Chapter 4
Four
T he giggly female vampire sitting on Atlas’s lap ran her nails up and down his chest, whispering promises into his ear about how she swore she wouldn’t use her fangs on his cock, but he was hardly listening.
He was simply going through the motions expected of him.
She was stunning—deep ebony skin, eyes that reminded him of topaz, and sleek black hair that fell in a thick braid over one shoulder.
His fingers tapped a restless rhythm against her slender waist, which she took as her cue to sidle closer.
Every inch she moved sent her velvet skirt creeping higher up her thighs.
She leaned in, her glossy berry painted lips primed for a kiss, but Atlas leaned back, craning his neck to peer over the balcony behind them.
And then he saw her.
Everinne was tangled in the arms of Jarek Zima. If it had been anyone else, Atlas told himself he probably wouldn’t care, but if Everinne thought she was going to take a demon summoner back to her bed, she was highly mistaken.
When Jarek’s hand slid lower to palm the curve of her ass, Atlas’s pulse hammered in rage.
Over his dead fucking body.
“Excuse me, milazk .” Atlas lifted the vampire off his lap, despite her pretty pout, and deposited her on the sofa beside him.
He stood, glanced over the balcony, his gaze zeroing in on them once more. Without another thought, he stalked toward the door of the Midnight Lounge.
“Your Imperial Highness.”
Damn it.
Caedian appeared from the shadowed corner of the lounge, always on duty. He stepped forward, tucking his hands behind him. “Where are you going?”
Atlas lifted a hand, waving him off. “Stand down, Captain. I’m just going home.”
Caedian arched a suspicious brow, the glass ceiling of the Grand Cru proving it was going to be an earlier night than usual. “Already?”
“I forgot I have something I need to take care of,” Atlas muttered.
He stalked out of the lounge and closed the door soundly behind him. Almost instantly a flock of females descended upon him, but he was in no mood to wage war against the females of Starysa. His wings exploded from behind him, forcing them to stumble backward, away from him.
“Apologies, ladies. No time to play tonight.” He gripped the railing of the staircase, swung both legs over, then let his wings carry him across the dance floor.
Soaring lower, he ignored the gasps and shouts of his name, then dropped right in front of Everinne and Jarek, effectively blocking their path.
Everinne didn’t notice him at first, her face was angled up toward the demon summoner, her eyes glassy from too much drink. She stumbled along beside him, holding onto him like she’d fall over if she let go. If she wasn’t careful, she’d break her ankle in those damn shoes.
Atlas stretched his wings wider in a full display of power. No one approached him, no one spoke to him, but everyone watched him. He shoved his hands into his pockets, clenching his fists, and offered a slow smile.
“Evening,” he drawled.
Everinne’s gaze swung to him, and Atlas didn’t miss the way Jarek’s finger dug into her hip before he went rigid next to her.
“Your Imperial Highness.” Jarek bowed, but Everinne’s face hardened.
“Make anyone orgasm yet, Your Radiance?” she asked, her smile sharp.
“Not yet.” Atlas rocked back onto his heels, then winked, just to piss her off. “But the night is still young.”
Her jaw went slack but she recovered quickly, her full lips pressing into a firm line.
She tugged on Jarek’s arm, trying to steer him around Atlas, and lost her balance.
He righted her, but she swatted at Atlas’s wings in an effort to move past him.
He fluttered them once, just to annoy her further.
Her brow furrowed, and those turquoise eyes of hers cut to him. “Move out of the way, playboy prince.”
The slight was a little too loud, and his blood simmered at her public display of disrespect. It was one thing to mouth off to him in private, it was something else altogether when his citizens were watching.
He reached out, snaring her by the chin, and forcing her to look up at him. She struggled but he tightened his grip, holding her in place. She sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening.
“Mind yourself, Wildheart,” he murmured softly. “You might be my best friend’s sister, but I’m still your prince .”
Her scowl deepened.
“In a hurry tonight, Everinne?” He released her.
She stumbled backward, and Jarek’s hand darted to the small of her back to keep her from falling. If the demon summoner wasn’t careful, Atlas would cut off the offending hand one finger at a time.
“Yes, actually.” Everinne slid one finger down Jarek’s chest, then hooked it into the waistband of his pants. Atlas’s jaw clenched. “As a matter of fact, I’m going home with…”
Her voice trailed off and a pretty shade of pink flushed her cheeks.
