CHAPTER 36
Lucian's eyes fixed on the red line gliding down her back. He reached out, his thumb catching the drop of blood before it could fall. Instinct screamed at him to do something reckless.
He didn't.
"Now the face," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. He stood up and moved back around to the front of the couch, sinking onto his knees between her legs once more.
He reached out, his hand cupping her jaw to tilt her head up. Isabella looked at him—really looked at him even when kneeling he still towered over her sitting on a couch.
Lucian's thumb hooked under her chin, forcing her gaze to stay locked with his. The air in the room felt thick, charged with the metallic scent of her blood and the dying magic of the cabin.
"Don't blink," he whispered as his other hand reached for the shard in her cheek. It was buried deep, the skin around it puckered and pale.
