Chapter 1 #2
While the Count talked, I used the opportunity to study him, and that wasn’t something I’d done since I’d lived under his roof.
Mainly because I’d been too weak to bother.
He came every morning to give me instructions for the day, and returned to check that I’d followed them in the evenings, but I never saw him during the day.
I’d defied him once; instead of staying in my room as he’d ordered, I’d decided I wanted to see something other than its four walls.
I’d made it as far as the top of the stairs before he’d materialised in front of me.
I’d been as weak as a baby, and before I’d even managed to tell him to fuck off, the world started tumbling, my legs giving way as gravity pulled me down the stairs.
I hadn’t even had the energy to yell. To my shame, Balthazar caught me.
Before I could process the fact that another male had swung me, a six-foot-four, big-assed shifter, into his arms like a child, I was back in my room and lying on the soft mattress.
I’d not tried to defy him since. Mainly because I was just so exhausted that I could barely walk to the bathroom and back to my chair by the window, let alone explore.
Today was no different. Exhaustion made my whole body heavy, but it was Lina’s day; she loved Owen, and I wouldn’t miss my friend’s handfasting.
I snarled, angry at my body for being so weak, and looked around, finding more than one friend glancing my way.
They were all worried. The suspicion. The pity.
Their faces were full of it. All because I could so easily become a crazed monster.
No one knew if I’d been infected when the Mades kidnapped me and used me as their blood bank.
The newest tactic in the war against the Original vampires was a virus.
It had been developed to infect the newly turned.
When they went through the transition from human to fledgling vampire, it took over.
Feeding frenzy, or bloodlust, was a normal part of the transition.
At least, it was for humans. Supernaturals were generally too dangerous when they hit bloodlust to be allowed to live.
Now the virus was named after that feeding frenzy because it turned fledglings into insatiable killers who would rip apart anyone nearby, whether they were human or supernatural.
Outbreaks were rampaging through cities all over the world, and the Shadow Sentinels, along with the Supernatural Bureau of Investigation and Bal’s vampire army, were fighting back.
But it was a losing battle. Finding the vamps who were producing the virus and developing a cure was proving impossible. Even for someone like Balthazar Rossi.
For some reason, both Connor and Balthazar had decided to give me a chance to see if I could handle the change from wolf shifter to Made vampire, but I was under no illusions.
They would kill me if I became a danger to anyone.
And I wanted them to. The thought of killing innocent people who had never done anything to hurt me made me sick.
I rolled my shoulders and stretched out my aching muscles.
I’d felt a little stronger the last few days.
I’d even managed to walk unaided. Granted, it had taken me one hell of a long time to get from my room to the light and airy kitchen, but I’d fucking done it.
I was just glad Balthazar hadn’t been there to see my pathetic efforts.
Sorcha, his other house guest, had been, though.
Thankfully, he’d not protested when she stated she’d be spending more time with me now that I’d made it out of my room.
I smiled. Which was easy to do when thinking of Sorcha.
She was the sweetest, most quietly spoken woman I’d ever met.
Not weak, I could sense her quiet strength, even see it in her eyes.
It was something I found intriguing, and more than a little appealing.
It made me want to learn everything about her.
I’d been as friendly as I could be, and, though we’d only just met, I found myself relaxing in her company.
I didn’t relax with the Count—at all—ever.
I'd refused to give him a smile, or even a word of thanks.
Then again, it was hard to be friendly towards a male who was powerful enough to make my skin tingle and dominant enough to challenge every aspect of my alpha personality.
Davlov, his second in command, had been as standoffish as the Count.
But Davlov’s mate, Elliot, had gone out of his way to make sure I was as comfortable as I could be, until the Count had warned him away, saying I was a possible danger.
It hurt that he was right. I wasn’t dangerous, but no one, not even me, knew when I might go into bloodlust. Sorcha had smiled sweetly and then ignored him, but Elliot couldn’t, not when he was a young vampire himself and was part of the Count’s security team.
Besides, Davlov wouldn’t allow Elliot to be alone with me, even though Elliot was a trained assassin.
I huffed. There were no hard feelings from me about it, not when I’d do the exact same thing if I had a mate.
I leaned forward in my seat, my buzzing mind focused entirely on the Count’s alluring presence.
