Chapter 2
Annika
Iwait in one of the dining rooms in the residence, my knee anxiously bobbing beneath the mahogany table that’s large enough to seat twelve.
Anxiety bubbles in my chest. It has everything to do with my newly surfaced powers and absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the king ordered Dagon to be my new teacher.
Dagon. The hunter.
The insanely gorgeous and equally infuriating hunter. The same one who saw me naked last night thanks to my power going rogue while I bathed.
Mortification ripples through me at the memory.
I love my body, but him seeing me naked and in such a vulnerable position is a new level of embarrassment I didn’t know existed.
I’m the daughter of Katya Sorokin, of the Sorokin line, for fuck’s sake.
Niece of Olivia Sorokin, who’s not only the princess’s bodyguard, but also mated to one of the king’s right-hand Onyx Assassins.
I come from a long line of females who watched over the hunters for centuries.
Power runs in my family. Harnessing a new ability to control water should be easy for me to handle.
But I haven’t been handling it.
Not even a little bit. Which led to Oliva practically begging Dagon to work with me, which he refused until the king ordered him to.
I pretend not to be offended by him acting repulsed at the very idea of helping me learn to control my power.
I have no idea why he feels the way he does.
Maybe he finds the task beneath him? Maybe he doesn’t like the idea of teaching me—one of the females responsible for ensuring he and his brothers stayed locked in a chamber in stasis for centuries.
But if that was the case, wouldn’t he understand the lengths my family had gone to ensure his safety while he slept?
I guess it doesn’t matter. Either way, I need help. And he’s the only person who understands the power I now have.
Dagon asked me to meet him here. That must count for something.
Even if he is late.
I force my knee to stop bouncing, smoothing my hand up and down my thigh and relishing the leather that covers it.
Edgemont is always cold in December, snowing almost daily.
These fur-lined leggings are a godsend, especially when the residence is never warm enough, in my opinion.
Vintage stonework is beautiful and captivating, but sometimes it feels like it leeches all the heat from the air.
The cream sweater I wear is oversized and cozy, hanging past my hips, the sleeves almost encompassing my hands.
I’d tried on three different outfits before settling on this one.
The first two had been formal attire, something my mother would likely advise I wear when taking lessons from an esteemed hunter, but I opted for comfort.
After all, he’s already seen me naked and totally out of my depth, so who cares what he thinks of me now?
Footsteps sound outside the door, and I hold my breath. He’s being loud on purpose. Likely so he doesn’t startle me. I’ve seen him around the residence enough to know he doesn’t make a sound if he doesn’t want to. None of the hunters do.
Seconds later, the door to the dining room swings open, and Dagon walks through it.
The light from the hallway casts a golden glow that falls over him like it’s desperate to highlight all of his better features.
It spills over his dark blond hair that hangs just below his ears in this perfectly messy way.
A rough goatee lines his strong jaw, and the sharp blue of his eyes is so striking they’ve made me forget to breathe a time or two.
He wears hunters’ gear—dark, sturdy jeans, a black long-sleeved henley, and a leather jacket.
A harness strapped with guns he doesn’t really need thanks to the elemental powers he controls and sturdy black boots round out his modern-day badass look.
You’d never know he’s ancient by just looking at him.
He and the rest of his hunter brothers adjusted to modern times so quickly mainly due to Ajax’s time-control powers.
I’d be impressed, if he wasn’t such an arrogant prick.
“Annika,” he says by way of greeting, his tongue wrapping around my name in a way that’s both affectionate and annoyed, if that’s possible. Likely one of his hunter skills—to be both disarming and intimidating in one move.
Heat spirals through my body, a fiery cascade that makes me flush. It happens every time I lay eyes on the bastard. It’s a shame such a cocky male resides in all that gorgeous packaging.
“You’re late,” I say boldly, and mentally applaud myself when my voice doesn’t crack.
“Had to get training supplies for our first lesson,” he says smoothly, holding up a crystal glass filled with water.
He sets it down in front of me. “Show me what you can do.” He takes a seat three down from me, propping his booted feet on the table, his strong arms folded over his chest as he studies me.
“What?” I ask, eying the glass of water, then him. “You’re not serious.”
His eyebrows raise, an amused grin shaping those full, delicious lips.
No, not delicious. Devious. Prickish lips.
