CHAPTER 147
Lucian froze, looking down at Isabella. She wasn't pale with death but still. "I was killing you, Isabella. Look at you... you can barely stand."
"I feel... I feel amazing," she countered softly, pushing herself off the wall, her movements fluid and predatory in a way they had never been before.
The golden light in her eyes flared as she stepped toward him, the water splashing around her ankles.
She reached out, her hands sliding over his bare, scarred chest, reaching for the back of his neck, pulling him down until their lips were inches apart.
The scent of her—jasmine, blood, and a new sharp of power—was more intoxicating than the blood had been.
"Lucian," she moaned his name, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Kiss me." She didn't wait for him to find his resolve. Her mouth crashed against his with an unbridled hunger.
The copper tang of Isabella's blood was still on Lucain's lips, a forbidden vintage that set his nerve endings on fire all over again.
