Chapter 13 Vivi
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
VIVI
My head is spinning.
However, despite the conversation, all I can really focus on is the grilled cheese melt a few feet away from me. I’m starving. I didn’t realize that until the scent hit me, but now it’s all I can think about.
“Unless you plan to breed her first?” Marius asks, his words momentarily returning my attention to him. “I mean, that’s one way to guarantee her acceptance among our kind. They can’t deny a woman impregnated with a royal heir, yeah?”
“Stop speaking, Marius,” Ciprian says.
“You’re going to breed me?” I blurt out, feeling even dizzier now.
Too much information has been exchanged. Too many demands made. Too much insanity.
In all my wildest dreams of coming here, of finding him, never could I have imagined everything that’s transpired. And in such a short amount of time, too.
“Leave, Marius.” The demand echoes through the room, causing me to want to shrink back against the chair.
It’s all too much.
I’m exhausted. I’m hungry. I’m wrecked.
And now he wants to breed me?
He’s a one-thousand-year-old virgin Strigoi. A monster who has waited for an ideal mate. A male… who clearly desires me when he’s apparently never desired another.
It’s intimidating. Overwhelming. Intoxicating.
But impregnating me?
I’m in no way ready for that, I think. God, I don’t even know if he can fit inside me. He barely fit in my mouth!
I bury my head in my knees, trying desperately to control my raging emotions. This isn’t me at all. I never respond this way.
I’m the human who sought out a creature of the night. The woman who traveled for half a day on a plane to reach a foreign country and hunt down a vampire.
And now I’m curled in on myself like a broken doll.
All because of the intense madness swimming around me.
The way Ciprian used me in the shower… hurt my confidence. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t keep up with him? Or it was just too much sensation? I’m not sure. But it infuriated me afterward. Then he started talking, telling me how he’s never been with anyone before, and I… I felt something.
Something frightening.
Something immense.
Something… life-changing.
I went from feeling used to feeling special. Because this monster chose me. After over a thousand years of life, he decided I was worthy of his lust.
Which is asinine.
I shouldn’t feel special because a millennium-old virgin decided he wanted me.
Yet, I couldn’t stop the flutters from igniting in my belly or the pitter-patter of my heart.
He made me feel cherished in an utterly bizarre way. Like I may be someone worthy of more.
And now his familiar… or whatever Marius is to him… is talking about Ciprian breeding me.
The notion should mortify me. It sort of does, I guess, but not in the right way. Because my mortification is born from the realization that I wouldn’t mind being fucked by Ciprian Negru.
In fact, just the concept of it sends cascades of warmth through my veins.
I’ve lost my mind.
Or, more likely, I’m under some sort of enchantment. A spell woven by the Strigoi King. A mating incantation, perhaps?
“Viviana.” Ciprian’s voice is deep, hypnotic, and powerful. It’s also extremely close, which has me blinking in confusion.
He’s kneeling in front of me, his hands on my face.
How long has he been like this? I wonder, searching his stoic expression. How long has he been saying my name?
“A few minutes,” he replies, clearly still able to read my mind.
Is it permanent? I swallow. Is this mental connection… a forever kind of thing?
“Yes, and it’ll only deepen if we finalize our mating,” he tells me, his thumb drawing along my lower lip. “You need to eat, regina mea.”
I blink again, those two foreign words repeating in my head. What does that mean?
“My queen.” He leans in to brush a kiss against my mouth. “Here.” He moves, then hands me a plate with the grilled cheese on it. “The soup is still too hot. When it’s ready, I’ll feed it to you.”
An image of him using his tail pops into my head, making me shiver. In an effort to ignore the mental depiction, I pick up the sandwich and shove it into my mouth.
However, he must have overheard my thoughts. Or… or maybe he saw it somehow? Because the appendage in question creeps up my leg as he softly questions, “You wish to burn my tail?”
I choke on the cheese and bread, causing him to grab my water and push it toward me. I take it from him and wince as I force the food down my throat.
He observes, his black irises flickering with crimson flares. But his lips are curled down in a frown, something I’ve gathered isn’t typical for him. Just like his smiles.
This male seems to be quite unfamiliar with emotions.
I’m not sure if it’s my connection to his mind telling me that, or instincts, or something else entirely. And I’m too exhausted to try to determine the source of my knowledge. I just know that he’s experiencing a lot of firsts right now.
Including his feelings toward me.
“Is your desire born of a need to punish me?” he goes on.
And if I were still eating, I would be choking again.
“Because my tail is quite sensitive. Dipping it into the soup would be… uncomfortable. But if it’s your wish—”
I press my finger to his lips, needing him to stop. “My mind isn’t a reliable narrator right now, Your Highness.”
His brow furrows even more.
“What I mean is, my thoughts are compromised. I’m… I’m not feeling like myself. A lot has happened, and I’m struggling to comprehend it all. Which means my brain is a little frazzled and therefore… unreliable. So if you overhear something, don’t overthink it. I’m just processing. Sort of.”
Well, that was a mouthful of gibberish.
But his forehead is less crinkled now, so he seems to somewhat understand what I’ve said.
Just to ensure we’re on the same page, I add, “So, no, I don’t want to burn your tail.
When you said you were going to feed me, I thought of how you fed me earlier.
” My cheeks heat with the words, and I clear my throat.
“I just… I just want a spoon. Please. Food. Eat. You know? Anyway.” I shake my head, aware that I sound like a lunatic. “Ignore me.”
“No.”
I startle. “What?”
“I refuse to ignore you.” He nods at my plate. “Now eat.”
“It’s…” I trail off, deciding that explaining what I meant by ignore me isn’t worth the energy. I’ll just… do what he demanded and enjoy my grilled cheese.
