I close my tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. I swear I can still smellAdrien’s thick woodsy scent. I’ve never smelled anything like him before, not even Wyatt smelled that good.
Adrien—the rather attractive shirtless vampire I’d stumbled upon as I tried to navigate my way through this dreaded academy in the middle of the night.
Alright, well, it’s not technically the middle of the night, Ivy. But it will be if you don’t fall asleep soon. And apparently you haveclassin the morning.
Because, of course, my father’s number one advisor not only sent me here to romance a vampire, but he scheduled classes for me, too.
I thought I was done with school ages ago, but apparently the universe decided it wasn’t fucking me hard enough, I guess, all things considered.
My mind is a mess, like a chaotic painting. Nothing makes sense and I know it’s just my brain trying to make sense of what’s happened, but I wish it would shut off. I don’t want to think about Wyatt and his strikingly beautiful features or his deep, velveteen voice that made my insides warm and my thighs wet.
Especially considering the fact he rejected me. He treated me like I was nothing to him, no one of importance. But I can not deny the fire I felt in mybelly, the rush I felt in my blood when he challenged me. I have never considered myself a combative person. Far from it, to say the least. But something about the Castorian prince made me feel like Iwantedto fight. I wanted to wrap my hands around Wyatt Castor’s throat and show him who was truly in charge of the situation. But I did not choke the prince as I wished, knowing it was rude and improper, and I didn’t wish to make things more difficult for my father or myself, than they already were.
And then he’d simply rejected me. He’d cast me off for no reason other than he believed he did notneedme to rule, when the laws of our kingdoms clearly state we can not rule a throne alone without a proper mate. A king needs a queen, and a queen needs a king.
But Wyatt, it seemed, was not following the law of our land. He was going rogue, and using his lineage and bravado to storm over decades of tradition and stomping his bloody foot in a fit of rage.
My throne! Mine!
Even now, as I lay here, the very thought of him and his foolishness makes me feel hot and angry, but…
The memory of his sharp fangs, his lips so close to mine and his hand around my throat…
I press my legs together to quell the sudden ache brought on by my bloodheat.
I know my father waited until my bloodheat cycle to arrange this meeting; a detail I am certain was intended to manipulate the Castorian Prince, in the event I could not entice him with my beauty or my charm.
There was always sex, and the promise of being thefirst and only vampire to break me and have as he wished, was a low blow to a vampire’s primal instinct.
But that itself wasn’t enough to make the Castorian prince desire me. I shouldn’t feel ashamed of his outright denial, his rejection. But I can not shake the feeling, all the same. I’ve never been rejected before. I’ve never been desired by a man before, either.
I was quite honestly kept like a bottle of bordeaux in a cellar until I reached the height of fermentation; making me sweeter than any off-the-rack bottle.
But sweet or not, I was clearly out of my league. I was clearly not sweet enough to save my kingdom or his, and now I am here, with barely ninety days to find someone to fix this problem so that I may ascend my throne. And when I do ascend my throne, my first task will be challenging the Castorian prince. If he wishes to be at war, I will engage in his bloody war until he is begging for me on his knees and then I will reject him as he rejected me.
But I can not do that unless I find some poor unfortunate bloodsucker to bind.
And that itself is going to be difficult, given my title, my rejection, and the fact I am not fully transitioned yet. Not to mention my whole virginity debacle.
My mind wanders to Adrien—the hot, shirtless vampire who seemed to be a bit of a grump if I’ve ever met one.
He didn’t know who I was, and that itself was perplexing and reliving at the same time. I know I may not be so lucky tomorrow, when I arrive at my classes. Adrien may not have known who I was, but it is highlylikely that some folks may know who I am. And if they know who I am, then they will know I have been rejected—a princess– and that alone is quite a stain on one’s record as far as relationships go.
Who’s going to want a rejected princess?
Though as I think the words, my mind wanders to Adrien. I don’t know him, not really, but I can’t deny that the moment I ran into him, there was some sort of strange energy between us, some sharp pang in my chest.
And it hasn’t gone away since.
Even as I lay here, my body spent, tired as all hell, I can’t deny that something feels different inside me.
You’ve suffered a traumatizing event, Ivy. Of course, you are different,I chastise myself.
But my mind keeps going over the events of today like a movie on repeat, trying to find some semblance of reason, some spark of hope in what feels so bleak.
I breathe deeply, letting out a sigh, and I swear the scent of cedar and moss hangs in the air, as if Adrien himself is somehow here with me, even though I am alone.
Alone. I’ve always been alone, in a way. I grew up in the walls of the castle, shuttled from class to class and my free time spent learning languages and art and music and anything my father deemed would make me a well-educated, multi-faceted offering.
