Chapter 11
Eleven
Adrien
Iknew this day would come. But I was not prepared for it to come so soon. And I certainly wasn’t prepared for how I reacted, either.
I walk aimlessly through the campus grounds, since the gym is locked up and the bar and restaurant are closed.
The campus itself is quiet, and though I could probably get in trouble for being out this late, I don’t think there's anyone awake to know, so I ration it’s fine.
I operate best in the shadows, it seems. Darkness is peaceful, still.
It’s the only constant in my life, it feels like.
It’s where I do my best thinking.
I should be angry at Wesley for kissing her. Ivy Reign. I should want to tear her limb from limb for trying to steal what’s mine.
He’s not yours, Adrien, you know that.
I huff out an annoyed grunt as my mind tries to be logical, rational.
When this—this situation, with Wesley—when it started, two years ago we were both upfront about attachments. Wesley only wanted to sate his heat, the same way he always has, and I only wanted to help the guy out, and yeah, maybe I was helping because it was benefitting me, too.
But somewhere along the line, things changed and I fucking fell in love with Prince Wesley Castor. I did exactly what I promised myself I wouldn’t do.
And now I’m in too deep with Wesley. I’m so deep I might as well be six feet under.
I know I should be angry with him. With her. I should be downright pissed that Ivy Reign walks into our fucking dorm with her sparkling red eyes and that luscious pout and flashes those long eyelashes and suddenly Wesley’s dick has done a fucking one eighty.
And make no mistake, I am pissed, but I also can’t deny the hardness throbbing in my pants right now because I’ve kissed Wesley a hundred times and he’s never kissed me like he was kissing her.
And I fucking liked how he kissed her, and I found myself wondering if I kissed her, if she would taste like him.
I wondered what her mouth would feel like on mine—would it be like smooth warm sugar and promises I can’t fucking keep? Would she open her mouth for me the way he does? The way she does for him?
I’ve never fantasized about kissing a woman in my twenty-six years of existence, but for the briefest second, I wondered what it would be like to kiss her and that was almost as terrifying and arousing as the sight of him kissing her like he couldn’t fucking breathe without her tongue in his bloody mouth.
I could smell their combined bloodheat like poisonous gas; thickening the air.
My body responded of its own accord to the familiar scent of Wesley, and the still new, still confusing scent of Ivy. And together, it was something so much more intoxicating than it should have been. Sugar, spice, and decidedly everything not so fucking nice.
I grab my cock, trying to still the sudden arousal their scent has seemingly thrown me into.
“No, Adrien. That is a bad fucking idea.”
I can’t think about coming right now. Not when my bloody heart feels like it’s going to explode out my damn chest and my fangs hurt like hell.
I walk until I can’t walk anymore. The cool air is irritating, and I know it’s late and I need to get to bed if only because I have combat early tomorrow. So I ration, I’ll take out this—whatever this bullshit is that’s going on with me, with Wesley— I’ll leave it on the mat.
And then I’ll do what I should have done long ago. I’ll set Wesley free.
It’s what has to be done, Adrien.
I tell myself I feel good about this decision, as if saying the words will somehow magically make it true. But it doesn’t, and nothing will make it okay. Because I don’t want to let Wesley go, but I know I can’t keep him for myself, selfishly, either.
It’s only going to be bad for the both of us.
He’s got one semester left. He’s been here longer than most, and maybe I’m to blame for that, too. Because I held him back. I slipped deeper and deeper into his arms, and I kept him from finding a mate.
I’ll never mate anyone. I knew that before I came to this bloody school, and I’d tried to tell my parents as much, but they didn’t want to listen.
And when I’d gotten here, I swore I’d bide my time until I was sent home, and my family would believe me then.
They’d let me go, and give up on the matter, and I could finally just…
live life on my terms. And then I found Wesley, and though I tried to resist his magnetic pull, I was weak.
He dragged me like an undertow and now I’m drowning in him. In what we have, what I wish we could be. In what we’ll never be, because Wesley needs to find a suitable mate. A vampiress who can give him what I can’t, and only then will he ever have a chance at usurping the throne from his brother.
