Chapter 9
Nine
Ivy
“What’s his problem today?” Chloe mutters.
I blink, part of me wanting to go after Wesley Castor. There’s no mistaking that he’s a royal Castor. I can see the family resemblance even though he looks nothing like his brother in his features, they share the same bone structure, the same height and build.
Though Wyatt looks like an angel, he is quite a devil when he opens his mouth.
But Wesley… he looks like a demon if I ever saw one. Deep, sapphire blue eyes—the eyes from my dreams—and hair as black as night. Where Wyatt is clean-shaven and pretty, Wesley is…
Dark. Inviting. Beautiful in his own right. And the moment I touched him…
I’ve never felt pure power like that. My powers are not fully formed, for one, so even the magic I can feel isn’t all-consuming. But Wesley… his energy was unlike anything I’ve ever felt as it carried through me like an electric current, striking me like lightning in my chest and deep in my soul.
And I would be remiss to write off the fact that the energy stirred my bloodheat.
Desire culminated inside me as visions plagued my psyche. Of those deep blue eyes staring up at me, fangs glinting in the light. Of bitter tongues lashing out at me and licking my flesh in the same breath. Of blood and… sex.
The mesh of bodies undulating like waves, thick white ropes marking flesh, mixing with the deep crimson rivers of blood.
I could feel my orgasm on the brink and then he simply let go. He turned away and my insides ached, angry that he was taking our satisfaction with him like it truly belonged to him.
And now I stand here, with hot, wet thighs and a beating heart, my bloodheat echoing in my brain to go after him and—
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Adrien grumbles. “Probably ate something that didn’t agree with him.”
I don’t miss the bitterness in his voice, but there is also a comfort there.
“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Chloe says, and I let out a sigh.
I catch Adrien’s gaze. He’s staring at me intently.
“I hope it wasn’t something I said,” I mewl as I let her drag me. Adrien lets out a deep sigh as he follows us.
Chloe mutters something incoherent under her breath.
“Doubt it,” Adrien bites, flanking me on the other side of Chloe. We move through the halls, Chloe setting the fast pace.
“I mean, you only just met the guy, right? You don’t even know him well enough to piss him off yet.”
“And there’s the grumpy asshole we all know and love,” Chloe chides, and I look at her smirk, feeling a half-hearted smile of my own form.
“Fuck you, Chloe,” Adrien snaps.
She coos dramatically.
“If you gave me a chance, Adrien, I would fuck you into next week.”
He growls and flips her his middle finger.
“No thanks,” he says with heavy sarcasm. “You’re not my type.”
The fiery energy I felt last night reemerges as I look up at him, my cheeks heating from the implication.
At Chloe’s words, I can’t help but envision Adrien without his clothes on. It’s not hard, considering he’s once again shirtless and gleaming with sweat, and his pants are hanging off his hips rather deliciously.
“See, that’s the thing, babe. You don’t know what your type is unless you try it first.” She sticks her tongue out.
Adrien rolls his eyes. “Do us all a favor and don’t listen to anything she tells you, okay?”
I let out a chuckle as he raises an eyebrow. “All the dick has rotted her fucking brain.”
We arrive outside the gym, and I can’t help but smirk as she shoves him.
“You’re just jealous,” she taunts.
“Far from it, Chloe, but whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night.”
She glares at him as she heads in the door. She casts her gaze on me, and I know without her having to say it, she’s giving me this moment to speak to Adrien, and she’s going to want details.
Part of me likes this. I’ve never had a girlfriend before, even at home. I spent most of my time alone, with my teachers or my father.
And I’m starting to realize how much I’ve yearned for connection to other vampires. And vampiresses, too, apparently.
But there’s also another part of me that wants to preserve whatever transpires between Adrien and me. Hold onto it like a prized trophy.
Mine.
The thought hits me, and I shove it away. Perhaps I did not sleep as well as I thought.
“Thank you for your help last night,” I say, flashing my gaze up at him.
“Mhmm. Don’t make it a habit, princess.”
I note his gaze dips to my mouth then to my eyes.
“Don’t worry about Wes. He’s fine. He’ll be fine,” he tells me reassuringly.
My insides warm under his steady gaze. I breathe in deeply, letting his woodsy scent fill my lungs and he grunts.
“What the fuck are you doing?” His tone is bitter, but there’s a hint of curiosity to it that wasn’t there last night.
