Scott's POV
One of my favorite things about being a vampire was the hunt.
I relished it.
Unlike Nicklaus, who clung to his foolish sense of morality whenever it suited him, I never pretended.
He liked to believe there was still something human buried inside him. A conscience. A boundary.
But me?
I knew better. We were monsters. Predators. The top of the food chain.
Pretending otherwise was laughable.
It had been far too close the day Maeve stumbled across the dead body in the bathroom.
A mess that should never have happened.
Too close for my liking.
I had managed to slap a cloaking spell over it, thin and fragile as glass, just enough to blur the scene before her eyes.
But magic was never easy for me.
I was one of the rare ones, vampires born with an affinity for the arcane. But it always came with a price.
Every spell had its toll into me: bloodlust sharpened to agony, and excruciating headaches.
It wasn't fair.
