Thirty-Three

450K 23.4K 10.9K
                                    

I dreamed I was sitting by the lake where Jacobi’s statues of the dead stood. It was bright outside; the sun gleamed over the water lightly. I watched the still lake, noticing how the unmoving water made it appear like glass. When I finally looked up, I turned to see her standing where I knew her statue was that night I first saw it.

Adelaide was watching me with her head tilted, very much alive and no longer a statue. Her pale blue eyes were calm for once, not desperate for me to listen to an important message or in pain. Still, I felt she wanted something.

“I told him about the letter,” I said quietly, “There was no letter. I don’t know what else to do.”

She only watched me a moment longer before lifting her hand up and pointing in the direction of more statues. When I looked, I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what she was indicating to. I glanced back at her and frowned.

“She’s waiting,” Adelaide’s voice called around me, as if they hadn’t come from her mouth but from thin air. I immediately went to ask who was waiting, but my dream fell away just as quickly.

I slowly woke without opening my eyes. I felt more comfortable than I had for a long time now and this alone made me reluctant to wake up further. I shifted in the bed I had awoken in and felt the hard muscles of another body next to me. Without hesitation, I rolled over and ran my hand over Xander’s chest, snuggling into him comfortably. He tensed immediately, but I ignored his surprise and breathed in deeply with content.

Where I was expecting that familiar mint with a hint of lavender to flood my senses, I was instead greeted with that earthy scent of the woods and an undertone of vanilla. I hesitated, tensing with uncertainty as a hand moved over my lower back to hold me against what I thought had been Xander’s form. My eyes fluttered open and I leaned my head back to look up at what I now recognized as Jacobi’s overly serious expression. My heart paused for a moment, appalled by my own stupidity.

I immediately attempted to remove myself from the situation, but Jacobi tensed into a solid prison, holding me still in his grasp. I blushed deeply, wanting to hide my face but definitely not choosing to do so into his bare chest.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed quickly, feeling my flesh being heated in each place his met mine. I noticed I was no longer wearing my dress, but instead was in what had been Jacobi’s shirt and my underwear. I honestly couldn’t feel any more embarrassed. “I thought you were…” I hesitated to continue, distracted by the look that flashed across his face.

“You thought I was Xander.” I didn’t answer, instead opting to watch his face curiously. While he was typically emotionless, I could notice a slight distinctive look in his eyes that I wasn’t used to seeing. He appeared… disgruntled. “Do you often crawl into his arms so willingly?” I blinked, confused by his question. And then I was slightly offended.

“What exactly are you implying, Jacobi?” I asked darkly.

“I know Aveline and Xander like their ménage à trois. You wouldn’t be the first.”

I couldn’t possibly get any redder than I was at that point. “They might have offered, not that it’s any of your business, but I’ll have you know I refused them each time,” I snapped, pushing my hands against his chest and kicking at him in an attempt to be released. What was up with people holding me prisoner when I’ve just woken up? “And unlike you they’re not rapists who fuck innocent girls until they’re broken leftovers. Let me go!”

I probably should have chosen my words a little more wisely because rather than releasing me, I was abruptly pinned down on my back with Jacobi on top of me. He held my wrists above my head against the bed, glaring down at me with relentless anger.

Struck (A Vampire Novel) ✔Where stories live. Discover now