Penser (verb) to think
I gazed out the window at the small homes crowded beside the lake. Dusk had given way to night, but moonlight didn't reflect off the surface. It seemed to repel it. The blackness so complete that it looked more like a hole than water. A clear sign Diana frowned upon this place.
Sitting in silence, I contemplated how to proceed.
If Bastien caught me spying, it would do little to forge the trust I was supposed to be gaining. I had to tread carefully. I was playing a dangerous game with a vicious enemy. A game my family had been fighting for centuries.
We were so close to eradicating dark magick in the Conquered Territories.
Still, doubt prickled in the back of my mind. How could I avoid being heard? If I was caught and he sent me away, would Mama's choker kill me?
I shuddered at the thought, then quickly pushed aside my fear.
Shifting, I found Bastien studying me. He immediately focused on the table when he realized he'd been caught. Picking at a scratch in the wood with one of his long fingers.
I didn't know why, but the fact that he had been watching me caused a burst of heat and adrenaline to flush my cheeks. These simple moments between us made me feel so...warm, which infuriated me.
I hated him and his kind. Didn't trust them. Knew they sided with these dark witches more often than not. The fact that we were sitting inside a dark witch's den was proof enough. So why? Why did one little glance make me feel so...needy?
I went to pick up my tankard of mead, trying to cool myself, when the vampire pushed the mug out of my reach, shaking his head slightly.
Gaping at him, I said, "I'm thirsty."
He reached across the table, grabbed a pitcher and a cup, poured me a glass of water, and then pushed it into my hand.
I lifted a brow, taking the cup, and drinking slowly. Letting the cool liquid slide down my throat. Watching him as I did.
Why the refusal? He was demanding I eat. Mead had more calories than water.
I considered the full glass of wine sitting in front of him.
Mama never drank at coven gatherings because she insisted on keeping a clear head. I'd heard her lecture Sera a hundred times about how important it was for her to practice doing the same, although she rarely listened.
Did Bastien have the same philosophy? Did he want to remain sober because he was in charge? It was a plausible explanation. But why disallow me?
Then it hit me.
He wanted to feed, and he didn't want alcohol in my veins. Maybe it would affect him too.
I let that thought bounce around in my head. How could this play to my advantage?
If alcohol affected him as it affected me, then perhaps other things would, too.
A wicked plan took shape in my mind. One that might help dull his senses so that I could spy on him later tonight.
The only problem with my plan was that it wouldn't affect Natalia, so I'd still need to be careful, but something told me she wasn't as attuned to me as he was. Besides, she had drained a glass of wine at the table. Maybe she'd have another after her feeding.
It wasn't a perfect plan, and I had no idea if it would even work, but it was worth a try.
When I finished my stew and chewed as much of the black bread as I could stomach, I noticed he was staring at me again. His steady gaze impossible to look away from. Like a tether connecting us.
"Are you ready?" Bastien asked.
What he left unsaid had my spine straightening. Are you ready...for our feeding.
His lips would be on me again. Those soft lips. And his breath. And his hands. Holding me tight to him. Crushing our bodies together. Taking what he so desired from my body. The thought caused something hot to twist in my stomach.
Right now, I was the only person who could satiate him. This powerful, strong warrior prince. He might deny it, but he did need me. And knowing that I was desired and needed was intense.
But my family needed me, too. They needed me to keep my head and not allow whatever strange desire was burning between us to ruin my mission.
And familial obligation overrode everything else. Especially this feeling.
"Yes," I replied as casually as I could.
Bastien stood, offering me his hand. I stalled momentarily, collecting my thoughts and taking another sip of water. I needed time to procure some ingredients from my trunk, and I couldn't have him sinking his teeth into me beside the fire.
"Could we freshen up first? I'm filthy."
Bastien clenched his jaw. His throat bobbing as he swallowed. "Of course. Whatever makes you more comfortable." His hand extended an inch closer to mine, and reluctantly, I took it.
