Page 32 of The Pureblood Princess
Nadia’s heart keeps time, her breathing synchronized with Theodore’s. He guides her effortlessly—her sentinel, her steward, her king. The cut of his jaw is sharp in the candlelight, and the brush of his dark lashes against his olive cheeks makes her want to press her lips to the delicate skin beneath his eyes and wrap him in an embrace for eternity.
This, she realizes, must be love. This is what drives poets and novelists to put ink to paper, what keeps composers and artists awake past the midnight hour, setting their souls aflame.
This is what she has always wanted, and now he’s here, in her arms,hers.
His gaze, so green, moves from her eyes to her lips, and as the waltz comes to an end, Theodore dips Nadia to the floor and presses a kiss against her mouth.
He tastes of wine and blood, and the alcohol singing through her veins makes her hungry for him. Back home, a kiss on a dance floor is unheard of, but here, in this rose-filled ballroom swathed in candlelight and shadow, it feels as if all propriety falls away, and Nadia indulges. She reaches up and pushes her fingers through the hair at Theodore’s nape, then catches his lower lip between her teeth and bites down until blood slips onto her tongue. He flinches, and then he swoops her onto her feet and deepens their kiss, his chest rumbling with desire.
“I daresay you are luminous, Miss Magdalena,” says a low voice, and Nadia pulls away from Theodore’s mouth.
Konrád stands beside them, Marek and Honora lurking just beyond his shoulder, and his blue eyes are sharp and frigid despite the warm candlelight. He lifts Nadia’s hand and presses a kiss against it, prompting Theodore to let out an almost inaudible growl.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt, Lord Rosetti,” Konrád says, lowering Nadia’s hand and straightening his shoulders. “But you can’t mean to keep the most beautiful woman in the room all to yourself, now can you?” He steps back and gestures to the ballroom, and Nadia finally casts her gaze about the room.
The onlookers watch closely, lurking at the edge of the dance floor, their hungry eyes all focused on Nadia.
Everyone is looking at me, she says to Theodore, and he shifts a step closer, his fingers tightening about her waist.
He’s right,iubit. I cannot keep you all to myself.His voice in her head is irascible, and she can feel the restraint he’s trying to uphold.They’re waiting for you.
She looks up, and a spot of blood is visible on his lip where she bit him. His eyes, narrowed and scanning the ballroom as if for danger, make Nadia’s heart flutter, and she reaches down to squeeze his hand.
Then let us meet them.
Face softening, Theodore nods. His hand moves to the small of her back, and he guides Nadia past Konrád, around the simmering Honora and indifferent Marek, and into the fold of anxious onlookers.
The onslaught is instantaneous and all-consuming. Vampires swarm around Nadia, saying how good it is to meet her, expressing condolences for her late parents. They make to reach out and touch her, but Theodore lurks over her shoulder, and perhaps his presence is why they retract their curious hands.
More than once, Nadia is told how alike her mother she looks, with her dark hair and striking blue eyes, and how she has her father’s nose. All these people around her, with their wine-stained lips and bloodstained fangs, seem to know more about her than even she does, and it becomes dizzying, disorienting.
They knew her mother, her father. These are the people she should’ve grown up around, the society she should’ve kept. But instead, they’re strangers, faces flashing by one after another, becoming lost as quickly as they appear.
It feels like a wave is rising, cresting, just about to crash over her head and pull her under. She wants to escape, to hide from the prying eyes and smiling mouths, but there’s nowhere to run.
And then there’s a hand on the small of her back, and Theodore moves close so that she can feel him pressing against her.
“Come,” he whispers, his mouth close to her ear. His breath tickles, and it sends goose bumps across her bare skin.
She nods once.
Raising his voice, Theodore addresses the gathered crowd. “You’ll all have a chance to make Miss Magdalena’s acquaintance, but I must steal her away from you now.”
Those who haven’t had the chance to greet Nadia protest with narrowed eyes and irritable sighs, but she’s ever grateful as Theodore guides her away, one hand still on the small of her back, the other held out to part the sea of vampires as they pass through the crowd.
They make it out of the throng, and Nadia feels she can finally catch her breath.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “That was . . . overwhelming.”
“Forgive me,” Theodore says, and he bends down to press his lips to her temple. “I shouldn’t have let them get so close. I suppose I enjoyed watching them fawn over you.” He snags a strand of her hair and twirls it around his finger, and she feels his warm gaze as it travels the length of her body. His attention makes her momentarily forget about everyone else in the ballroom, and she steps closer, wanting to taste his lips once more.
“Miss Magdalena,” a voice says, and Nadia starts, then turns to find the earl approaching. His eyes are bright, and his mouth is turned upward into an excited smile. “I think it’s time I introduced you to the brotherhood.”
Chapter Twelve
Earl Rosetti leads Nadia away,Theodore trailing close behind. Curious gazes follow them, though the crowd parts to let them pass.
Nadia spots Contessa and Charlie in a darkened corner, their hands drifting across each other’s bodies, Charlie’s mouth at Contessa’s throat. Contessa tips her head back, resting it against an elaborately carved column, and her dark hair spills down her back, her eyes closed and mouth open in a gasp of pleasure. Heat rushes into Nadia’s cheeks, and she turns her eyes quickly away.
