"Isn't elven blood supposed to... boost your strength?" My voice came out as a ragged whisper, each word scraping against my dry throat. The cold metal of the manacles bit deeper into my ankles as I shifted weakly. "Why haven't you drunk it before now?"
Saxon's crimson eyes darkened like old blood as he wiped a stray droplet from his lips with the back of his hand. "For vampires, elven blood isn't just nourishment—it's a curse disguised as a gift." His fingers tightened around my wrist, his thumb pressing cruelly into my pulse point. I could feel my own heartbeat fluttering against his cold skin. "It's like the finest wine laced with poison. One sip brings unbearable euphoria, but the hunger never fades. It rewires the mind, twists the soul until all you can think about is your next taste."
