As Alaric started down the long corridor, he tugged on his gloves, adjusting them with slow deliberation, and straightened his collar, his gaze focused ahead.
'You haven't taken from her yet,' Lucius's voice echoed in his mind, laced with judgment. 'Odd for you, really.' As Lucius knew of vampires, he found it unnatural that Alaric hadn't yet drawn blood from Salviana.
'Why isn't that a question?' Alaric replied coldly, eyes narrowing at the empty stretch of hallway. The subject had crossed his mind too many times.
'Alaric, you know you'll have to eventually. Avoiding it doesn't help,' Lucius pressed. Lucius had never understood why Alaric had married Salviana if he wouldn't even tap into her potential. He had honestly believed that was why he picked her. She was a divine lady—her blood could bring unparalleled clarity and strength to his dark, convoluted origins, origins he was desperate to uncover.
