawn, he reluctantly did, his bemusement seeming to deepen-as if she'd rejected him anew.

"I'm only saying that you should think about a decision like this."

"Think? Bettina, I can't think. Since my blooding, logic and reason have vanished. As I said, all I can do is feel. And I've very little experience . . . feeling."

"What happened between the morning after we made love and that twilight in the tent?"

"I don't know how to explain myself, or even if it's possible."

"Try."

"During the tournament, there'd been much . . . pressure," he began haltingly. "It continued to build."

"What kind of pressure?"

"Over that week, I experienced your attack firsthand, and it filled me with unimaginable wrath. And yet I could only murder and torture your foes once. I was expected to slay Gourlav-but not to injure him. I'd believed that I would fight Caspion to the death-and that I would lose you if I survived. Then, when we made love, I denied . . . instincts."

His instinct to bite. Just as Sabine had said.

"I'd lost blood against the primordial and continued to deteriorate over the day. Then you appeared, and you showed such concern for Caspion. I thought I'd been doing everything right to win you from him-denying myself, toiling for the future, trying to earn your affection."

She was aware of how hard he had worked and all the miraculous feats he'd accomplished in such a short time. He'd been under enough pressure to make twenty Dacians snap. Even now he wasn't physically well, obviously hadn't been drinking enough to sustain himself.

"The jealousy maddened me. You were right-I wasn't hearing you. I can see that now. Even the mere mention of his name enraged me."

"Why? I thought I made it clear that he was my friend. And I . . . I made love to you, Trehan. Surely you understood how I felt about you. I believed we were getting married in hours."

"I see it now, but gods, I couldn't then! The jealousy . . . Always I remembered our first night together. Always I could see how you would be with Caspion, could see exactly what he would enjoy if you ever went to him. It made me crazed. . . ." He trailed off, clenching his jaw.

She tried to imagine what he'd gone through. How would she feel if Trehan had welcomed her into his bed, yet then she discovered that his every touch and kiss had been intended for another?

Jealousy scalded her at the mere thought.

"Then, in the fight, when I realized I'd been poisoned, I remembered that you'd handed me that goblet. I concluded that you were in league with Caspion." He clasped his forehead. "I believed that you would wed him and that I'd lost you forever. I wanted to punish him for winning you. I couldn't handle the idea of not having you," he said, adding in a mutter, "any better than I can now."

"If I'd let you drink from me, would you have reacted differently?"

"This is in no way your fault. It was mine."

"But would you have suffered that confusion and aggression?"

"No matter my condition, how could I have suspected you?"

How? She sighed. Probably because I had a poison ring, a poison arsenal, a smoking-gun goblet in my hand, and my best friend in the ring with you.

Suddenly his hand shot out, palm gripping the back of her neck. "Bettina, I thought . . . I truly thought that I was doing everything right. I want only to do right by you."

And with those laden words, Bettina recognized that this wasn't over between them. Her grief from losing him started to evaporate.

She began to view their circumstances in a completely new light. Cas was alive, Bettina was a free queen in her own right, empowered in more ways than one-and this gorgeous, sexy Dacian looked as if he was barely restraining himself from pulling her beneath him and kissing her until she decided to keep him.

And she would keep him.

I want him above all things. These days, Bettina of Abaddon got what she wanted.

Grabbing her, Trehan? Snatching her nape?

With an inward curse, he released her, turning away to try to reason this out. To calm his frenetic thoughts.

Merely looking at her face made instinct scream inside him. Much less the siren's call of her sexy, little pulse-point.

"I can't stay mad at you for suspecting me." She touched his back, the contact jolting him with anticipation. "Just as you doubted me, I doubted both Cas and Raum." He heard her exhale.

He didn't breathe.

"I'm not blameless, Trehan. I'd do things differently if I could." Over his shoulder, she dangled a chain, threaded through with . . .

A male's gold ring.

His eyes slid shut as he clasped it in his fist. "You made this?" Voice gone hoarse, he said, "For me?" He yanked it off the chain, couldn't shove it on his finger fast enough.

"Yes. The morning after we made love."

He twisted around to face her. "Then you can forgive me." Everything he desired-family, friend, mistress, grand love of his life-was so godsdamned close. My love awaits with widened eyes. . . .

"Vampire, you were a certain way with me in the beginning, and then you changed. It hurt so badly, like I lost you twice. I could never go through something like that again."




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