A jolt of excitement tore through me as he molded our palms together. His skin, while cool, was rough and calloused.
Heads turned as we walked across the dining room toward the staircase. Rowdy conversation dulled to whispers.
His nephew stood, nearly pushing his chair into the hearth fire, but Bastien merely waved him off when he approached with a grunt and a dismissive hand. The sour look on Tyson's face made me smile, and I dipped my chin and covered my mouth with a hand as not to offend him.
Bastien caught me smirking, and a smile kicked up one side of his lips.
"Didn't you enjoy your time with my nephew?" he asked as we ascended the stairs.
I took a second to consider how best to answer and decided on the truth.
"I've never met someone so...spoiled."
Bastien laughed, and a measure of guilt settled in my chest. Neither Tyson nor Okeri had been mean to me. They just weren't like anyone I'd ever met before. Quickly, I added, "I don't think it's his fault he is the way he is. If I'd grown up in a palace and been given everything, maybe I'd be the same way."
We stopped in front of a door, and Bastien extracted a key from inside his pocket, making quick work of the lock, but his hand paused on the door knob.
Turning, he said, "I grew up in a palace, and I'm not a spoiled little twat."
My brow rose playfully. "So says you."
He chuckled again, and, by Diana, the sound was deep and musical. Almost as entrancing as his scent, which carried notes of bergamot and fresh pine.
I had to restrain my own grin when he pushed open the door, and I saw my trunk sitting beside the bed. The worn burgundy fabric a welcome sight. I was sure his guard had searched it, but Mama had planned for that.
The grin fell from my lips when I noticed a black trunk beside mine. One that looked much more lavish, with gold detailing and buckles.
Gold and black. The colors of House Allard.
Suddenly, my throat ran dry.
"Bastien, whose trunk is that?" I asked.
The vampire cleared his throat. "It's mine."
My mouth fell open, and I couldn't stop a surprised breath from escaping my lips. There was only one reason why his trunk would be in my room.
"It is the custom for sanguine partners to share a room when traveling. For your protection," he explained. All humor gone. His face a stoic mask. "It would go against tradition if I stayed elsewhere. Especially since spitting us up would force one of my guards to stay in the stable."
While his intentions might be noble, they did nothing to quell my nerves.
"We wouldn't want to go against tradition, would we?" I said, throat dry. I ran my fingers through my hair, wanting to scream. I hadn't planned to share a room with him. "Could you give me a moment of privacy?"
Bastien nodded and exited the room, closing the door behind him. I expelled a tight breath that did nothing to relieve the ache in my chest. Share a room. With a vampire?
Diana. How was that going to work?
Flustered, I crossed the room quickly and opened my trunk. Now, more than ever, it was imperative that the sleeping draught worked. Rummaging through folded garments and supplies with shaking hands, I searched for the damned vial I was looking for. Tossing dresses and skirts on the floor as I did.
The only thing I could think about was sharing a room with Bastien. How could I sleep with him beside me? I couldn't. I'd have to sleep on the floor. Or not at all.
When my fingers closed around something smooth and cool, I wrenched it free, grateful it hadn't broken in travel.
"By your light, please let this work, Diana," I prayed, uncorking the small blue vial, dripping three drops of a sleeping draught on my tongue, letting the floral tasting liquid soak in.
I knew exactly how this draught affected me. I had thirty minutes before I'd be battling its effects. Bastien needed to feed on me during that time, which didn't seem like a problem, considering he was standing outside the door.
But I knew I needed to plan for contingencies. All would be lost if the draught lulled me to sleep while I was out spying. I needed something to counteract the effects. Thankfully, Mama had bid me to pack a small apothecary. I found the pouch of telareyon root powder, which would negate the tiredness and give me the energy to carry out my mission.
To give the notion that I had freshened up, I quickly changed my clothes, donning a sleeping shift and robe, and splashed some clean water from a basin on the dresser on my face. Toweling off the droplets. The telareyon root tucked safely inside my pocket.
