Page 87 of Undying
I’m already borderline insane with everything that’s happened in the last two months. All the horror I’ve endured is safely locked away in boxes in my mind. I fear just one shove will shatter what little sanity I have left.
“Two days to prepare.” I swallow hard, then lift my chin and pull back my shoulders, determination hardening my resolve. While I don’t want the crown, the thought of the vampires being allowed free rein feels like death’s icy fingers running down my spine. “It will have to be enough time for you to teach me what I need to know.”
Stanton rubs a hand across his mouth, avoiding my gaze, and I automatically tense, bracing myself for bad news. I take a threatening step toward him, then practically growl, “Don’t tell me you’re not going to come with me.”
Sending me into a den full of predators unprepared is like signing my own death warrant.
“Of course not.” He glares, his hands dropping to his hips, sounding almost offended at the thought, but I know better than to relax yet and wait him out.
It doesn’t take more than a minute for him to break. “We only have a day. Vampires use a different schedule than humans. The delegates will arrive early the morning of the event to avoid sunrise.”
Because of fucking course they do.
I heave out a sigh and rub my forehead, trying to ease the ache forming behind my eyelids.
“Come.” Milo holds out his hand. When I hesitate, his green eyes darken with sadness, but he doesn’t lower his arm. “Let’s get dressed for supper. I believe your wolves wanted to prepare something nice for you.”
A zing goes through me at the mention of the wolves.
My wolves.
I accept his hand, and he squeezes my fingers reassuringly, then immediately whisks me from the room. As soon as we leave, it’s like a bubble pops and the tension melts away. I didn’t realize I was so on edge. I look at Milo from the corner of my eye as he leads me up the stairs. “Is he always so…”
“Intense?” His lips twitch in a wry smile, humor twinkling in his eyes. “Yup.”
Drawn to his calm exterior, I edge closer, sighing in relief when I can almost taste his crisp apple scent on my tongue. I don’t realize that I’m leaning toward him, tempted to take a bite out of him, until he comes to a stop outside an unfamiliar door.
I’m so distracted that I nearly crash into him.
I straighten abruptly and look around, pretending that I haven’t been thinking about eating my friend.
A questioning look flashes across his face for a second, then he shakes away his curiosity. He clears his throat, practically bouncing on his feet, and flashes me a shy smile. “We know you don’t want to stay in the master bedroom, so the guys have been working on a new one.”
A touch of uncertainty enters his eyes, his grip tightening on the knob like he might change his mind about showing it to me. “It’s still a work in progress. A lot more needs to be done before it’s finished.”
His eyes lower submissively, his fangs chewing savagely on his bottom lip, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from the sharp tips.
I squirm, the skin along my neck pebbling with the need to feel his fangs nibbling along my flesh, and it’s a struggle not to let my imagination take control.
Who knew fangs could be so sexy?
Feeling overheated, I blow out a breath and struggle to get my libido under control so I don’t attack the poor man. Needing to soothe his anxiety like an itch just out of reach, I shuffle closer and hesitantly place my hand on his arm. His eyes immediately flash toward mine, then lock on me with so much hope that a lump forms in my throat.
“It means a lot that you and the others would go through so much trouble.” In fact, no one has even bothered to say more than a kind word to me since my parents died, not unless they wanted something from me in return, and my heart melts that they would do something so sweet.
I lean up, bracing my hands on his shoulders, then kiss his cheek, unable to keep my lips from lingering for an extra second. I reluctantly pull away before I do something stupid, like push him against the wall and take what I want. “Show me.”
He nods but doesn’t move, staring at my mouth as if the rest of the world ceases to exist, and I smile, charmed by his awkwardness. My stomach flutters at the thought of kissing him again, and I have to physically shake myself to rid that fantasy from my mind.
Twisting my fingers together to keep from reaching for him, I breathe lightly to avoid consuming any more of his delicious scent, then purposely look at the door behind him. “I suppose we should get ready for supper, or we’re going to be late.”
It’s been so long since I had supper with anyone that I feel a little awkward. Even before I turned, I was never an extrovert. With my fangs and special diet, I’m both curious and nervous about what it will entail.
Will I feed from one of them while everyone watches? I squirm at the idea. Maybe I should be embarrassed, but I nearly pant with lust from the idea. Then I remember the blood bags they gave me in the cell and grimace at the thought of drinking the slightly plastic-y taste that taints the blood. Or maybe I’m supposed to drink blood from a fancy goblet, and my lips curl as I contemplate drinking cold, stagnant blood.
So lost in thought, I don’t realize that Milo has opened the door until he clears his throat. I startle, and he flashes me an encouraging smile and holds the door open for me.
I hesitate, hating the sudden bout of nerves, like the course of my life will be altered if I step over the threshold. Which is silly, since the only constant in my life the last few months has been change.
