Copyright © Lizzie Lynn Lee 2014. All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing. Radek Nikolaev wanted to hate her. The precious Aeon’s daughter, delight of the Seven Houses. Heir of the Empire. His number one enemy. Despite who she really was, Radek couldn’t bring out the deep-seated anger for what her ancestors had done to his kin. He didn’t know why he couldn’t hate her, considering all vampyres were the same. They were cunning, treacherous creatures that had enslaved the Lycans for more than three centuries, cheating them out of their birth land and forcing them into being mere thralls. All except her. She was different. Vita Serova Petrienko. The woman Radek had just kidnapped. She sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded on her lap, her expression calm and serene—apparently she was unperturbed by the fact her fate lay in Radek’s hands. He could kill her at his whim. He had the right to do so, since she was his prisoner, his leverage to get out of Aeon. But she didn’t seem frightened of him or by the whole ordeal. When Radek secretly studied her through the crack of the door, the princess seemed excited, as if this whole experience were nothing but a game. Well, I’ll be damned. Radek stormed in and slammed the door closed. The noise startled her. Her gaze cut to him and his breath caught in his throat—he still couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. Her wide eyes were pale blue, surrounded by thin rings of red, the true mark of a royal-born vampyre. Her nose was pert, complementing her high cheekbones and ruby lips. With pale skin and flaming hair, she looked as if she were forever bathed in the sun god’s blessing. She smiled. Radek cursed in silence. Why was she smiling? She was supposed to be scared out of her wits. Being held captive by their lowly thralls was every royal-born vampyre’s nightmare. “Are you hungry, Princess?” Vita shook her head delicately. Radek stooped over her, planting his hands on the side of her knees, his face a hairsbreadth away as he asserted his dominance over her. “Why the smile? Aren’t you afraid of me?” She blinked. Her lush dark lashes swept down then up like a dancer’s fan. “Should I be?” “I can kill you.” “Why don’t you?” “You haven’t served my purpose yet.” “That is to be expected.” Her voice was cool with confidence. “But I don’t think you’ll hurt me.” Radek narrowed his eyes. “How can you be so sure?” “It’s not your nature to hurt the innocent. You have a good heart, Wolf Prince.” Wolf Prince. The words had rolled out of her mouth without a shred of mockery, unlike the way her father spoke to him. The way she’d said it was as if she were wholeheartedly acknowledging his birthright. He was the prince from Evona—a conquered empire—leader of the pack, noble by birth, an outcast in a foreign land. Radek wished he were able to hate her.