Chapter Seventeen
Raphael
Raphael turned the envelope over in his hands.
The faint scent of sea salt clung to the wax seal.
Earlier this evening, a messenger had delivered it to him with an attention-grabbing display, beseeching him to personally attend the southern kingdom’s annual festival, painting a lovely picture of dances and musical performances and countless other extravagances.
But inside the supposed invitation the messenger had turned over?
The southern king hadn’t written a word about the festival.
It was poor timing, especially with Amalthea gone north. Her counsel would’ve been invaluable. Normally, the oracle was much more careful in her planning, but there was no denying she’d been distracted.
He couldn’t exactly cast any stones. He, too, was distracted. This fledgling business… The goblet next to him was drained of blood. It tasted as rotten as the rest, but he was used to it by now. It would help him leash the monstrous hunger inside him, even if it wasn’t the blood he truly craved.
His attention turned to the door again. Samara had avoided him since the kiss several days ago, refusing training, only attending court where he was otherwise engaged and sitting as far away as the fledgling bond allowed.
He hated that she had moved so far away from him. Hated that she even wanted distance from him. A few hundred steps, yes, would take seconds to cross for him if he needed to.
But there were a lot of ways people could die in those seconds. Especially since she guarded against their mental bond, even if he was a hypocrite to complain. The sight of her in that red dress, stained darker by blood, haunted him. It kept him up past dawn most days. So much blood…
Well, if all went to plan, they’d be spending time in very close quarters.
Despite his centuries alive, he wasn’t made of infinite patience.
“Do you intend to stand there until the dawn drops you from your feet so I have to carry you, or will you open the damn door and enter of your own volition?”
His voice rang through the door, and after a moment of hesitation, the handle turned.
Samara stood at his doorway now. She wore a dark orange dress that hung off her frame, the neckline a low square that exposed her throat completely.
Her white hair was pulled back into a braid, not a single strand falling forward.
Not like how she’d kept it loose as a human.
Like she didn’t want to see even a strand in her periphery.
He forced himself to remain seated behind his desk. Her skin was brighter, eyes clearer than when she’d sparred with him. His blood had done that. The thought pleased him, but the knowledge she was still bordering on starving chased away any satisfaction.
He was never quite sure what to expect from his little viper. Tonight, her shoulders were squared back, chin lifted.
Intent on pretending the kiss two days ago had never happened? As if he could forget even a moment of when her body had pressed to him. The vicious way she’d wanted him, even if she seemed determined to ignore her own feelings.
“You called, Raphael?” She waited a beat, but he was too busy enjoying the sound of his name on her tongue. “What do you want from me?”
He rose from behind his desk. “Oh, I don’t think you’re ready to hear that.” He took a step closer, letting his expression tell her everything he was thinking. “Not yet, anyway.”
Her lips parted slightly, aghast, stiff ice behind her eyes melting as the innuendo reached her. He hid a grin, enjoying her reaction. Especially the way she tried to recover, squaring herself like they were in the arena. “Tell me what you want or I’m leaving.”
For all his resolve to stay away, there were only a few paces between them. Like a moth to her flame, he always wound up circling her.
“When the sun next sets, we will leave for Limanos, the southern kingdom’s capital.”
“Tomorrow?” She pulled at her lip, the barest point of a fang peeking out. Adorable. She’d have stabbed him if he said that, though. “That’s not much notice.”
He arched a brow. “Did you have other plans?” Besides avoiding me?
She frowned. “Not precisely. I just… didn’t expect we’d be going anywhere. Together.”
“Unless the bond’s condition suddenly changed while you spent the past few days avoiding me, there’s not much of a choice.
” Perhaps he wasn’t as good at hiding his annoyance as he’d hoped.
The bond was the only reason he would have her leave the safety of Damerel, customs be damned.
Yes, technically, as his fledgling—and former Chosen—there would be expectations about her future role in his court.
Like presenting her to society on a diplomatic mission like this.
“You know it hasn’t,” she ground out. “How much longer will this bond keep me captive?”
“Captive?” He knew better than to tell a woman she was being dramatic, so he let the single word do the talking. Okay, yes, she couldn’t come and go as she pleased. But all she had to do was hint at what she might like, and he would drop everything to provide it. There were surely worse fates.
