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worse. All she could do was wait for the drug to leave her system and see if an opportunity presented itself. Hopefully, he would reveal why he’d abducted her too, and what he’d seen in her blood that had startled him so much.
    He took a step towards her.
    “Do you have a name?”
    She glared at him. He should be the one answering her questions, not the other way around. Biting her tongue, she resisted the desire to say something. He’d slip up and then she could escape. How the hell had he made it in and out of her house? She wanted to ask him, wanted to hear his explanation. There were guardsmen on the gates and stationed around the grounds, and there were nearly one hundred members of her family within the mansion walls at all times. It was impossible that he’d managed to find her and then take her without someone seeing him. Then again, she’d escaped easily in order to hunt.
    “Who is your mother?”
    Her frown intensified and her gaze dropped to rest on the ground.
    “My mother is Iona, leader of my bloodline,” she said without looking at him.
    “No. I meant your real mother,” he said and she raised her eyes to meet his.
    She knew she looked confused; she couldn’t help it. What was he talking about? Iona was her mother. He smiled at her, or at least she thought it was a smile. The corners of his mouth barely moved, but his look softened. She felt as though he was mocking her, treating her as if she was a child like the rest of her family did.
    “Do not be frightened.”
    She got to her feet, pushing her fear down inside of her and keeping her expression empty as she glared at him. She wasn’t frightened. She’d never be frightened of one of his bloodline. But his questions, they seemed to burn in her mind, making it spin and ache while she searched for answers to them. Who was her mother? It was Iona. She was the Chosen Daughter of her household, sister to Arkalus, the Chosen Son of Caelestis. But this vampire of Aurorea had said she wasn’t. He’d said he wanted to know who her real mother was. Real mother?
    Her brows furrowed as she struggled to remember something. It seemed just out of reach, too far away for her to grab hold of and bring into focus. Her real mother? Who was she? A blurred image flickered in front of her eyes and then slipped away before she could make sense of it.
    “I want to go home now,” she said in a pleading tone, her eyes meeting his again. He looked at her as though she was insane for asking.
    “There is no going home.” He took another step towards her. “You are not safe there anymore.”
    “I’m safe in my household. It’s here I’m not safe.” She moved backwards, trying to maintain the distance between them. It hadn’t worked before, and it wasn’t going to work now. Reaching out behind her, she silently cursed when her hands met the cold walls of the room.
    He sighed.
    It made her look at him. When he made no move to come closer, she couldn’t stop her eyes from roaming over his face. The lights overhead made him sickly pale, even paler than he should have been. His eyes were still as green as she remembered them. They were clear and rich, sparkling with intelligence as he looked at her. His black hair was tousled and spiked, neater now than it had been when they’d first met and longer than she recalled. He had fine brows, and a slim nose that made him look regal. Her eyes dropped to his clothes. They were elegant. He wore a delicately embroidered deep red jacket that extended to his knees, with shiny gold buttons. She skimmed over his tight black trousers to his highly polished black boots.
    He looked like a guard, but she got the impression that he was more than that. The status of guard seemed too low and common for him. He was something else. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing as he questioned her, keeping his voice gentle and soothing, and ensuring he kept enough distance to put her at ease. He had entered her home and stolen her,