I can’t say for certain if Ivy is that person, but I do know that he’ll never find a mate if he’s tangled up with me. And clearly, despite what Wesley has said in the past, he wants to explore the possibility. Judging by the tent in his pants when he was kissing her.
The memory replays in my mind and I adjust my stupid cock, because the thought alone of seeing his erection—of seeing her grind on him like that—is enough to elicit a pebble of moisture at my cockhead, and I both hate it and love it. And I know I shouldn’t love it. Not at all.
For starters, I’ve never felt even the vaguest of interest in women. Even as a kid in my parents’ estate, I never felt particularly drawn to the young vampiresses at school or in the neighborhood. And even as a teenager, I didn’t feel drawn to them in the way my peers did.
But what I did feel was a deep longing in my gut every time my professor walked in the room.
What I did feel, was hard as a fucking rock when I was alone with my best friend, Henry.
And when Henry kissed me back that one fabled night under the moonlight in the woods on the way back from a school function, I understood I was different from the other vampires, but I wasn’t alone.
Henry felt the same thing, and soon kissing turned to touching, and before I knew it, he was on his knees, taking me into his mouth; his fangs dragging along my shaft as he sucked my cock like I longed to suck on a neck.
And after that, I never questioned why I wasn’t like the other men, because I didn’t need to be like them. I could have my cake and eat it, too, as long as I didn’t breathe a word of it.
It wasn’t like vampire bachelors didn’t exist. They just weren’t as revered or accepted, and most either moved outside the realm to live a life of perpetual solitude, or they remained playboys for eternity, never claiming a mate, but instead surviving off blood and pussy until they were either killed by necromancers or… until they simply left altogether.
But even as I walk towards the dormitory, my shoulders sinking and my heart tired and achy, I can’t help but admit, if only to myself, that I felt something for the bratty little princess. I’m just not entirely sure what that something is, in actuality.
And I don’t want to dissect it, either.
Not now, maybe not ever. I can’t get in the way of whatever is happening between Wesley and Ivy. I can’t hold him back anymore, and I know that.
But Gods, I wish it were different. I wish Ivy Reign had never come to this bloody fucking academy.
When I open the door to the dorm, it’s dark and quiet.
I carefully make my way in and lock the door, feeling on edge, my mind still racing like my heartbeat. Will Wesley be here? Or will he be with her, now? Has he gotten his things and left? Have my actions shoved him into her arms, her bed, or—
I turn the corner to see him in bed. Asleep.
My heart cracks as relief and sadness flood me. I approach the bed carefully. Gazing down at him, I try to commit the image of him like this to my memory. Dark hair all messy, lips parted as he softly snores away. His pale shoulder catching the moonlight streaming through the window.
I reach out without thinking and run my fingers through his hair. So soft, smooth. So perfect.
I let them trail down his neck and shoulders. I love touching him, I always have.
And soon enough, this will only be a memory. A stolen moment I cling to. Just like the memories of the last two years. The best years of my life, no doubt about it.
His eyelashes flutter, and I drop my hand. When he opens his eyes, those deep crystal irises look up at me with so much pain, I hate myself. Because I know it’s me that causes him pain.
I always cause him pain, and this is no different. And I know what I’m going to do will hurt him deeply. But I remind myself I’m doing it for him. To give him the chance he needs to find a mate and live the life he’s supposed to. The one he deserves.
“Hey,” he says shakily.
“Hey.”
“Wasn’t sure you were coming back,” he murmurs, clutching his pillow on his side of the bed.
I don’t bother to take my sweatpants off or my shirt. I get in on my side, noticing the modicum of space between us. I hate it. There never used to be space.
But now there is, and there is nothing I can do to stop it from getting bigger.
“Wasn’t sure you’d be here when I did,” I say honestly.
Wesley slides closer to me.
“Of course I’d be here,” he says, reaching for my face. “I’m always here.”
I grasp his hand with mine, running my thumb over the back of his hand.
For a moment he just looks at me, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Is he going to beat me to the punch? Is he thinking of her? Is he—
His lips find mine without warning and he pulls me close into his space, and I don’t stop him. I can’t.
I fall into his kiss easily. It’s familiar, it’s warm, and it makes my already hard cock throb. Wesley slides his leg through mine, thrusting himself against me involuntarily.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes against my lips. “Adrien, I—”