“What did you expect?” he asks. “That I’d assign you a few chapters from How to Wield Your Newfound Elemental Power and we’d be done for the night?”
I scrunch my brow. “That’s not a thing,” I say. “Is it?”
He chuckles as he shakes his head. “No, it isn’t.”
My lips part. “I thought you’d take me to Edgemont River, at the very least.”
Dagon’s grin widens. I hate the way it lights up his eyes. “You’re not ready for the river.”
Ouch.
I mean, he’s not wrong. But, ouch.
“Water,” he says, nodding to the glass. “Move it.”
“How?” I ask after staring at the water for a few seconds.
“How do you breathe?”
I glare at him.
“How do you blink or stretch or run?”
“How do you?” I throw the asinine question back at him.
He tosses an incredulous look right back at me. “I know you’re used to having everything done for you, being a Sorokin female and all, but I can’t use your powers for you.”
I gape at him. “Is that why you’re a prick to me? Because of who my family is?”
Dagon shrugs. “I’m a prick by nature,” he explains. “Your family has nothing to do with it. I just know how rich, noble vampires can be when forced to do anything themselves—”
“First off,” I snap, standing up so fast the chair tips over behind me. “You don’t know anything about me.”
He smirks.
The infuriating grin has white-hot anger bubbling in my chest. The sensation spreads throughout my insides as I move to tower over him.
“And that noble family you want to turn your nose up at kept you safe for centuries.” I shake my head.
“I helped keep you safe.” I narrow my gaze at him.
“You. Ajax and Talon and Zachariah and Saint and Samuel. All of you. We ensured no one found you, and trust me, plenty tried. I checked on your vitals and kept your fucking chamber clean, for fucks’ sake—”
“Annika,” he says my name with such a softness that it shakes the anger right out of me. He nods behind me and I follow his gaze.
The water in the glass is bubbling. No, it’s boiling.
I suck in a sharp breath, watching as it immediately goes still again.
“You feel that?” he asks.
I look back at him. He’s still sitting there so casually, totally unfazed by my outburst. I search inward, feeling a soft buzzing in the depths of my soul.
“Sort of?” I answer.
Did he rile me up on purpose?
“Good,” he says. “Hold on to that. Feel your power and guide it.”
“So simple.” I roll my eyes and right my chair before dropping into it.
“Nothing about power is simple,” he says.
Clearly. I’d been ready to send him flying across the room for his jab at my family. Does he really feel that way? Or was he trying to provoke me? With the way those blue eyes flicker with equal parts amusement and mischief, I’m banking on the latter.
I recenter myself, focusing on the liquid. The faster I learn how to control my power, the quicker I can be rid of these embarrassing lessons. That’s motivation beyond control, and I try my best to do what he says. Thanks to my experience with meditation, I’m able to focus inward a bit more.
From the anger moments ago, I can feel a thread of power pulsing through me like a signature sensation in my soul.
It’s a low hum, a soft vibration that’s begging for attention, but it feels so far away.
Reaching mentally, I do my best to grab that sensation and throw it at the water, picturing it boiling again.
I visualize it sloshing over the crystal rim.
Nothing.
“Staring at it certainly isn’t working.” I blow out a breath. “How do you control water?” I ask.
Dagon cocks a brow at me, looking contemplative before he shifts his boots off the table. He slides out of his chair, slowly walking toward me.
I swallow hard, hating the way my body reacts to his nearness as he leans over me where I sit. God, he smells good, like ylang-ylang, amber, and blood oranges. I linger on every delicate note of that scent, the signature of it solidifying somewhere deep inside me.
“Tell me what you were doing last night.” His tone is a little lower than usual, and the question throws me. “When you turned your bathroom into Elsa’s palace.”
I snort at the Disney reference, then clear my throat.
“Nothing,” I answer a little too quickly.
It’s a lie.
I’d been doing…something very specific before I’d gotten out of the tub.
He tilts his head. “You were just standing in the bathroom and then out of nowhere you froze everything?”
I huff. “No,” I say. “I was taking a bath.”
“Obviously,” he says. “I’m glad you showed up with your clothes on today.”
Heat blazes across my cheeks.
“What were you thinking about when you were bathing?”
Is it possible to burst into flames from embarrassment? Because I’m pretty damn close. I press my lips together, silencing myself, but the memory floods me easily enough.