The joy of a moment ago shriveled in my chest and I dropped my attention to my plate and the half-eaten meal. “I was tutored in the language, my lord, as well as in Flouris.”
The vampire beside Lord Azad engaged him in conversation and I was relieved when Lord Auguste did not question me further about my education and instead asked after Jules. For the rest of the dinner I focused on Gerald, whose stiffness eventually softened under my attention. And though I tried not to look at Lord Azad, the few times I gave in to the desire, it was to find his eyes on me. The moments were brief, but they sparked through my chest like a lightning strike.
Caution. That was what I must have, and I resolved not to look at him for the rest of the night.
We settledinto the same parlor after dinner, my fellow humans a bit more relaxed from the wine—I’d abstained, save for the small sips I had taken with my meal. As I settled beside Gerald on the couch, the formalities of the beginning of the night fell away. From the corner of my eye, I observed Lady Tirel sitting in a nearby armchair while her male companion knelt before her.
“Do you mind, Eamon?” she asked in her wind chime voice, white-blonde curls dragging over her shoulder as she turned toward the lord of the house.
He looked between the two, waiting for the male to nod. “Not at all.”
The female vampire stroked her human companion’s face lovingly before drawing him closer, bending to press her teeth to his neck. Around us, the other couples followed suit. A ridiculous pang twisted through my stomach as I wondered if Lord Azad would feed, but he only settled himself beside the fire, speaking softly to Lord Auguste, who also did not partake.
“Adrienne,” Gerald breathed, fingertips turning my face to his.
His pupils were blown black. Only a thin ring of brown remained. I smiled at him in a practiced way, choosing to focus on the diamond in his cravat rather than his eyes. Yet while I nodded at Gerald and allowed him to pull me closer, I could not help but remind myself again what a danger it was to forget why I was here.
Around us, moans slipped through the room, mingling with the harp played by one of Lord Azad’s staff. A vampire’s bite could be many things, from agony to pleasure or merely a mild pressure. Judging from the way the male before Lady Tirel pressed his hips against her skirts in a rhythmic fashion and how Charlotte was settled in Lady Garnier’s lap with one of the lady’s hands vanishing beneath Charlotte’s skirts, it was clear what manner of bites were popular tonight.
I took a deep breath, preparing myself as I always did. It was a skill I’d learned quickly: to push away the influence of the bite. Pleasure became merely a soft contentment, like a hum against my skin rather than the consuming ecstasy intended. Gerald was not actively trying to give me pleasure from the bite, I knew, but his own tended to spill over instinctually into the compulsion.
His lips pressed against the hollow of my throat, teeth grazing across the sensitive skin before pausing above myartery. I fixed my attention to the candelabra atop the mantel as his teeth found their mark and the first rush of blood hit his tongue. He groaned, drawing me closer, and I kept my expression blank as I watched the flames flicker on the candles.
The feeling was there, pushing against the quiet place in my mind I kept to myself, but I ignored the compulsion Gerald sent through the bite. I counted my breaths as he drank, allowing his arms to wrap around my waist. When he shifted me closer, my eyes dropped, and a pulse throbbed in my belly.
Lord Azad observed us, an ankle crossed over his knee, chin resting on his fist. Tension rolled off him in waves, but there was a pulsing heat in his gaze as he watched Gerald drink. His index finger rubbed against his bottom lip and I wondered if he was imagining himself in Lord Montag’s place. If he was thinking of how I might taste, how I would feel in his arms.
A soft moan slid through my lips and Lord Azad stiffened further. I’d all but forgotten Gerald, even as he clutched me tighter, hips tilting toward mine. No, I could only stare at Lord Azad who shifted, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. He clasped his hands in front of him. Large hands. Hands that could wrap easily around my waist, around my throat.
My cunt throbbed and I gasped, the wall I’d so carefully built cracking beneath the weight of his stare.
A low growl slithered through the room. No one else heard it, save Lord Auguste, who turned to his uncle with a surprised expression. Gerald drank deeper and I scrambled to build back my defenses, even as my clit pulsed and I squeezed my thighs together. No, no, this could not happen—not here, not with this male at my throat.
A soft touch caressed my face, as if a hand cradled mycheek, but no one stood before me. The invisible hand curled around my jaw, and a soft rumble echoed in my mind.
Let me in.
I blinked at Lord Azad. It was his voice, though his lips had not moved. I wanted to fight it, to rebuild the wall, regardless of its futility. But a familiar pressure was coiling tight, even as fear skittered down my spine.
Let me in and I’ll take it all away.
My whimper was soft, but I nodded, relaxing the hold I had on my mind. In an instant the hand vanished and with it the pleasure. The wall was back in place and I was freed from the compulsion of Gerald’s bite. I trembled, but Lord Azad’s lips moved ever so slightly, his shush quiet and only for me.
You’re safe now.
Chapter Six
Ihad only meant to watch to ensure he did not take too much.
Now shame burned bright in my chest like a fire waiting to turn into an inferno. Mademoiselle Valois’ mind was powerful, her magic stronger than even she realized. The fact she was able to stand against the bite compulsion was impressive. I slipped from her mind before I could do any more damage, and yet I found I could not look away.
Her face did not crumple with anger. No, her response was worse: her beautiful features smoothed into the impassive mask she’d worn for most of dinner. After another long moment, her eyes slid back to the candelabra on the mantel. Lord Montag continued to feast, though he would need to stop soon.
“She is beautiful,” Mateo commented quietly.
I gave a hum of acknowledgment, observing each breath the vampire took as he drank from her.
“You covet her,” Mateo continued.