“How long, Raphael? You said weeks before. It’s been over two months since the eclipse.”
“What I told you is it could vary. Weeks was only a guess. The bond makes certain I’m nearby to keep you safe, at least until you’ve settled as a vampire.” Though he’d seldom heard of a fledgling bond as tight as this one. It hadn’t given an inch.
He was a selfish bastard—he wanted her close. But he also wanted Samara to be happy and to choose to stay close. Those were not the same thing.
“I’m trying, Raphael. I’m not fighting this new nature as much as I was. But I have to break this bond.” She sucked in a breath, eyes suddenly widening.
His little viper, so desperate to get away. It just made him step closer.
“You’re very focused on what you have to do instead of what you want to do.”
“Semantics. I want to break this bond,” she retorted.
A world of truth could be buried in semantics. “And is that all you want?” He knew it wasn’t. Beast’s blood, it frustrated him to no end that she refused to even consider what she might truly want.
But he could show her. He could teach her what it was to want, and just how good it could be to have those wants satisfied instead of burying them as phantoms that haunted.
And that would make it all the sweeter.
He stepped even closer. Her scent was a sweet taunt of everything he himself wanted. “You have centuries at your disposal, continents available to you to explore, music halls you could dance in until dawn every night. You can want more, Samara, because you can have it.”
Because he would give it all to her.
She wavered. Could she even fathom what lengths he would go to if he thought it would please her? “Then what do you want, little viper? Do you want me to lay jewels at your feet, books, inventions? Or perhaps what you want most is me.”
Her breath caught. Damn subtlety. Seeing her stand there, trying to act unaffected, was exquisite torture. “I don’t—no.”
“No to which part?” he asked innocently. “The jewels? I can understand, they can be rather trite. Or are you saying you don’t love the thought of me kneeling in front of you, willing to give you anything you want?”
She swallowed sharply, and he couldn’t look away from the small bob of her throat. “Don’t toy with me.”
He held in a dark laugh. He was completely serious. “Have I done anything to give you the impression I was toying with you?”
Indecision warred across her face. “Those things aren’t for me.”
What she meant was that he wasn’t for her. A point he firmly disagreed with. “They could be.” He resisted the urge to pull a strand of her hair loose, to curl it around his finger. To tilt her neck to the side and bite.
They were close now. She could back up, could run from the room, but she just stared him down.
“No matter how you work to suppress your feelings, you can’t hide them.
Not from me. I know you want me—even now, I can scent it.
” His lids slid half closed as he inhaled, tasting the truth of his words.
She was so sweet on his tongue, her body unable to lie about what being that close did to her.
He was equally affected, his cock straining tight in his breeches.
Her eyes darted away. “Perhaps what you scent is just my body’s natural reaction to being in proximity to a… a reasonably attractive male. Not you particularly.”
Perhaps. His viper had learned how to twist her words exceptionally well as a fledgling, even if she struggled with all other aspects. If she ever had this reaction to another male, Raphael would likely kill him. Not out of insecurity, because being so jealous was unbecoming. Just on principle.
But he decided against telling her that now. He couldn’t pass up the chance to keep teasing her.
“Reasonably attractive. Damned with faint praise, but I’ll accept it.”
“It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”
He didn’t doubt it, but he took it as one all the same. He knew how he looked, knew his appeal, but there was something thrilling about hearing even the faintest admission from her lips.
“I don’t need any flattery from you, viper. The way you kiss me like you’ll die without it, clawing at my skin, grinding against me like you want everything I could give you—that’s plenty for my ego.”
“That will never happen again.”
“It’s impressive you believe that.” She must have, to have been able to get the words out. Raphael wouldn’t have been able to say them. He held her gaze steady, abandoning the teasing note in his voice. “What are you so afraid of?”
He wanted her to confide in him, to trust both him and her feelings for him.
But instead she took a long step back, breaking eye contact. “Tomorrow at dusk, then.”
She turned on her heel without waiting for his acknowledgment. He followed her to the door and stayed next to it even once shut, counting her footsteps as she retraced her path down the hall.
The vampire clenched his hand into a fist at his side.
But he didn’t follow her.