It wasn’t something I could help. My whole body ached to go to him, something tugging behind my ribs that was almost painful.
My fingers curled into my palms, my brows drawn down.
Confused didn’t cover how I felt. He might be the most gorgeous male I’d ever seen, but there were many other stunning and sexy supernaturals in this world, and I’d never been so messed up about, angry with, or drawn to any of them.
His waist-length black hair had been secured in a tight, intricate braid that hung down his back.
Hints of red shone in those obsidian locks, mesmerising me as they glinted when he moved his head.
Beautiful, detailed tattoos wound their way from beneath his silver silk shirt, up the strong column of his neck, disappearing behind his ears into his hairline.
My fingers clenched against the insistent urge to undo that braid and run my fingers through his hair. I frowned, shaking my head a little.
What the hell?
I didn’t understand my reaction to him, not that it mattered.
I couldn’t drag my attention away. His face was beautiful, almost painfully so, and I doubted many were immune to his perfection.
Yet, beneath that beauty simmered a hardness, a vast power that knew no remorse.
He was a true monster, if all the legends were to be believed.
Still, I guess someone who looked in his late thirties but was ancient had many reasons to be a cold bastard.
Life had been pretty shitty at times for me, and at ninety years old, I was only a pinprick of time in Balthazar Rossi’s existence.
I ran my gaze over his strong shoulders.
The suit he wore fit him perfectly and clearly cost more money than most people earned in a year.
I ignored that fact, continuing my study.
His back tapered in an elegant V to a trim waist, his suit jacket stopping just above the tight globes of his arse.
My breathing hitched as a sudden and unexpected wave of desire washed through me.
What would he look like while he fucked?
Would that tight arse and all those other muscles clench as he thrust in hard, controlling and possessing his partner’s body?
Would he be as dominant in bed as he was out of it, or possibly more?
I clenched my teeth, my heart racing and my cock twitching.
Why the hell was I even thinking about that?
I’d never been into males. At least, I didn’t think so.
I’d honestly never met anyone who turned me on like that image of him naked, covered in a sheen of sweat, and grunting as he fucked—me.
I rubbed my hands over my face, fighting to control my arousal as I caught a hint of his unique scent.
Jesus, it was as overpowering and exotic as he was.
I exhaled hard. I couldn’t be attracted to him.
Not only had I never been with another male, I’d never before felt this level of desire for anyone.
It was frightening for that reason alone.
I couldn’t be lusting after my captor. He was the reason I’d been blood raped. Or at least, his kind was.
Originals were born as vampires. Mades were humans who’d been bitten by an Original and turned. However, some of them were old enough to have a disturbing amount of power and strength, enough that they could turn humans, too. Which hadn’t always been the case.
My gaze lifted from where it had been fixed on the Count’s perfect behind to study his handsome profile, only to find a pair of nearly colourless eyes boring into me.
Shit! Busted!
Heat flared in my cheeks. That heat was mirrored in his eyes as they flashed red, reflecting the fairy lights like a predator. A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn’t look away.
Mother Wolf! What the fuck was I doing? I’ve never checked out another male. And I sure as shit never blushed!
The Count’s heated gaze took in my red face, and a slight smirk curled his mouth before he moved his attention back to Ventry, the faery prince. Shifting his weight, he fully turned his back on me. A dismissal.
I bolted to my feet, mortified that I’d been caught ogling.
All of a sudden, I didn’t want to be in the same vicinity as him.
He was in every bit of my business, and it was fucking with my mind, not to mention my libido.
Confused and embarrassed didn’t even begin to describe how I felt.
I needed some space. But my body had a different idea.
Pain gripped my belly, my guts squeezing so hard, I almost fell to my knees.
Shit, if I was going to collapse, I wasn’t doing it here in front of everyone.
I already looked feeble enough. There was no way I wanted to look any weaker in front of the strongest of my kind, shifters like Connor and Owen.
And I definitely wouldn’t collapse in front of the Count.
It took everything I had to straighten even a little, but I managed to shuffle into the shadows away from everyone.
They were all so busy with each other and the celebration that no one noticed my departure into the darkness.
Another wave of pain consumed me, and I staggered, almost falling to my knees in the soft sand.