Chapter 25 #2
“Marilyn,” Sebastian drawls as he steps right into my space, smelling like sin and expensive cologne. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Sebastian,” I greet, giving him a shy smile. “How are you?”
“Better now.” His teeth sink into the cushion of his lower lip as he rakes his gaze over me, lingering on my bare shoulders and the swell of my breasts. “You look… edible.”
“Uh, thanks,” I breathe, scanning the crowd for any sign of James.
Sebastian leans in closer, breath tinged with copper and gin. “Any chance you’ve changed those donor preferences?”
A laugh bursts out of me, half nerves, half champagne. “Wow, straight to the point.”
He shrugs, a smirk quirking his lips.
“I’m actually not… available anymore. Through the agency,” I say, eyes flickering over the crowd once again. Still no James. “I’ve signed an exclusive donor agreement.”
“Then why are you all alone?” Sebastian purrs, stepping in even closer and trailing the backs of his knuckles down my arm. “Your master should know better than to let his pet wander around off-leash.”
“Excuse me?” I scoff, jolting back with a scowl.
His expression darkens, something ugly flickering in his eyes moments before his hand snaps out and closes around my wrist. “Just a little taste to refresh my memory,” he drawls, fangs extending as he yanks me in closer.
Fear spikes, but before I can even blink, there’s a shift in the air. The crowd around us seems to ripple with a collective inhale, and then…
James.
He’s suddenly looming directly behind Sebastian, eyes gone nearly black with rage.
He moves so fast I can barely register it, hands clamping onto Sebastian’s jaw.
The sound that follows is obscene– a wet, splintering crack as he wrenches Sebastian’s head to the side.
For a heartbeat, it feels like time freezes.
Then he rips Sebastian’s head clean from his body, tearing it off with a single, savage motion.
Blood erupts in a geyser, splashing over my face, my dress, the marble floor. I don’t even register the warm, wet sensation until I taste iron on my lips.
Sebastian’s body crumples at my feet, his severed head rolling away to rest under a nearby table. The entire ballroom goes silent.
James stands over the corpse, his suit ruined, his hands dripping red. His piercing blue eyes lock with mine as he steps over Sebastian’s twitching body, gripping onto my elbow.
I don’t even fight him. I can’t. My brain is a whiteout, every thought drowned beneath the shriek of my own pulse. James pulls me through the stunned crowd, leaving bloody footprints in his wake. I stumble along, not daring to look back at the carnage.
Somewhere behind us, the party starts up again with music, chatter, and laughter. As if witnessing a brutal decapitation was merely part of the evening’s entertainment.
James leads me outside, the cold air hitting my wet skin like a slap. I stumble in my heels as he guides me down the steps and into the waiting limo, shoving me inside first before sliding in after me. The door slams shut behind him, sealing us in silence.
The partition is down, but the driver pretends not to notice the blood covering his passengers.
Must not be the first time he’s driven James home wearing the evidence of his wrath.
The engine purrs as the car pulls away from the curb, and for what feels like a long time, we just sit there in silence.
It’s not the first time I’ve witnessed a murder. I was there when my parents died, but according to my social workers, I’ve repressed the memory. There’s only one thing I recall from that night: blood. So much blood.
Maybe that’s why I’m equal parts fascinated and horrified by the sight of it. It scratches at the edges of memories, and it’s too difficult to untangle the good ones from the bad since they’re all so vague.
I can’t remember ever being covered in it like this, though.
My dress, once iridescent and perfect, is soaked through. The sticky damp on my skin is rapidly drying to a brownish crust, and I smell like old pennies.
James seems unbothered by the blood streaking his skin, his eyes on the window as the city gives way to the dark. His jaw is set, a muscle in it twitching every few seconds, but he’s otherwise calm– so calm it makes me want to scream.
I don’t. Not yet. I just stare straight ahead, eyes glazing over.
I think I’m in shock.
I want to ask why. I want to ask how he can do something so monstrous and then just sit there like it was nothing at all. But my mouth won’t open, the words won’t come, so I let the silence eat me until I’m sure it’s the only thing left.
Ten minutes into the drive, I finally find my voice, though it comes out high-pitched and trembling.
“You killed him.”
