There’s only one way to determine the truth.
And that’s by entering the dining room.
Taking a deep breath, I step through the threshold and find the table lit with candles. There are two place settings, one at the end and the other right beside it. There are also several food dishes situated nearby, all with serving utensils, but the lids are closed, making it impossible to know what’s inside.
This might all be for show, something my nose seems to agree with since there are no lingering scents in the air.
Well, nothing other than the lavender and vanilla.
I inhale, loving that aroma and searching for the source. Because I know it’s him. I can’t explain how I know that. But it’s just like when I first started researching Count Negru. I’ve always known what he is, and I’ve refused to believe otherwise.
“Hello, Viviana.”
Goose bumps pebble along my arms.
That voice doesn’t belong to Marius.
It’s darker. Deeper. More cultured in nature.A stronger accent.
It’s English… I think. Regal.Crisp.
The shadows of the room seem to move, the candles decorating the walls flickering in response.
I try to find the source of the movement, the source of thevoice. But I can’t see him. He’s everywhere and nowhere at all, his scent stronger now and wrapping around me in a wave oferoticism. I… I feel like kneeling. Lowering my gaze to the floor.Begginghim to reveal himself.
“Count Negru,” I breathe, trying to be respectful and respond to his greeting. Because this is him. It has to be. Who else would be in this room, commanding such energy? Exuding this wicked of a presence?
“The title ofCountis beneath me,” he replies, the world seeming to shift as the shadows again taunt the surrounding light. “I’m a king, pet.” The outline of wings becomes visible, causing my heart to flutter wildly in my chest. “The Strigoi King.”
A Strigoi,I think, familiar with the term from Romanian folklore. It’s come up several times throughout my research, the myths similar to the vampire legends I’ve studied. But never in reference tohim.
He steps into the light, causing my lips to part. His muscular stature is encased in a pale suit that’s clearly been tailored to fit him perfectly.
Because it’s framed around hiswings.
Enchanting bat-like wings.
Gray in color.
Just like the illustration…
Only, his jet-black hair is shorter now, the ends dancing around his pointed ears.
But the tail is exactly like it was depicted in that image. I know because that’s the part of him I studied the most. Something about itcaptivatesme. And seeing it in person is no different.
It’s a deeper red than the illustration, almost appearing black in color.
Or maybe it just appears that way because it’s wrapped around his leg, creating an enticing contrast against his light-colored suit pants.
“This is the part where you kneel, Ms. Dalca,” he tells me, drawing my gaze up to his square jaw and the beautiful full lips that just spoke.
However, his words have me focusing on his alluring gaze. So otherworldly. Sostunning. Like obsidian stones glittering in the sun.
His almond-shaped eyes are mostly humanoid, just… decidedlypowerful.
He lifts one black brow, the action reminding me that he told me to kneel.
I could. Ishould. I even wanted to moments ago.
