Blood and Lace: 3. Prince's Rules

The rain had stopped by morning.

Elena woke to find the crimson silk sheets tangled around her legs, her skin still humming from the night before. She didn’t remember falling asleep. She only remembered his mouth at her throat, his fingers moving inside her like they belonged there, the dizzy, molten way his voice had wrapped around her name.

And now—daylight.

If it were daylight. The windows were shuttered, the air thick with the faint perfume of roses and smoke. A low fire burned in the marble hearth.

He was there.

Seated in a high-backed chair carved with roses and thorns, his posture perfectly straight, a glass of dark liquid in his hand. He wasn’t looking at her — not yet. He sipped, then set the glass aside and rose in a slow, deliberate motion.

“You’re awake.”

Her voice came out hoarse. “You kept me here all night.”

“You fainted,” he said, as though it explained everything. “I fed you. I kept you warm. I could have taken more, b