The Widow’s Blood Debt
Then, the doors at the back opened.
Julian stepped into the light. He was dressed in ivory silk, a color that should have looked ridiculous on a man in this house, but on him, it looked like a challenge. He was pale, his jaw set so tight I could see the muscles leaping in his throat, but his eyes... his eyes were two shards of blue fire.
He didn't look like a victim. He looked like a fallen god walking among the ruins of his temple.
As he reached the altar, I caught the faint scent of him not the blood and grime from the basement, but something clean, like ozone before a storm. My fingers twitched with the sudden, violent urge to reach out and see if his skin was as cold as his gaze.
Hot Chapters