I think about biting Wesley and making him mine for all eternity. And then I descend into the worst fantasy of them all—I let myself imagine him holdingourchild, onemade from both of us, even though it’s damn near impossible.
But dreams are like that. As impossible as they are, they persist in your brain, driving you mad.
As mad as a vampire prince begging for you to bite him.
I am so lost in my thoughts, I nearly walk past the gym. With a grunt, I shove away my stupid fantasies, knowing I will never have them, and I best remember that.
I need to keep from falling into his sea, if only so I can keep him, and myself, safe.
It’s nearing ten-thirty by the time I have completed a work out and am covered in sweat. My body aches and I’m hot and starving. I could have drank from Wes earlier. He wouldn’t have cared, I know that, and drinking blood from one of our own is much better than human blood. But with how euphoric I felt as I buried myself in Wesley, I feared I would lose control. That I would become too enamored with his blood, his body, and the way he makes me feel, and I would let my venom come without a second thought.
And then he’d asked me to do it. He begged me to bite him. And I almost did.
My control slipped.
I can’t let it slip again. Which is why I need to put some distance between Wesley and I. For both of our sakes.
I don’t bother putting a shirt on, since I’d lost it ten minutes into my session. Instead, I use it as a towel towipe my face and throw it around my neck. The gym is quiet now, since I am the only one that is left. Most of the other students left mere hours ago, and I realize I’ve been here practically all night.
Working out my stress.
Still, I feel uneasy, but I also feel tired. And tired works, because when I am asleep, I am not thinking of Wesley Castor.
I shut the lights out and head down the hall. It’s late, so the halls of the academy are eerily silent and give off a haunting feel. I take my time, knowing no one will be out at this hour, figuring a walk will help me settle my mind. Yet as I turn the corner, I nearly fall over when I run into something. No,someone.
“Ow!” the voice calls out, and I step back to see a woman I have certainly never seen before.
The class of vampires here is not large, twenty, thirty individuals, tops. Our dorm is the least populated because there are not as many of us as there are angels, witches, or shifters.
“Who the hell are you?” I ask, taking in the sight of the petite woman. She rubs her head, her long, dark hair fading into the shadows. Her skin is like porcelain china, which contrast her deep crimson eyes.
Crimson eyes… I have to say that is the first time I have seen such a shade on a vampire in person. I’d heard of ancient vampires with this trait, but it seemed to be one that had been bred out over time.
But I can not deny the woman in front of me has those ancient jeweled irises, and they are quite stunning.
She is pretty, I will admit. In a soft, almost innocent sort of way. There is no mistaking what she is, from her beauty to her peepers, she is irrefutably like me. A vampire.
“You do not know who I am?” she bites, almost as if she is appalled.
“Would I ask you if I did?”
Her gaze narrows. “Why are vampire men so fucking rude?” she asks, and I raise an eyebrow.
“I am not rude,” I defend. “I am not the one who nearly trampled me to death because they were not looking where they were going.”
She crosses her arms over her black dress, the motion pushing her breasts together as she regales me with an alluring gaze. I can’t help but scoff at her attempt to play coy and sexy.
“Nice try, princess, but your feminine wiles will not work here,” I drawl sarcastically.
“So you do know who I am.”
I roll my eyes. “A pain in my ass? At this rate, I’ll make it back to my dorm by sunrise.”
She scoffs back at me. “Maybe that would be best, since clearly you are not very useful.”
I take two steps towards her, and then I smell her. Her scent is thick—floral and heavy, like a funeral with too many flowers.
I don’t like it, but…
