“Just a girl I knew. We worked together in Annerough.” I decide to keep to myself that we were roommates, or even tentative friends. “She has the same brand of playful banter as you, and probably the same personality.”
“Ooooh, she sounds merry. Should I kidnap her for you?” he asks with exaggerated courtesy, as if he’s talking about a gift, and not a goddamn abduction.
“Gods no, Blaise! You’re utter shit at kidnapping people! Please promise me you’ll put your days away for good! Who knows who you’d wrongly bring here again?!” I snicker, only half appalled by his antics.
“Go figure; it takes only one case of mistaken identity for everybody to label you forever as incompetent,” he mutters to himself, making me giggle. The sound surprises me.
“You’re not that bad, Blaise,” I sheepishly admit. “Not for a fucking vampire, that is.”
“Uh, is kitty warming up to me? Is that what is happening here?”
I shrug noncommittally. He is not the worst of them by far. If I have to interact with anyone while I’m trapped here, might as well be easygoing Blaise, rather than his peevish King.
“Must you push his buttons every Godsdamn time?” Blaise changes the topic, as if sensing my wayward thoughts. “As entertaining as it is to watch, kitty, it will do us all a favor if you rein in your temper a bit. Don’t do it on my account, though. I adore seeing you get your panties in a twist. Makes me want totake them off of you completely.” His voice drops to a sensual whisper.
“It’s not my fault he is always such a tight-up asshole!” I reply begrudgingly, ignoring his innuendo.
“Oh, darling, you should know by now that contempt often masks other incendiary emotions,” Blaise offers with a knowing wink, just as we reach for my bedroom door. He bows and leaves me alone in the hallway.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
CHAPTER 11
Killian
Lastnight’sencounterwithAimee was another reverberant fiasco. I’m trying my damnedest to break through to her, get her to take a second to listen to what I have to say, and maybe realize I am—we are—not as bad as she thinks. But the insufferable Fae female is as strong-headed as a mule, and her tongue is sharp and wicked in such ways that it makes me want to bash my head against the wall, repeatedly, but it also makes my dick stand to attention painfully.
My attraction to her is not only physical, although she possesses that kind of athletic, yet sinfully curvaceous body that simply cannot go unnoticed. And I noticed it from the get-go, especially in those bejeweled skimpy clothes she was wearing. Her wide, lush hips begging to be grabbed…Those strong, long legs I am already imagining clinging to my waist as I thrustinside of her …The full, plump breasts that seem to want to escape any piece of clothing she cages them in…
No, my attraction goes beyond that sacrilegious body, or even that utterly beautiful face. Every time she opens her mouth only to curse the very ground I walk on, my cold blood sizzles in my veins. All I can think about is both worshipping and punishing her at the same time. Her fierceness and bravery hit me deep in my gut, and I want to lower her guard, not only to uncover her sister’s hiding place, but to ravish her completely. I’m baffled by the intensity of this maelstrom of yearning that hit me from no-fucking-where. I’m not one to obsess over a female so easily, yet here I am, plagued by thoughts of her.
My shadows want her just as much, and I feel they’re calling even now, how they desire to wrap themselves around her silky skin, caressing, tormenting, pleasuring her.
I frown, remembering how she tried to punch me in her bedroom, and how outright terrified she was when I held her down on the bed. It was a knee-jerk reaction on my part, only meant to immobilize her long enough that she calmed down. Her utterly petrified response gutted me.
Something must have happened to her in the past, something debilitating enough that it would trigger such a reaction. If I find out who scarred her in such a way, I will make it my sole purpose to make them wish they were never born. I very well may be the vengeful villain that the Faes paint me to be since the dawn of time.
I pace my bedroom, waiting to hear from Nella. She went earlier to bear another message to my latest fixation. I’m yet again inviting her to dine with me, and this time there is no chance in hell I will accept another refusal. I do not want to barge into her chamber again and have another confrontation that would frustrate me and my raging erection further, but if I have to, I will.
Time is not on my side. It never feels like it is, as of late. My kingdom’s fate hangs in the balance, and every day that passes without a proper plan to retrieve Aurora and convince her to aid us is another day closer to facing utter destruction.
Last night when Aimee intruded on us during feeding, we had just gotten back from hindering an attack on Dithrau. It took us several days to defend the city against the enemy, and we lost countless vampires, either killed in battle, or captured and dragged back far North.
Victory tastes sour in my mouth, knowing that each day, and with each vampire loss we endure, our adversaries only consolidate their power. This time we were able to hold our ground in Dithrau and push the hordes away, but what will happen next time? Because there will be a next time, and it might happen sooner than we are prepared for.
I feel caught in this endless cycle of defense, retreat, scheme, defend again, without actually making any lasting impact. Meanwhile, the enemy’s foothold in Wrahta only deepens, and without the Foretold One we’re all just racing against the impending doom.
I clench my teeth for what seems to be the millionth time today, my gums screaming in protest. If they overpower us in Dithrau, if they cross the mountains and reach the capital…I shudder at that thought. No! I would rather die on the battlefield, taking all of them with me, than allow that sickness to spread to the rest of my kingdom, and further into the world.
A sharp knock resounds from the door, and Blaise strolls inside without waiting for my answer. I roll my eyes at his actions. He’s not one to care about etiquette, or even common decency, most of the time. Blaise is the type of vampire who does what he damn well pleases, when he damn well pleases, and he will laugh in your face if you point out his lack of decorum. He abides only by his own set of rules, but he is too great of awarrior, and my most loyal brother, for me to truly care about his lack of remorse on such menial matters.
“I see you’re wearing yourfancyblack shirt. Any occasion in particular?”
Blaise takes a seat in the armchair perched by the open windows, cocking a brow my way. The frigid night air is blowing in the room, but it doesn’t bother us vampires in the least. It’s one perk of being what we are.
“All my shirts are black, Blaise. Don’t fuck around and tell me what you want!” I growl in response. I don’t have the patience right now for his shenanigans.
“So testy, brother.” He sighs in mock resignation. “You need a good lay, and I know an equally sexually frustrated Fae running amok around the castle.”