James doesn’t turn, his blank expression still in place. “I did.”
“Why?” I whisper, barely audible over the purr of the engine.
The city slides by in a blur of cold light as he slowly turns to face me, and I almost wish he hadn’t. His eyes pin me with their intensity, still holding the echo of violence. “Because he’s tasted you.”
“That’s not–” I choke on the words, pulse battering against my ribs. “That’s insane. You’re insane.”
“That’s vampire society, darling,” he replies blandly, still infuriatingly calm. “You’re mine. Anyone who challenges that dies.”
I bark a wild, desperate laugh. “Is that supposed to be romantic?”
He shrugs. “It’s just the way our world works.”
I gape at him, hands trembling in my lap. “You just… you murdered someone, James,” I croak. “In front of hundreds of people.”
“Sebastian Avalon knew exactly who you belonged to,” he states flatly. “He made his choice.”
I press myself into the corner of the seat, as far from him as I can get. “You’re a monster,” I whisper, the words hanging between us like a curse.
His head cocks, a strange sort of intrigue flickering in his eyes. “Are you afraid of me, mea dulcis?”
I almost say no, but that’d be a lie. I’m terrified. Of what he is, of what he’s done, and of the way my heart still stutters when he looks at me like that. “Yes,” I say, voice barely more than a breath. “I’m afraid of you.”
He considers, tracing a finger over the curve of his upper lip. “Good.”
The rest of the ride is such a blur that I don’t even realize we’ve reached the estate until the driver flicks on the interior lights. I have to force my body to move, every muscle in my legs locked tight with adrenaline.
James steps out first, then holds the door for me, offering his hand.
I ignore it despite how wobbly my knees are.
The night air is freezing, the kind of cold that cuts straight to the bone.
The car pulls away, and we make it halfway to the front door before James suddenly stops, turning to glance back at me over his shoulder.
“If you’re afraid,” he murmurs, “then run.”
The words don’t register at first. I stare at him, waiting for the rest, but nothing comes. He just stands there still as a statue, eyes hollow and expression blank.
“Run, Taylor,” he says again, firmer this time. “If you want to live, run.”
Terror tightens my throat like a noose. I whip around, gathering the hem of my dress in one hand and kicking off my heels. My feet hit the icy ground and the world sharpens to a single point: escape.
I sprint down the front steps and across the lawn, dress bunched in my fists, lungs searing as I suck in cold air.
The estate is huge, but I know the general layout of the grounds by now– the back garden, the frozen fountain, the little thicket of trees that borders the property.
I aim for the trees, hoping the darkness will provide cover.
Behind me, I hear nothing. No footsteps, no breathing. Just my own ragged gasps and the slap of my bare soles against snow-dusted grass.
I make it to the trees, the branches clawing at my arms and hair as I duck and weave, heart pounding so loud it drowns out everything else. I don’t look back. I don’t need to. He could catch me in an instant if he wanted– the only reason I’m still moving is because he’s letting me.
I slow, just for a second, fighting to catch my breath. Adrenaline surges through my veins as I press myself against a tree, listening for any sign of pursuit. All I’m met with is silence.
Then I feel him behind me.
“Keep running, little mortal,” he growls, voice right in my ear. “You’re not ready for me to catch you yet.”
I whip around, but he’s already gone, vanished into the dark. Panic races through me, raw and blinding. I crash through the underbrush, tearing my dress, skin scraping on stray twigs and sharp branches. I don’t care. I just run.
He lets me get further this time, all the way to the fence at the edge of the property. I hit the metal hard, fingers clawing for purchase, but it’s ten feet high and there’s no crossbars to climb.
I double back, ducking low and weaving through the trees. My breath fogs in front of me, skin numb and burning.
I still don’t hear any sign of his pursuit, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t hunting me. It’s equal parts terrifying and exhilarating, my heart thundering against my ribs, ragged breaths sawing from my lungs.
When he catches me, it’s so sudden I don’t even have time to scream.
His arm bands around my waist, yanking me clean off my feet and taking me down to the ground.
We land hard, his body cushioning most of the impact before he flips me underneath him, my chest pressed to the ground and his weight draped over my back.
