I kept my gaze fixed on the floor as he helped me to stand. Usually, this shyness was an act, a way to ensnare my patrons, but not now. Lord Azad was like the sun, his attention a searing heat, and I feared I might become blind if I looked into his light.
“Adrienne Valois, my lord,” I answered his perfectly shined shoes.
A knuckle touched beneath my chin, gently drawing my face up until I had no choice but to look at him. I expected to see what I always did when others looked at me: a desire for my blood. The desire was there, but beneath it all was an odd sort of worship. Lord Azad looked at me the way I’d seen my brother, Louis, look at our small neighborhood statue of Amayah before he’d pledged himself to her service.
Unbidden, the memory of my brother’s face when he’d been dragged from her temple and back to my parents flashed through my mind before I pushed it away.
Lord Azad’s thumb brushed my chin, the tip following the curve of my bottom lip, before he dropped his hand in favor of brushing his mouth across my knuckles. “Serang lan nauth, Mademoiselle Valois.”
My throat dried as he rose to his full height and warmth flooded my cheeks at the intensity of his stare. Before I could respond, Gerald leaned forward, his grip on my waist tightening. “Mademoiselle Valois is my personal…companion.”His voice dripped with pride, as if he was showing off a prized stallion.
Lord Azad’s brows ticked up. I kept my face blank—I was not Gerald’spersonal companion, though there were immortals who paid exorbitant amounts ofoyistato dens for exclusivity with a particular blood giver. Regardless of present company, it was frowned upon to exclaim openly that one drank from a living source in fear one of the Covenant’s spies was close at hand.
The lord of the house exchanged a brief look with Jules before giving Gerald a bland smile. “Well, she is quite a jewel, Lord Montag.”
It was not the first time I’d been called such a thing, but the compliment slipping from this immortal’s lips burned across my cheeks even as it turned my stomach and thickened my throat.
Gerald beamed—as much as a vampire like him could. He brushed one of the tendrils of hair from my face, dragging a finger along my jaw. My skin itched and I took a deep breath, counting the seconds of my exhale. Lord Azad watched me so intently, I wondered if he sensed I wished to pull away from the touch, even as I tilted the corner of my mouth up and leaned into it.
“You are generous with your flattery, Lord Azad,” I breathed, ignoring the vampire at my side, who was all but pissing on my leg.
“Mademoiselle Valois deserves more than just flattery,” Gerald chimed in while the hand traveling down my face gripped the nape of my neck.
A muscle ticked in Lord Azad’s jaw and he tilted his head to the side in the way I’d seen wolves size up their prey, but it was Jules who answered with a small step forward. “MademoiselleValois is also a skilled dancer and singer, with a penchant for languages and the pianoforte.”
I suddenly felt as though I were cattle up for auction, but I dipped my chin demurely.
“One of the finest ladies bred from the upper class of Oylen,” Gerald added.
Madame Searah smiled blandly at the immortal. Never once had he been told such a thing, but, like so many within this city, he assumed with my beauty and education I came from human nobles. If he knew where I’d come from, who my family was, I was sure Gerald would have instead given me the same treatment as a gutter rat.
Lord Azad gave a noncommittal sort of hum, but his attention roved across my face as one might study a map. My breathing hitched and the heat in my cheeks snaked down my throat and across my chest. Beautiful men had given me attention before, but never like this, never with that worshipful gaze and openness I did not often see in males. And then all at once he took a step back, giving Gerald another bland smile and nod.
“It is an honor hosting you and your companion this evening, Lord Montag. If you have need of anything, please do not hesitate to ask.”
A lump formed in my throat and I struggled to swallow it down. Why was it I wanted to reach for him as he clasped his hands behind his back and looked away?
“If it is not too much trouble,” Gerald started carefully, lowering his voice, “I would appreciate very much a private place for Mademoiselle Valois to…attend to my needs.”
Lord Azad’s nostrils flared, the gold in his eyes flashing. But Gerald did not seem to notice, or perhaps he misinterpreted it, for he only grinned conspiratorially at Jules. Lilith, however, leaned back, attempting to catch myeye. I fixed my gaze resolutely on the floor, the warmth from only moments ago winking out and leaving ice in its wake.
“There are plenty of rooms available for your needs,” Lord Azad answered, his voice as cold as I felt. “Madame Searah or my man Bernard will be happy to escort you.”
I looked up in time to see him gesturing to Lilith with an open palm and moving past us onto the dance floor. My friend hastened to follow, slipping her hand over my elbow with a soft squeeze before she fell into step with the ancient immortal. Before I could so much as watch Lord Azad dance—and something told me he would be a beautiful dancer—Gerald tugged me along in Jules’ wake toward a set of double doors on the opposite end of the ballroom.
As we settled into the opulent parlor outfitted with a plush velvet couch and roaring hearth, my mind wandered. I barely heard Gerald’s excited chatter as he guided me to sit, brushing back the hair from my throat.
“Perhaps I may call on him now,” he mused, settling beside me. “Do you think Lord Azad would be interested in joining a hunt?”
But for all he cared for my answer he could have been asking the chalice of wine on the table beside us. I did not answer, but I struggled to imagine Lord Azad mounting a horse and galloping through the wood before I remembered that vampires hunted in a very different way to humans.
Gerald’s hands wrapped around my waist and he all but tugged me onto his lap, pressing his lips to the artery that called to him. I could not find it in me to give him the quiet smile, to wrap my arms around his shoulders and guide him toward my throat. Instead, I could only think of what Lord Azad would look like prowling through the forest.
How it would feel to know he was the predator and I his prey.
Teeth pierced my throat and a low moan slipped throughmy lips. In my mind it was not Gerald, but the lord of the house. Citrine eyes flashing in the dark. Black hair flying behind him as he ran. A thrill fluttered through my belly and heat pulsed through my core. His body pinning mine to the forest floor, a snarl in my ears so low only I could hear.
“You’re mine,” he would say before he bit, before he fucked, before he claimed.
