“We didn’t really talk much on the drive here,” he said with a shrug.
Tressa’s eyes widened, and she looked back and forth between Cora and Saiden. “She doesn’t know?”
Saiden shook his head, and Cora waved a hand in front of Tressa’s face.
“Know what? Kinda feeling a little out of the loop here.”
Something unspoken passed between Saiden and Tressa, but eventually the dark-haired beauty turned back to Cora and forced a smile.
The only problem with having a grin that lights up a room, though, is that it becomes glaringly obvious when it’s no longer authentic. Saiden was hiding something from her, and Tressa wasn’t happy about it.
Well, that makes two of us, Cora thought.
“No, I’m not his wife,” the pretty vamp clarified, tugging Cora up to the top step. “I’m his cousin, more or less. But forget about him for now. Let’s go find you some dinner.”
As Cora allowed Tressa to pull her into the home, she tried not to think too much about how much relief swept through her from hearing they weren’t together. She shouldn’t care if Saiden had a girlalready. It didn’t impact her in the slightest.
Not. One. Bit.
She glanced back to see him lingering just outside the door, his eyes fixed intently on her, and it sent a delicious shiver down her spine.
Sooner or later, she really needed to start believing her own lies.
Chapter twenty-three
Saiden
Saiden hung back as Tressa dragged his mate into the house, mentally kicking himself for not forcing the conversation that morning. Or at any point during the painfully quiet road trip. He told Baylin last night that he was going to talk to Cora about the concept of mates before they arrived, but that plan took a header out a ten-story window when they kissed, and she made it clear she never wanted him to touch her again.
What was he supposed to say after that?I know you don’t want me to kiss you, but the universe knows that we belong together so any chance you’ll get over that in the next few minutes?
Trudging up the steps, he couldn’t help but recount all the things he wished had gone differently. His violent outburst on the side of the road being at the top of the list since that had likely done him no favors in trying to convince her that vampires weren’t soulless killers. At this point, Tressa was his best bet to get Cora onto Team Vamp. Nobody could spend time with his perky cousin and honestly believe that she was evil. Like all of his kind, she had a dark side, but for the most part she maintained a sunny disposition that could hopefully sway Cora’sopinion about him. Then maybe he could casually bring up the topic of mates and judge her reaction.
Pausing just outside the door, he debated his next step. This whole process was supposed to go so differently. Normally when a vampire met his mate it was instant attraction on both sides. No seduction. No games. No convincing. Just an immediate feeling that the person in front of you was the other half of your soul, and no one else would ever come close.
Of course he had to be mated to the one female who would fight the process every step of the way. Maybe this was Lilith’s idea of retaliation for hunting down his own kind. He’d assumed never having a mate was his punishment, but this was starting to feel like a much more painful kind of torture.
Heading into the main building, he swept his eyes around the parlor and spotted Cora and Tressa standing in front of the bank of floor to ceiling windows. He was pleased at the mesmerized look on her face as she gazed outside. Itwasthe best view in the compound to take in the enormity of the estate grounds as it perfectly showcased the rolling hills, quaint babbling brook, and large meadow out back that often had a small herd of grazing deer. With the sun just dipping below the horizon, it made the whole place seem peaceful and so at odds with the oversized building most of them called home.
Marquin modeled the compound after the Palace of Versailles originally, but a couple decades ago he got on a modernization kick and resurfaced the entire exterior. Saiden thought it looked like a Swedish prison, but at least the inside still boasted the classic baroque style he’d grown rather fond of over the past century or so.
The sharp staccato clacking of heels on marble resounded through the long hall to his left, and Saiden turned to see Raven stalking toward him, her short hazelnut hair swishing violently around her face, furyblazing in her eyes.
Making a snap decision, he sped down the hall to intercept her before whatever she was so enraged about spilled into Tressa and Cora’s conversation. Raven was normally a reserved individual, but when she got in one of her moods she could become the epitome of the evil vampire Cora was so convinced they all were.
Grabbing her by the arm, he yanked her into the library and slammed the door shut.
“Are you out of your Lilith-damned mind, you sodding wanker?” Raven barked. Much like Baylin’s drunken Irish brogue, Raven’s British accent always became more pronounced the angrier she got, and right now she had the Queen’s English dialed up to an eleven. Although Saiden doubted Raven’s expletives would be much appreciated in the royal palace.
“That depends on what you’re referring to this time,” he answered, sinking down onto a soft burgundy chaise. He’d been afraid he was the one responsible for her current acidic demeanor. It was the last thing he needed right now, but since what he did need was her help, he’d have to pacify her first.
“I’m referring to how badly you’ve bollocksed things up with Cora. First Baylin tells me that you have him hacking into her life behind her back, and now I find out you haven’t even told her that she’s your bloomingmate? Why exactly does she think she’s even here?” Raven folded her arms and glared at him like a mother admonishing a kid who got into the cookie jar.
Despite Saiden being a few decades older than Raven, something about her posh, upper crust demeanor and the sharp pantsuits she always wore made him feel like a child in comparison.
“I take it Baylin was spying on us again?” He should have known his brother would have tuned into the cameras the second he pulledup. Baylin probably sent a text to the entire cadre before he even set foot in the house. He loved his brother, but the guy gossiped like a twelve-year-old girl.
He forced himself to meet Raven’s accusing stare. “I told her that I’d been sent to compel her because of her script, but since I failed I would let her plead her case to Marquin. I said he would ultimately decide if she could keep her screenplay or not.”
