Lord Damien was nothing like she expected. No fangs bared, no predatory stance. He sat in his library, surrounded by books, looking more like a scholar than a monster.
“You’re here to kill me,” he said, not looking up from his book. “But first, let me show you something.”
He led her to a room filled with medical equipment. “I’ve spent two centuries searching for a cure. Not for myself—for others. Every vampire I’ve saved from their bloodlust, every life I’ve preserved instead of taken.”
Elara’s hand tightened on her stake. “Vampires don’t save lives.”
“Then you haven’t met the right vampires.”
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