TO SARAH, HE WAS JUST A MAN

His body hardened even more when he remembered the way her heartbeat had sped up at his touch.

Her pulse was slow and steady now, the blood in her veins calling him to come and satiate his hunger. As he listened to the steady thrum of it, his own heart began to pound.

Roland slid one hand up her back, tunneling through soft, thick curls, and rested his fingers upon the satiny skin of her neck just over her pulse.

What would she taste like? Sweet like her smiles? Or spicy like her daring spirit?

Would drinking from her merely dull the pain? Or would it set him aflame?

His body was struggling to heal itself. The need for blood lacerated him.

Roland felt his fangs descend and lengthen.

Just one taste. Sarah is sleeping. She need never know.