Atlas arched a mocking brow, then smirked down at her. Ah. So, she didn’t even know the name of the guy who was escorting her out of the Grand Cru.
“Jarek,” the demon summoner supplied for her, not at all embarrassed by her lack of knowledge.
“I would’ve asked,” she ground out, shoving her dark waves back from her face.
“When?” Atlas asked, knowing exactly what to say to rile her up. “Before or after you sleep with him?”
“Fuck off, Atlas,” she spat, swaying lightly.
“I’m taking her home.” Jarek’s voice was low and calm, but there was a hint of challenge reflected in his eyes.
“Like hell you are.” Atlas held Jarek’s stare, daring him to contradict him.
Undercurrents of tension throbbed between them, drawing a thick crowd of onlookers.
Many of them were partygoers out for a night of fun, drawn in by the spectacle of someone coming to a standoff with their beloved prince.
The other half were royal guards, simply waiting for him to give the word.
Everinne barreled forward, poking Atlas in the chest with her finger. “Get out of my way.”
He snared her wrist and leaned forward, ensuring his lips grazed the lobe of her ear, all while keeping his hard gaze trained on Jarek.
She went utterly still, her breath hitching.
“And what do you think Veros will say when he learns his sister spent the night with a fucking demon summoner? Do you really want to explain to him how little you care for your own life?”
She turned her head then, her lush mouth suddenly less than a breath away from his own.
The apples of her cheeks were still dusted with iridescent glitter, and so was the tip of her nose.
He didn’t want to think about where else those sparkly little flecks were hiding.
Her turquoise gaze dipped down to where their lips almost touched, then darted back up to his eyes.
“A demon summoner?” A breathy gasp left her and her lashes fluttered. “Perhaps I should let him steal my soul.”
Atlas knew his next barb would strike true. “That would only work if you had a soul worthy to take, Wildheart.”
She made to slap him, but he leaned back, dodging her hand, and she stumbled. Her ankle buckled, and the thin heel of one of her shoes snapped off completely. Everinne yelped, and a fleeting look of pain flashed across her face before she toppled into his arms.
Atlas held her tightly while she pummeled his chest with pathetically weak punches.
He could specifically recall a time when one solid punch from her would actually threaten to leave a bruise.
But this thrashing about was pitiful. He told himself it was probably just the alcohol—he hated to think she was wasting her life away, but the truth of the matter was she hadn’t been the same since…
well, since she took that wretched human man’s life.
“Let me go!” She struggled against him, her mess of hair tickling his chin.
“Not a chance,” he muttered.
When her knee came dangerously close to hitting him in the groin, he decided he had enough.
In one swift movement, he lifted her up, tossing her over his shoulder like she was nothing more than a sack of sand.
When his royal guards closed in around them, she froze, her fists slacking as she rested her palms against his back.
She may be the sister of the Lord of Time, but an assault on the Imperial Prince of Prava could still land her in the dungeon for a night. If anything, it would be worth it to teach her a lesson.
Atlas leveled Jarek with a cold stare. The male didn’t even flinch. Just cracked his knuckles, all those skull rings he wore glinting like shards.
“Go find another toy to play with tonight.” He clamped his hand over the back of Everinne’s thighs, ensuring his grip was strong enough to leave prints should she attempt to fight him again, while also making sure he covered her nearly exposed ass. “This one’s broken.”
At those words, Everinne fell limp against his shoulder.
But Atlas didn’t have time to feel guilt for his insult, not while facing off with the demon summoner.
Jarek didn’t retort. He wouldn’t. Not with everyone watching. He stayed where he was, but even as Atlas turned away and stalked toward the exit with Everinne in tow, he could feel Jarek’s hardened eyes launching daggers into his back.
The brisk winter air cut through Atlas’s shirt, freezing his lungs on the first inhale, and from over his shoulder, Everinne shivered.
“Should’ve brought a coat,” Atlas chided. But he held her tighter.
“P-piss off.” Her entire body clenched, and he could feel the goosebumps pebbling her thighs against the palm of his hand.
He stalked toward the curb where the valade was parked, waiting for him.
It was a sleek black vehicle powered by arcane magic.
The windows were heavily tinted, the interior was svelte and luxurious, with numerous compartments and amenities—like chilled sparkling wine.
Two guards flanked him on both sides, and one darted forward, opening the door for him. Atlas grunted his thanks.