“You just smell really good,” I say, like an absolute imbecile.
But it’s the truth. He does smell really good. My insides twist as I bite my lip, feeling the edges of my bloodheat rippling once more.
I lean into his space without thinking, but he doesn’t move. He stands still as a statue.
I catch the faintest whiff of something sharp and salty, though I’m not sure what it is. My bloodheat responds to it like a gong, my insides coating with fresh arousal.
Arousal.
I realize all at once I had this feeling last night too, in Adrien’s presence.
It was enough to goad me into pleasuring myself, and though I know I shouldn’t think of men I just met in such a way, I can’t help the way my body reacts during my bloodheat.
It wants what it wants, and that’s just a fact.
But I have enough control to refrain from jumping in head first into a sexual experience with a man I just met. Bloodheat or no bloodheat.
And I’m not entirely sure Adrien would be open to such a thing anyway, not only because we barely know each other, but because I get the strangest feeling Adrien is quite selective.
Call it a hunch.
He wrinkles his nose, twisting his lips. His dark gaze glistens like amber fire. And then he says, “You don’t smell terrible. But I’m not sure I like it.”
It’s a strange thing to say, and I find myself agape at his rudeness, but also…
Intrigued.
I’m not sure I like it. What is he unsure about? I am curious.
Is it my bloodheat, my natural scent, or something else?
“You should get to class. Trent hates tardiness,” he says, his voice dropping an octave.
“Right,” I say as I extricate myself from where I stand and head into the gym.
My skin is flushed, my heart is racing, but I swear I’ve never felt better in my life.
“Good job, Ivy,” Trent, the coach says, showcasing his fangs in a bona fide grin.
Chloe grins as well, nudging my shoulder.
“Not bad for a beginner,” she says.
“You’re certainly off to a good start. I’d recommend coming in here a couple days throughout the week, just to build up your endurance and stamina. I lock up at eleven, just so you know.”
I push some strands behind my ear, my ponytail practically dripping with sweat.
I’ve never considered myself a physical person.
Father had a gym and training course, of course, but those were for the knights and soldiers in our employ, not for us.
Ptaris had a gym in his quarters, and I’m sure if I would have asked him, he would have let me use it.
Although, the thought of Ptaris makes me feel conflicted, given everything I know now.
About him. And my father.
It shouldn’t bother me. And in truth, it’s not the fact that my father claimed him that bothers me at all. It’s the fact that I simply didn’t know—that neither of them trusted me enough to tell me the truth.
I am not obtuse, I know how most vampires feel about those who desire the same sex.
Even though our kingdom is a bit more progressive than our Castorian rivals, there is still an air of disdain attached to the idea.
But my father could have changed that, could he not?
If he and Ptaris had come forth about their bond, they could have shown our kingdom and the realm that such a bond was not one to be feared, but celebrated.
My father loved my mother dearly, that I know.
And her death always felt like a haunting ghost on its own. But he had Ptaris. His best friend and a man I grew up with, looking at as if he was a second father, and sometimes a first, depending on the situation.
Certainly, if there was a person to lay law and change perceptions on the matter it would have been a king in power.
But I suppose it could have backfired, too. Perhaps others would have seen it as a sign of weakness, a chip in his armor—a reason to remove him from the throne. I don’t know. I can’t be certain what would have happened, so I tell myself it’s best not to think about it.
“You girls go on up and hit the showers; you worked your asses off today,” Trent says, flashing Chloe a surreptitious smile.
I look between them, as Adrien’s words settle on me.
Don’t listen to her, her brain’s been rotted by all the dick.
My cheeks flush as I wonder if Trent’s smile is more than what it seems.
“Yes, we did,” Chloe says as she tugs my hand, and I realize I’ve been standing here like a bold-faced statue, caught in my head once again.
I seem to be doing that a lot lately.
Getting lost in my thoughts, my surroundings…
I follow Chloe with ease, my sweat starting to chill on my skin. The locker room isn’t particularly full, our class is small, about ten or so vampires and vampiresses.
But the steam fills the room as if there are far more of us than what there actually are.
Chloe undresses next to me, just as she had this morning when we’d arrived. I steal a glance, if only because I’ve never seen another vampiress undressed like this, until this morning and then I’d been rushed because I had been talking to Adrien longer than I should have.
I note the curves of her breasts and hips, the flatness of her stomach. Her pale flesh glistens as she removes her sports bra and her panties, and I do the same.