Chapter 7
Seven
Her ruby dipped blooddrop eyes fume as her pupils slightly flare. Her fangs peaking from the corners as she bares her teeth at me and digs her nails into the forearm connected to the hand wrapped around her throat.
I squeeze my fingers tighter, slowing the blood flow in her veins instead of cutting off her air supply. Amateurs tend to do the opposite and while I have stopped their airflow before, I know just when to make sure they don’t pass out.
Unless, of course, I want them to pass out.
But Trouble is not exactly ready for that. Yet.
I lean in closer so my lips just barely graze her ear to whisper but there’s a shock that goes through her body and I sense pain.
Pulling back I catch her eyes squeezed shut, jaw gritted, and every minute muscle in her face tensed before she turns her head opposite of me and blows out a breath as she unclenches.
Turning my head slightly, I lean back in to graze my lips over the shell of her ear and she does it again. Her nails digging harder into my skin until my blood begins beading and my scent of pine and death permeates the air.
Immediately I let go of her and step back with a cold calculation. Her back against the wall slides to the floor as she heaves once. . . twice. . . a third time before she shakes her head and shoves off to stand.
Rubbing at her neck, she points glaring bloodred eyes at me.
It sends a jolt down my spine, but I’m too intrigued to care about my dick at the moment – for once.
Trouble has had my attention for a while now.
Her little secrets I’ve been collecting like the very common stones and gems Airencia likes to pick up and set on her bay window at home.
For example, one of those little secrets is she is not a vampyr.
Clever little minx. She knew my father’s name when he had never officially introduced it, yet she said his name as if he had.
I never met my father’s brother – he was exiled long before I was born, but I did hear bits and pieces growing up.
He was a madman and thrived on delivering pain to others.
For moments when I was younger I had thought my father was describing me, but Lyalthil did not care about anyone’s pleasure but his own ever. I care at least sometimes.
There was once though, when my father went to visit him and his fated.
He came back struck, held my mother for hours and it was the first time I had seen my father cry.
I was maybe eleven or twelve at the time and he had told my mother of a little girl covered in scars with the most beautiful voice.
Shackled to his brother and instead of doing something – anything – to help the little girl, he had simply watched his brother throw her back in a cage and he left.
Secret number two. . . she has never met Sanivin the first vampire in any realm and has always known the lyrics of the spirits song. A memory passed to her from a life she never lived. It was the song she sang when my father had visited that one time.
Secret number three. . . her runic curse not only makes it so she burns in the sun, but whenever anyone touches her skin.
That one I had thought I had mistaken since Thorne had grabbed her neck that night, but now. . .
I slide my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants and peer at her. She’s still glaring at me so I tick the corner of my lip up as I wait. She came here for me for some reason and decided to start by asking that question.
Crossing her arms, she rolls her eyes and blows out a breath. “Look, that was rude. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have started with that just. . .” She narrows her eyes at me and is calculating something. “If I tell you a secret are you going to go blab to everyone else?”
I raise a brow. “Blab. . . ?” I repeat, to which she nods seriously as if she didn’t just say that dumbass word. Hmmm, I wonder which secret she’ll give me. “You’re secret’s safe with me, Trouble. So long as I get a favor in return.”
Regret flashes across her face, but whatever next thought she has must outweigh whatever regret she will feel.
Shifting, she rubs her arm and then glances at my open door. Smirking, I nod towards it and then walk in. I’ll let her follow me, that way she still has a chance to run if she wants. That is, until she walks in and I slam the door shut and lock it.
“You’re mine now, Trouble,” I whisper, and in the corner of my sight I see her shiver.
Leaning against the door, I watch her take in the place. My actual bedroom is a few rooms to the right through open double doors. This room mostly serves as my office space. Bookshelves lining the walls with my desk in front of the large bay window.
Her eyes are still red as she exams the space. Glancing at the open double doors to the right and the closed door to the left. I’ll let her go explore them on her own if she’s curious enough, but right now I want to know my next secret.
“Sooo. . .” she starts. Turning on her heel and crossing her arms in front of her. “Well, I actually had a question to ask you, a. . . favor of sorts.”
