Page 90 of House of Crimson Hearts
I let out a moan of pleasure.
She leans into the crook of my neck. There’s a sharp sting as she sinks her fangs into me. A pulse of pain followed by an instant orgasm shoot through my body and into my clit.
My eyes fly open, I’m panting as I sit up. My heart is hammering so loud in my chest I swear I can hear it echoing around the room. I scan my surroundings trying to remember where the hell I am when the promises of last night filter back to me.
The Whisper Club.
The sketch.
The deal.
“Shit.” What the hell was I thinking? Of course I’d be safer in the Hunter Academy. This was a stupid idea.
Then the dream that shocked me awake moments ago flashes in my mind, vivid and carnal, and I groan. A fucking sex dream? Really? I slide my hand inside my knickers, realising I’m drenched. My pussy kind of feels tender like I did actually come over her in my dream. Is that even possible?
I groan again and get out of bed. I find a sports bra and jumper and slide them both on and decide to go for a walk. I check the clock; it’s 4:45 a.m. Not quite morning, but not quite nighttime anymore either.
I pull some socks on and find my trainers. Maybe I’ll go for a jog. I slip out of the guest room and try and find my way back through the insane rabbit warren that is Octavia’s mansion.
Unlike Cordelia’s home situated at the top of a mountain, Octavia’s castle is hidden in a forest, nestled against nature like it’s meant to be here. Green and claret-coloured ivy trails up the outer walls. Honeysuckle intersperses it, making the exterior of the castle smell sweet and edible.
I’m lost. I backtrack up a corridor, then a second and realise where I first went wrong, then manage to locate the central staircase.
I head downstairs and out into the garden. There’s a beautiful stillness at this time of night. The nocturnal animals are almost ready for bed, they’re quiet, their hunting for the night done, and the birds aren’t quite ready to wake up yet.
The sky is still dim, the depths of midnight giving way to a heavy navy and purple haze stroking the horizon like a paintbrush. I jog through her gardens, building up a nice sweat relatively quickly. I double back on myself, taking a different route through the gardens this time and admire the fact that someone obviously takes good care of them. They’re all pruned and preened and shaped neat. Some are square or rectangles. Two evergreen trees form an arch leading into a rose garden, but the trees are bent and trimmed to look like a set of fangs. It’s impressive even if it is gaudy.
Something heavy shifts behind me. I glance around but see nothing. Must have been a bunny.
But my skin prickles like I’m being watched. As my hand swipes my thigh, those prickles grow bigger as I realise I didn’t bring my stakes or blades. What the fuck was I thinking? I should know better than that. Idoknow better than that. I never go anywhere without some kind of weapon.
I lean against a bush and press my back into it while I squint into the darkness. But it’s not quite light enough for me to be able to see more than fifteen feet or so. I’m a sitting duck here. My back tingles.
Shit, shit.
I have enough experience with ambushes to know there’s definitely someone out there watching me.
Part of me wonders if it’s Octavia fucking with me. Trying to prove that there’s a reason I should have stayed in her room. That this is why I need her protection.
But I just don’t think she’d make that kind of joke.
So, I have two choices. I can stand and make it a fight. Call the attacker out and make it known I’m here.
Or I try and escape.
If I run and they have a weapon they can fire or throw, I’m screwed. But if I stay and have to fight without any weapons myself, I’m also fucked, unless I can disarm them.
Tick tock, Red. What are you going to do?
Fight.
The answer is always stand your ground and fight.
“Come out, come out wherever you are…” I say. “Games up, Fuckface.”
Perhaps antagonising the enemy before I know who they are isn’t the smartest idea, but then I always had a big mouth.
A laugh spills through the air. It’s deep and throaty.
