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Blood is thicker than water
The initial shock numbed the pain so Merlin didn't realize at first that he had actually cut her until she saw her blood, collecting in the chalice. She winced and recoiled but Sébastien held her still, keeping her wrist over the chalice so not a drop of blood was wasted. He was wholly focused on his task and she studied him close up, her eyes tracing the markings on his face. He had high, almost feminine cheekbones but a strong, angular jaw and chin, his lips were thin and seemed set in a permanent frown.
He was shirtless again, his hairless chest almost completely covered in the black markings that glistened in the torchlights, the muscles rippling as he squeezed her wrist. His black pants hung low on his waist, fitting snugly on his hips and thighs and she blushed, realizing that she had been staring at the slight bulge in his trousers. His low chuckle alerted her to the fact that he had seen her looking and her blush deepened as she turned her head away.
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