Because it’s really good. Like, easily the best one I’ve ever tasted. Whatever French cheeses his chef used are amazing.
When I’m about halfway done, a spoon appears, and I realize that Ciprian is attempting to feed me the soup. “It’s an appropriate temperature now.”
I almost make a joke to ask if he tested it with his tail, but I refrain and simply open my mouth instead.
His gaze locks on my lips as he feeds me, his cheekbones seeming to become more pronounced from him clenching his jaw.
I swallow, which appears to make it worse, because his eyes narrow.
However, he brings another bite up for me to consume. So I do. And we continue the dance for several minutes before finally, I grab his wrist and say, “The way you’re looking at me is starting to make me feel like food.”
“You are food,” he murmurs. “For me.”
I shiver. “Does that mean you plan to bite me?”
“Many times, yes. For eternity, I hope.” He pushes forward with the spoon, slipping it between my lips and watching as I swallow. “But you will give me a safe word first, something to say if I take too much or push too far. I do not wish to upset you again.”
“You didn’t…” I trail off.
I was about to say he didn’t upset me, which isn’t true. He infuriated me.
However, his explanations have helped me understand why he pushed me the way he did. And he does seem to be trying to talk to me now instead of merely using me for pleasure.
That doesn’t mean I feel safe, though.
Which is… strangely arousing. I shouldn’t like the way he’s staring at me right now—like I’m prey—but I do.
And since he can hear my thoughts, he knows it, too.
“Why can’t I read your mind?” I blurt out, wishing I knew what he was thinking right now. “I only hear you when you talk in my head.”
He straightens—and I realize he’s still kneeling in front of me, yet he’s so big that we’re eye level—and sets the bowl down on the table. “When we’re fully mated, you will have unfettered access to my every thought.”
“When?” I echo.
“When,” he repeats sternly. “You just need to pass the trials. Then you can be mine.”
“Trials?” I feel like we’re just reiterating words back and forth. But this one feels like a very important one to clarify. “What trials?”
“There are certain expectations of a Strigoi King’s mate, expectations that my kind will require you to meet.” He brushes his knuckles along my cheek. “Fearlessness is one of them. A willingness to breed is another. And loyalty is paramount.”
With those profound statements, he stands and turns toward the door just as someone knocks.
“Enter,” he calls.
A shorter man with silver-black hair walks in holding a tray. “My lord,” he greets. “I ended up making the hazelnut creamer from scratch, as it was faster than driving into town. If our guest dislikes it, I will go shopping.”
Ciprian looks at me. “Is this acceptable to you, Ms. Dalca?”
My lashes flutter. “That he attempted to make hazelnut cream… from scratch?” I ask slowly.
“No. If I had known he would go through all that trouble, I would have just asked for some milk and sugar.” I look at the elderly male.
“Please don’t feel the need to do something that extravagant for me.
I don’t want to cause issues for the kitchen. ”
The older man smiles, a pair of dimples appearing on his cheeks.
He’s really quite handsome for his age.
I imagine thirty or forty years ago, he acquired a lot of feminine attention.
Masculine attention, too, Ciprian says flatly into my mind.
Radu prefers men. He faces me fully, his dark eyes grabbing and holding mine.
I also happen to care for him a great deal.
So if you could stop thinking about his attractiveness, that would be kind, as I do not fancy the notion of killing him.
And yet, my inner beast is currently demanding his slaughter.
I blink, startled. Sorry. I’m not sexually attracted to him, King Negru. Just… noting that he’s attractive.
The distinction does not appeal to my beast.
Then remind your beast that I sucked your cock several times today. So he owes me some grace, I snap back at him.
Ciprian arches a brow. You’re making me think about dessert, regina mea.
How nice for you. I’ll be enjoying my coffee. I finally look at the elderly man again—the one I now know is Radu—and smile. “Thank you for bringing this up for me and for making the cream. I’m sure it’s divine.”
I swear I hear Ciprian growl in my head.
“Do you mind setting it on the table over there?” I ask, gesturing with my chin toward a small dining table near the bar area. It seems like a safer choice than asking him to set it down next to the simmering Strigoi King.
“Of course, my lady,” he murmurs, walking over to where the two chairs are tucked into a tall wooden table. “Would either of you care for anything else?”
“No,” Ciprian says before I can reply. “We’re fine.”
“Thank you, Radu,” I add, mostly to be polite. And also to piss off Ciprian a little bit more. If you hurt this nice man, I will never suck your cock again, I tell my Strigoi King. I’ll bite you instead.
His wings whoosh as he spins toward me. Biting is foreplay to a Strigoi, regina mea.
Not the way I intend it, I promise him, looking up to meet his gaze. Now be nice and stop growling in my head.
He narrows his eyes as the door closes to his suite. “You have much to learn about a Strigoi’s possessive instincts.”
“It seems I have a lot to learn in general,” I counter, finally feeling more like myself. “Now I’m going to go pour myself a cup of coffee, and then you’re going to tell me more about the trials.”
“Or I’ll simply bend you over the table and fuck you instead,” he says.
I give him the sweetest smile I can muster and reply, “If you do that in my current mood, I’ll refuse to come for you.
” I step into his space and press my palm to his chest. “And trust me, Ciprian, you want me to climax while your cock is deep inside me. It’ll give you the best pleasure of your life. Just ask your tail.”
With that, I push him a step backward, then walk around him to go grab a cup of coffee.
The growls in my head intensify.
Which causes my heart to race in response.
I’m playing with fire. I know I am. But this Strigoi has me all messed up in the head. I may as well return the favor.