Now I’m doubly intrigued, but I keep my relaxed position against the door and continue to watch her. She had come dressed in leggings that show off her lithe legs and round ass, but her long sleeve hides the rest of her body.
Huffing a breath, she dives right in. “There’s a runic curse on me that makes me burn in the sun, but coinciding with it I can’t have skin on skin contact anywhere except my hands, feet, and neck.”
All this I know – not that I’m telling her that.
“I wanted to ask if you could help me. . .” She tilts her head from side to side as she winces. “. . . basically you touch me so I can get used to the pain.”
My mind goes to the gutter and heat flames south, but I don’t move from my position.
“You want me to. . . touch you?”
Her jaw clenches as she gives me a dry look but her cheeks flush anyways. “Like my arms or something. I had been able to be semi immune to it after I was initially touched, but no one ever touched my skin while I was at the brothel.”
Curious. “And why me? Why not your fated or even your bestie?”
She shrugs it off and shakes her head. “Callahan would rather never touch me again than hurt me, and no one else knows. This is the secret I would need you to keep. Not even them at the brothel really know about it, they just think I don’t like people touching my scars.”
Hmm. My eyes rove over her body as I contemplate it.
“What does it feel like?”
Her fingers trace up her arm. “Burning. It feels like burning but without the warmth. It’s only pain.”
Our conversation weeks ago filters through my mind. When I had been leading her to Asier’s office and she said the reason she burned her hand was because she missed the warmth.
She wanted warmth without burning. And she can’t get it from the sun or touch.
I glance down at my shirtless chest and then nod to her. “So how do you want to do it?”
Her brows shoot up and her eyes widen as the red fades back to a pale pink. Her aura hiding back within her blood and behind the poison.
“Just like that?” She snaps her fingers at the same time as she says that last word. Then she eyes me with skepticism. “And what exactly do you want in return?”
Finally pushing off the door, I slowly prowl over to her and round the side. She stays stone still as I let my chest brush against her shoulder and her scent becomes just a hairs breath stronger. I can scent distinct aromas instead of the usual sweetness I always get.
Blue belladon. Berries and a cut of floral.
Leaning down, I line my lips to the side of her ear and this time keep enough space between us.
“For keeping your secret,” I start, even though I had already known it, “I want a blank check. I want a favor you will return when I call for it.” Her shoulders stiffen but heat cascades from her.
“And for helping you. . . well I get to touch you however I want.”
Her thighs clench together even as she glances back with dangerous eyes. Contradictions, contradictions. Her body wanting something she won’t admit – yet.
“Deal or no deal?” I whisper.
Her lips pull back slightly to show a hint of fang and I lick my lips wishing they were hers.
“Deal,” she grits and before the word has fully left her lips my hand wraps around the front of her neck and I pull her towards me.
Sliding her hair out from between us, I bring her back flush towards my chest and wrap my free hand around her stomach. A gasp leaves her lips and her body stays tensed as her nails imbed themselves into my forearms.
Her chest purrs as she growls and I slowly start hiking her crewneck up. Using my fingers to inch it up and exposing her stomach. She tenses further as I turn us so we’re facing a floor length mirror between the bookshelves.
Burning eyes meet mine first before I drop my blue ones to the skin I’m exposing. I freeze for only a moment as I peer at what’s shown and she grunts at me. “I guess I should have clarified. It’s not my skin cursed, it’s the scars and markings.”
She said only her hands, feet, and neck. Meaning her entire body is lined with scars.
“Yeah,” she growls, confirming what I was thinking.
But instead of letting her go or stopping, I continue slowly dragging her shirt up until the entirety of her stomach is exposed. Right up until the band of her sports bra shows and her eyes widen in furious surprise.
“I did say I would touch you my way, Trouble.”
She says nothing about that but panic flashes across her face. Tucking her shirt into the band of her bra, I place my hand on her legging covered hip and pull her closer to me. Her ass nestled perfectly over my hard dick as I slow the blood flow at her neck again by squeezing my fingers.
“D-Darian,” she croaks as I rub my thumb over her hip bone.
Callahan and Varian would probably kill me right now, but I’ve wanted her from the moment my father sarcastically warned me a vampire was entering this school – and then he told me who and what she exactly was.