Julian stayed where he was, his wrist still lifted between them. The room had gone very quiet. Even the music from the club beyond the walls felt distant now, reduced to a faint pulse beneath everything else.
Lucian's gaze dropped to the inside of Julian's wrist.
Not hungry, not careless, but measured.
Lucian reached for his arm.
His fingers closed around Julian's wrist, firm and cool, turning it slightly so the skin lay bare beneath the light. The earlier cleaning had left the place faintly cold. Julian could feel his own pulse there, steady and exposed.
Lucian looked up once.
"Stay still," Lucian said.
Julian nodded.
Lucian lowered his head.
Julian saw the fangs before he felt them.
They were not exaggerated, not some monstrous spectacle. They were simply there, sharp and pale against Lucian's mouth, made for exactly this. The sight of them sent a quick, involuntary tension through Julian's body.
Then the bite came.
It hurt.
