Princes of Castaldini

Then he let her down, stood back, vibrating. She saw his fantasies, imagined each dig of fingers and nip of teeth and flay of breath as he hauled her over his shoulder, stormed into her room, flung her on her bed and ravished her.

With an explosive oath, he turned and strode through the arches of the vast corridor until darkness claimed him.

She didn’t run after him. Something she couldn’t—didn’t want to—define overpowered even the mind-numbing hunger.

She stumbled through her door, fell onto her bed fully clothed and prayed for sleep.