“Little witch, before you stress yourself out, I wasn’t completely honest with you,” Vlad said, and she pinched her eyebrows at him. “They didn’t merely drug you. They slipped wards in pill form into your drink. Wards prevent witches from casting spells, but those drugs suppress magic on an internal level. It’s incredibly dangerous, and that you survived the attack without lingering side effects proves how powerful you are.”
“Wards in pill form?” Belladonna ripped her hands from Vlad’s in horror. “That’s the equivalent of forcing a vampire to swallow sunlight. How can you allow that drug to be used?” Just when she started to like her husband, his cruelty reminded her of the savage she’d married.
“I don’t, little witch. I may approve wards in physical spaces, but I don’t condone drugging witches with them,” Vlad said, his expression harsh yet kind. His voice explicitly confirmed he wasn’t the villain she feared he was… at least in this regard, and she almost cried in relief knowing he didn’t support a drug that would torture her from the inside out. “I’ve made many changes to how the vampires conduct themselves during my reign, including outlawing pharmaceutical wards, but my predecessors were monsters,” he continued. “Unfortunately, some still live by their example.”
“I was born after you took control,” Belladonna said,realizing just how much older her husband was. Their age difference didn’t matter in the long run. Witches and vampires were immortal creatures, but it was strange to think that he was leading rebellions while she was in diapers. “I don’t know what life was like under their rule.”
“There’s a reason your mother hates vampires, yet signed the treaty with me. Why she agreed to you marrying my son before I claimed you. Rowena remembers the bloodshed before I seized control. They call me the angel of death because of my tattoo. I live up to the name, but those who preceded me were depraved minds. My violence serves a purpose. Theirs was for sport. I don’t condone drugging women in clubs, and you witnessed my judgment firsthand.”
“So, there was nothing I could’ve done to save myself?” Belladonna asked, feeling marginally better about her failure.
“You could watch your drink closer. Or just share my whiskey shots.” Vlad winked suggestively, and she blushed all over again. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. I’m making dinner, and I wanted to ask you to join me.”
“You cook?”
“I’ve been alive a long time. There are many things I can do.”
“Um…” Belladonna tried to summon a reason to turn him down, but nothing came to mind. They’d been talking more frequently, often for extended periods, but those conversations were always the result of her aggravating him. She’d never sought him out under the guise of genuine interaction, but as she searched for an excuse to decline, the realization that she loved the idea of eating dinner with him like an actual couple flooded her being. “Let me shower, and I’ll be right down.”
“Take your time. I need at least another half hour.” Vlad turned to leave and then paused. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Oh, and have I gone crazy, or is that a new cat?”
“Um…” Belladonna twisted to where Fang and Broomstick lay sunning themselves and was surprised to find that somehow a third black cat had joined her pets. She didn’t know how the animal had found her way into the gym, but she wouldn’t tell Vlad that.
“That’s Jinx,” she said, using the first name that came to mind, and while Vlad obviously saw through her charade, he simply crossed his arms over his muscular chest and strode for the exit.
“I hope this one doesn’t bite.”
“She doesn’t,” Belladonna called after him. “Only the one I named after you does.”
“Oh my god,” Belladonna moaned as the pasta hit her tongue, and Vlad smirked at her response. He knew she loved Italian food, so he picked this specific dish just for her. By her reaction, he’d chosen well.
“Did you make the pasta from scratch?” she asked, twirling the noodles around her fork, and taking a slightly unladylike bite that most would find rude, but he took as high praise. Sauce reddened her lips, and combined with the black dress with a decidedly witchy vibe that she’d worn for their first meal together, she was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. He didn’t understand how a woman could be so sweet yet make him so hard, but he thoroughly enjoyed the enigma that was his wife.
“I did.” Vlad bit into his own pasta, watching her wash hers down with a sip of wine. He could tell by her little eye flutter she liked the red he’d selected as well, which broughthim pleasure. He’d gone into the cellar and pulled the most expensive bottle he owned down from the shelf. He’d been saving it for a special occasion, and the first time his wife joined him for dinner seemed appropriate.
“Not only can you cook, but you make pasta from scratch? I thought I was a good cook, but this is incredible. Plus, the wine… I want to bathe in it, it’s so delicious.”
Vlad shifted in his seat, picturing Belladonna’s soft skin dripping with blood and wine, and he winced at how painfully hard she made him. He was also annoyed at his reaction. He’d invited her to dinner to learn more about the woman he was currently obsessed with, not fantasize about that moment at the pool. She was beautiful, but appreciating her beauty wasn’t enough. He needed her to share her soul with him.
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you pick up a lot,” he said. “I’ve spent years in Italy.”
“You learned to make pasta in Italy?” Belladonna leaned forward with a dreamy expression as she twirled more noodles around her fork.
“And pizza, and gelato, and tiramisu.”
“I hate you.” She took a bite and then captured her wine glass. “I would love to learn to cook in Italy. I’m so jealous. I’ve never left the country. My mom…” She trailed off as if she suddenly realized who she was speaking to.
“No, please, continue,” Vlad encouraged, topping off her wineglass. He found the alcohol delicious, but she seemed to love it, so he wanted her to have her fill.
“Thank you.” She watched him pour, studying him as if trying to decide if he was being genuine. “My mom never let me travel, and not because she was controlling, but because she understood the power I would hold if her heir was kept a mystery. So, I’ve never done anything as cool as makingpizza in Italy. I’m still young, and I’ve had fun over the years, but I hate being hidden away.”
She fell silent, and Vlad berated himself for his part in trapping her. “I’ll take you to Italy,” he blurted without thinking.
“As a vacation or a business trip?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Because we both know how the last work outing ended.”
