Then I remember that I was talking to the Strigoi King.
Or pretending to, anyway.
And I was in the middle of saying what I’m not going to be.Right.“You want me for lunch? The answer is no,my king. We need to talk about the rules and the importance of consent first.”
Bold words, I suppose. But they’re important to say after last night.
I don’t even know what happened.
His tail was there.
Followed by his mouth.
Did he fuck me?I look down, frowning. I’m not sore at all. Which is strange. After everything he did inside me with that triangle tip, I should feel something.
Well, regardless, I need to at least wash the blood off.
I start toward the bathroom, then pause at the tray on the table.
A tray full of snacks, including bags of chips.
Arching my brow, I thumb through it and grab a banana, as well as a water, and take them with me on my quest to the shower.
The rainfall pours over my head for a lot longer than thirty minutes, something I do on purpose because I want to defy Marius’s statement, and also because it feels interesting.
It’s like I can see the tiny droplets falling in slow motion. Such a bizarre realization, one that puts me under a strange sort of trance. The water gliding along my skin captivates me, too. The soothing sensation is hypnotic. Mesmerizing.Wonderful.
I trace a path down my arm, then giggle at the tingling feeling that follows.
Only for a growl to make all the hair dance against the back of my neck. “I do not like to be kept waiting, Ms. Dalca.”
“Oh?” I draw out the word but don’t look at him. “Well, I don’t like waking up and being told to leave by a Strigoi’s familiar.”
I bend down and pick up a bottle, then read the French label. Even without studying the language, I would still recognize the translation forshampoo.
Well, I haven’t washed my hair yet, so I may as well do that now.
While the Strigoi King waits.
Opening the bottle, I lather the light pink liquid into my hair. It has a hint of strawberries to it that I find quite pleasant.
Of course, the scent of lavender and vanilla is stronger.
And it’s coming from behind me.
“I also don’t appreciate nearly bleeding out on a dining table,” I go on as I move beneath the spray, my back still to the Strigoi King. “I’m not particularly fond of losing time ormemories either.” I utter the words while drawing my fingers through my hair. “And I strongly dislike being locked in a room when I’ve shown no desire to escape.”
I finish rinsing the shampoo, then bend to pick up the conditioner.
A subtle growl echoes behind me, the owner of it obviously growing impatient.
Rather than acknowledge the sound, I say, “I’m not fond of rules without explanations,Your Majesty. So, if you want me tobehave, you’ll have to actually talk to me. Not fuck me with your tail. Not kiss me senseless or bite me. Buttalkto me.”
I turn as I massage the conditioner into my scalp and finally meet the monster’s obsidian gaze. It’s practically burning with annoyance, little crimson flares flickering in the irises. “Are you done chastising me,pet?”
“Probably not,” I sass back at him, feeling particularly confident.
Which makes no sense since Marius told me thatCiprianwants me to leave.