I looked at myself in the mirror, smoothing the wispy strands of silver lilac hair around my face until I looked presentable. Now, all that was left was to endure the feeding.
Nerves twisted inside my belly, causing my heart to beat faster. A thin sheen of sweat collected behind my neck, where my hair hung heavy and loose. I couldn't pass out. I had to maintain my constitution through this. I had to push aside this phobia to spy on the vampire and learn what I could about the relics.
I'd seen what a body cursed by dark magick looked like. Smelled cursed flesh charring from the inside out. Heard the wails of my aunts and uncles. Of my mother. Felt grief seep into my very bones, infecting me from the inside out.
All the while, vampires like Bastien watched on. Taking no action against these wicked witches.
I'd promised my sister I'd do anything to keep her alive. Brave, beautiful Sera. The Witches of Darkness must be stopped at any cost.
Even if I was that cost.
I opened the door to my bed chamber, anticipating the vampire to swoop in, crush me against his body, and sink his teeth in me, but he didn't so much as move. He just stared at me, a slightly dazed look on his face as his eyes drifted down my body. A slow, lazy perusal that I could feel everywhere.
He was drinking me in. Just, not in the way I'd expected. My nipples pinched into hard peaks as his gaze rolled over my breasts.
I rolled my shoulders back and lifted my chin, trying to ignore how delicious it felt to be desired and pretend to be unbothered by him.
"I'm ready," I said in a bare whisper, but I knew he could hear me as if I screamed it. I stepped out of the way to allow him inside. "Do you want to come in?"
The sound of my voice seemed to jolt him from his daze.
"Your robe..." he replied, stepping close and grabbing the loose sash that, in my haste, I'd forgotten to tie. Embarrassment caused heat to spread across my cheeks and down my neck.
He situated the robe to cover me better, then went to work tying the sash. As he made a knot around my waist, his fingers brushed against my low stomach, and a shiver of pleasure rolled down my spine, once again, settling squarely between my thighs. Softening my flesh and turning it slick.
I hadn't anticipated that reaction. Or how good it felt.
For someone whom I despised so deeply, his touch ignited something I couldn't ignore.
When Bastien was done tying the knot, he tested it to ensure it was secure by slipping a finger under the sash and tugging, which pulled me against him. I gasped, my hands splaying out on his hard chest to catch myself.
I looked up, lips slightly parted, to find a hungry look in his eyes. My toes curled into the soft carpet as I rose on the balls of my feet, causing our bodies to slide over one another. My nipples ached as they rubbed against the fabric of my shift.
Every muscle inside me tightened and melted against him at the same time.
"Thank you," I said. Not sure what else to say.
"You're welcome."
He didn't pull away, nor did I, but something stiffened between us. Something hard that pressed against my stomach. Something that my body instinctively leaned into.
Oh. Oh.
I forced myself to steady my gaze on his. Taking in every inch of him to distract myself from that hardness. Ignoring it.
His blond hair was still pulled back, allowing me to fully look at him. To see him. This close, his eyes were as clear and blue as the water that lapped at the shore near the falls of Amara, my favorite place in the whole world. Especially when the sun kissed my bare skin, and the breeze was warm.
I blinked slowly, and my surprise spread into a lazy smile. My eyelids growing heavy.
He made me feel warm. Just like the sun. Even though that was ridiculous. What was I thinking? He wasn't warm at all. He was my enemy.
I shook my head to clear the fantasy. The sleeping draught. It was already working. I needed him to strike and take his fill of me before I was too tired to function.
"Are you ready to come in now?"
"Get your cloak," Bastien replied, his silky voice whispered over my skin and kissed my lips. "And put on some slippers. I want to show you something."
"Are we not doing the feeding?" I asked, pushing my brows together.
"We are. Just not here."
The clock is ticking! Will Claire be able to trick Bastien before it's too late? Do you think her plan will work?
Question: What's your favorite thing about vampires?
Mine? The living forever thing. I would do so much traveling if I was a vampire. Live a lifetime in one place only to move to another and do it all over again.