Prologue

Blood.

Crimson red liquid with a gloss of deep gold.

The red liquid of life trickled down her skin, creating maroon lines that travelled across her body. The smell of rust saturated the air in thick heady fumes and the scent triggered a wave of nausea through her system. Her body attempted to lurch upwards in a dry retch. But still, she remained frozen on the ground—trapped in place.

The sound of her blood dripping onto the marbled tiles seemed to thunder in her ears. It echoed. Loud and deafening with each heavy splatter. It was a reminder. A reminder that blood was the life-force of all human beings. The fuel to her system. It was something she could not live without.

And she was losing lots of it.

Lots and lots of it.

Her vision went hazy. The lights above her were pulsating and engulfing her blurring vision. Was she dying? She didn't know. She couldn't think. All she could do was feel. Feel the warmth steadily leaving her body. Feel the cold, deep emptiness that ached in her chest like a gaping wound. Feel the gut-wrenching sadness that tinged in her throat.

It hurts, she wanted to cry out. She wanted to scream—wanted to hold herself and sob on the floor. She needed an outlet—needed a method to escape the pain. She needed relief; she needed peace; she needed tranquillity.

She needed warmth, but she could do nothing in her current immobilisation.

All she could do was feel the coldness...and accept it.

Then...she felt it.

The soft pads of fingertips brushing against her arm.

Those fingers moved in an erotic manner. Twisting and turning in a path that alighted a swirling trail of heat beneath her skin. It sent shivers of pleasure that travelled up her spine, forcing goose bumps to surface over her body and sparking an inner heat within her.

The fingers dragged over the trails of wet blood, gliding up her arms and over the tips of her breast. Her breath hitched as those fingers ghosted over the centre of her chest, finally resting in the valley between her breasts. She quivered. Her entire being filled with a deep, dark desire that forced a gasp from her throat. A soft groaned exhale that managed to escape her petrified body.

Then his lips captured hers.

They were like honey, silky and syrupy in their wet opened-mouth heat. They were like the sun, warm and radiant—teeming with hundreds and thousands of emotions that she could not pinpoint. His kiss completed her, forcing bubbles of happiness to pop and froth within her. They sparked and danced in her chest like the fireworks in the night sky.

The gap within her was steadily filled as gold pooled in the crevice within her chest.

And lilacs bloomed from the blood that streamed from her body.