Page 37 of Entombed By Blood
His words, and lack of judgement, cut off my shame spiral at its knees. I’m almost relieved to have my mind fall back into the pattern of predicting Cain’s moves.
He’s making the first move with this visit. Hoping to unbalance me and catch me off guard while my mind and body are weak. He’s picked early in the evening, so I’ll be struggling with the effects of the silver.
So I’ll need to look impeccable as a show of strength. I can’t do that in a bloodstained robe.
“I’ll need to dress. Where are the maids?”
A cold smirk plays at the edges of Draven’s lips as he replies. “No one has maids anymore.”
“Clothes have evolved,” Gideon explains, taking pity on me. “There aren’t any ties to worry about, so there’s no need for attendants.”
I nod, relieved. The last thing I need right now is to accidentally drain a poor maid to death.
I spin on my heel and leave them without a word. One of the first things I learned at court is that awkwardness is best disguised by definitive action, so I don’t let myself falter as I push through the door of my wardrobe and face down the sea of red velvet within. I don’t even blink as I pick one of the identical dresses from the rack and then…
What are these?
I pick out a tiny, black slingshot made of lace from the drawer, snorting when I figure out it’s supposed to be underwear.
“This isnotfunny,” I mutter under my breath. “And what is this…?”
I hold out another scrap of lace that’s quite clearly designed for breasts with a sigh.
Nope. Not happening. Not only does it look like it requires a ridiculous level of flexibility to get it on, the cups are obscenely low. So low that my nipples would be playing peek-a-boo.
But that’s all that’s been provided, and I have to play the obedient daughter.
That means putting on this… whatever this is.
I’ve just managed to get into it when I find the next obstacle.
There are no garter ribbons.
I groan. Stockings haven’t changed—though they’re thin compared to the woollen ones I’m used to—so how the hell is anyone supposed to stop them from rolling down? Is this what the ribbon belt is for?
I manage to get the belt on, leaving ribbons trailing down over my thighs with no obvious way to attach them to the stockings. I’m still cursing modern tailors in my mind when a soft knock reverberates at my door.
“Come in and explain this dastardly contraption to me,” I snap, expecting either Vane or Silas.
When Draven walks in, I frown.
The vampire looks at me like he’s sizing up his next prey. His pale green eyes shimmer with humour as he takes in my body with one lazy sweep.
What is he thinking?I dare a quick peek at the thrall bond, despite knowing that it’s still in its infancy and unlikely to help me, only to recoil. Draven’s bond isn’t open, like Silas and Vane’s. Nor is it unfamiliar and strange, like my two mystery bonds. It’s not even blocked on his end like Gideon’s is.
It’scold. A living void between us. Like Draven doesn’t feel at all.
“Struggling, doll?”
I roll my eyes, silently trying to shake off the eerie emptiness of the bond between us. “This… ironmongery I’m expected to put on doesn’t work. How does anyone attach these?” I pull on the strange ribbons now hanging down from my waist. “To their stockings?”
Draven grins, the expression predatory in the extreme. “That,” he begins, stalking towards me, “I can help you with.”
He plucks one of the front ribbons out of my hand and, in a simple hooking motion, attaches it to the top of the stocking before making quick work of the one on my other leg as well. My body, still out of sync with my rational mind, reacts to the sight of him on his knees before me. My nipples visibly pebble against the lace, and my breathing turns shallow as anticipation throbs in my veins.
“Turn around.” How can he sound so unaffected?
I arch a brow at the demand, but comply, gasping as he trails the back ribbon against the sensitive skin of my ass.