He leans in, mouth rasping at my ear. “Are you still scared, darling?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. My throat is tight with terror, lungs aching for air, whole body trembling. He just holds me there, patiently waiting until the silence becomes unbearable.
“Yes,” I pant hoarsely. “I’m scared.”
He hums to himself as if that’s the answer he wanted. Then he shifts, rolling me onto my back, pinning my wrists above my head with a single hand. His suit is torn in a few places, the shirt beneath soaked through with blood. He looks like a beautiful nightmare, and I can’t look away.
He brings his free hand to my face, thumb brushing a streak of dried blood from my cheek. “You’re also alive,” he murmurs. “More than you’ve ever been. You’re a slut for danger, aren’t you?”
I buck my hips, squirming in an attempt to get free, but somehow my struggle rapidly devolves into a shameless grind that has me panting with a different kind of need.
James rucks up my ruined dress, the fabric tearing as he bares my legs to the night.
I don’t put up nearly enough resistance when he spreads my legs and shifts my panties aside, exposing me to the frigid air.
“James!” I gasp as he lowers his head between my thighs. The heat of his mouth meets my center, tongue flicking over my clit with brutal precision. The shock of it makes me jolt, but he just pins me by the hips, devouring my pussy relentlessly.
I cry out, fingers sinking into his hair. Not to pull him away, but to tug him even closer. My back arches, body on fire even as my brain still shrieks for escape.
He tongue-fucks me until I’m trembling with need, tears streaking down my temples. He takes me right to the edge– so close it hurts– then suddenly stops, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes.
“You’re not coming tonight unless you’re wrapped around my cock,” he declares, rising to his knees and lowering his zipper.
“Wha–?” I whimper helplessly, pushing up to my elbows.
“Beg for it,” James commands, voice flat and merciless.
Liquid fire sears through my veins. I pin my lower lip between my teeth, locking eyes with him and shaking my head defiantly.
He slaps my thigh, the sting sharp in the cold. “Beg, Taylor. Show me how much you want this. How much you crave being fucked by a monster.”
The pieces finally slot together in my brain with startling clarity.
This was never about escaping him, but about proving how much I don’t want to.
Because despite the fear, the doubt, and the conflicting sway of my moral compass lately, a single truth remains: the man and the monster are one and the same.
I’ve fallen for the man, and I’m about to be devoured by the monster.
“Please,” I whisper, the word slipping past my lips before I can even fully consider what it means to surrender.
Need overrides shame, my gaze dropping as he shoves his pants down and frees his cock, rock hard and leaking at the tip.
I reach out to drag my fingernails across the ladder of his abs, tongue darting out to wet my lips as my eyes flicker back up to meet his. “Please, James.”
His lips curve in the ghost of a smile, something wild sparking in his eyes.
He moves faster than I can register– gripping my thighs, lining up, and thrusting inside with no warning.
I scream as he bottoms out in a single, brutal stroke, his hand covering my mouth to muffle the sound.
I’m so wet it’s obscene, inner walls pulsing around him as he starts pounding into me, each thrust driving me deeper into the frozen ground.
His hand moves to my throat, squeezing just enough to remind me who’s in control.
I don’t feel the cold air, or the snow beneath me, or the roughness of the ground. All I feel is him– owning me, claiming me, branding me on the inside. The way he ruts into me is relentless; every savage, animalistic thrust designed to ruin me in a way I’ve come to crave.
When I’m just about to come, he suddenly stops again, buried deep inside me.
“Say it,” he growls, piercing blue eyes fixed on mine.
From the way he’s looking at me, I know exactly what he wants. And it’s never been truer than it is right now.
“I’m yours,” I choke out.
He growls in satisfaction as he dips his head, fangs gracing my neck. “Good girl.”
He bites down, and the world shatters. Pain, pleasure, terror, relief… it’s all one sensation, overwhelming and absolute. I come harder than I ever have in my life, clenching around him, eyes rolling back.
He drinks deep, then licks the wound closed, the taste of my own fear on his lips when he kisses me. His tongue sweeps against mine, soft and startlingly gentle. Then he pulls back, gazing into my eyes with so much reverence it aches.
When he speaks, his voice is so low and gravelly that it rattles all the way down to my bones.
“Vinculum Sanguinis.”