Alaric's hand stayed clamped on Kate's breast. It wasn't a gentle touch. It was possessive. Demanding. He could feel the frantic flutter of her heart beneath his palm, like a trapped bird beating against cage bars. Her mind was screaming in the silent, magical darkness he'd wrapped her in. She was trapped. Awake. Blind. Mute. Terrified.
He squeezed again, harder this time, enjoying the way her whole body jerked like a puppet whose strings he held. Her silent, internal screams were almost... palpable.
'Okay, this is fun,' he thought, a cruel amusement curling his lips. 'The pure terror... it's a nice little appetizer.'
But...
'Silent screaming gets old fast. Where's the entertainment in that?'
He wanted to hear her. That was half the fun. He wanted her pleas. Her curses. Her eventual, inevitable, broken moans. That was the real music. The soundtrack to his conquest.
