She laughed again and said, “You’re quite handsome. I’d say you were more handsome than my Aidan, but you’d know I was lying.” She ran her hands through her hair and tilted her head back in a sensual motion that emphasized the line of her neck. He realized he was staring and broke off his gaze. Inwardly he was repeating to himself, this is not my wife, this is not my wife. She stepped close again and kissed him. He turned his head away and she began kissing his cheek and neck and nibbling on his ear. Despite himself his own body was responding to what she was doing. He could hear the beating of her heart, smell the heady scent of her, and it was impossible to ignore. He stepped to the side, trying to break free. She let him, smiling in amusement at his flushed face. He got away from the wall and moved closer to the middle of the room.

She advanced on him again and again he helplessly backed away. His head was in a whirl, he couldn’t think straight. “I know you,” she said, that seductive smile still on her lips. “I know your every weakness, your every want and desire. I know you want me. There’s no point in resisting. You can’t deny your feelings. Listen to them, they are telling you what you really want.” With every word she stepped closer and he backed away. It was only when the edge of the bed bumped against the back of his legs that he realized she’d been maneuvering him into position.

She advanced on him and the only place to go was onto the bed, which he did not want to do. He stood frozen by his confusion as she pressed her body to his. She kissed him again on the lips. Her arms went around him and she whispered again, “I know what you need.” He tried to calm himself, tried to remember who she was, who he was. This wasn’t right! Then she lifted her hand to her own neck and one long manicured fingernail dug into her throat. She broke the skin and a few red drops oozed out. Aidan stared. Huger rose up in him and mingled with the storm of emotion that enveloped him. Four days was a long time. His hunger was terribly, horrifyingly strong, and for him blood was more than simply food. The hunger he felt was a mixture of ordinary craving and passionate desire. He tried to force it away, but it insisted. The scent of blood seemed heavy in the air, despite the few drops that caused it. He wanted… he needed… and at last he denied his hunger no longer. With a low moan he fell on her neck, his fangs opening deeper wounds from which her blood freely flowed.

He was immediately aware of her mind touching his. Or no, not touching, engulfing, drawing him in. Her emotions were strong, and the blaze of pure physical passion that poured from her was impossible to resist. He was pulled down into it, his own passion rising. He lost all thought, all memory, all consciousness of right or wrong. He knew nothing but the intensity of the feelings that spiraled upward in a feedback loop of pleasure.

What they did then was not making love. Love didn’t enter into it. The emotions that lay beneath the sea of the dark Flame Song’s passion were not caring or tender, they were instead a twisted mixture of sadism, contempt, and an overpowering desire to control. The pleasure they shared was tainted and dark and when at last it was over and Aidan came back to himself he turned away from her, curled up into a ball of misery, and wept.

He could still sense her very dimly, and what he sensed then was another flare of pleasure, strong and bright, at the pain and misery he felt. She enjoyed his pain nearly as much as she had enjoyed their physical union, possibly more. He shuddered and curled up tighter.

She rose from the bed. She watched him for a while, and Aidan was sure the look of sardonic amusement he’d first seen on her face was back. He stayed where he was with his eyes shut, tears trickling down his cheeks, but he heard her move away from the bed and could tell by the change in her footsteps that she had shifted into her firecat form. She must be feeling some weakness from blood loss, but she obviously wasn’t going to show it to him. Her soft padding steps went out the door and it shut behind her.

Gradually Aidan began to pull himself together. He found his trousers and pulled them on. He was looking at the mirror and wishing he could see if he looked as bad as he felt when the door opened again. He looked up to see the gnoll's canine face regarding the empty mirror with something like curiosity. It advanced into the room and took him by the arm again. He didn’t resist. Perhaps he might have successfully escaped then, with Flame Song’s interest elsewhere, but he was too worn and numb to even think of it.

He welcomed the cool darkness of his cell. His mind was still reeling from what had happened. How could he have done that? How could he have let it happen? He had sworn that he would never again hurt his wife like that, and yet at the first temptation to do so, he had given in with hardly any resistance at all. Hunger was no excuse, he had gone longer than that before, he had known it was possible, but he'd done it anyway. He pictured the scene again and thought of all the things he could have done. There had been a hundred ways he might have avoided it, however determined this twisted version of his love had been. His heart ached from it and he began to cry again. He knew this time that he would not lose his love because of this, but somehow that was even worse. He would hurt her, and she would just forgive him again, even though it broke her heart. Was that why I did it? His guilt reached a new high at the thought. Did I give in because I knew there wouldn't be any consequences? Am I really that weak?