Sold to the Night Lord
My birthday 160
bChapter /bb160 /b
Truthfully, I haven’t heard from Walter since my visit, nor have I tried to visit again. I’ve been too busy training with Abraxas and practicing with Atarothz at dawn. Silence settles in the carriage, and I don’t know if it’s the jolting or umted fatigue, but I feel dizzy–and starving. Famished.
I hear the horses neigh as they’re reined in, and the carriage door opens immediately. Ciro gestures for me to exit first. I haven’t yet set foot on the step when a scarred hand offers to help me. I examine the hand first, tracing all the scars with my eyes, then follow the arm upward until I meet an unfamiliar face. I’ve never seen eyes so pale green. The rest is just as striking: sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline, full lips, a nose that looks like it’s been broken, and a scar through one eyebrow that contrasts slightly with his iivory /iskin. Far from diminishing his appeal, it enhances it. The whole image is utterly captivating.
“Abraxas will stay close in case you need him,” Ciro’s voice announces behind me.
I look again at those eyes–not only are they incredibly green, but they shine. Shine with life, something I’ve never seen in Abraxas’s eyes
until now.
“This is Abraxas?”
Both brothers let out low chuckles.
“So you’ve been toying with ra, huh?” Ciro murmurs so softly that if I were human, I wouldn’t have heard it.
I’m still stunned. Abraxas does a good job ignoring my expression of shock and, with a sly smile, vanishes, pulling a hood over his head.
“He doesn’t like to attract attention.”
“I don’t think the hood helps much with that,” Iment.
“Don’t worry. He knows how to remain in the shadows.”
Yes, I’m sure he does, I think.
I walk into the mansion on Ciro’s arm. I should be used to this setting by now, having seen it more than once. Naked or half–naked women are everywhere, just like the jugs and fountains of blood where the bolder ones don’t hesitate to dip a finger and raise it to their mouths with ecstatic expressions. From the ceiling hang red silk ribbons, and women I immediately recognize as human dance and sway sensually upon them. Everyone at the party is clustered in little groups and doesn’t hesitate to whisper when they see us enter.
I doubt I’ll ever get used to that part.
No one needs to tell me–Cassian is here. I can feel his presence all over my skin.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
Iarch a brow, half curious, half teasing.
“Are you sure there’s something I can drink?”
“You’re not the only human here, remember?b” /b
He winks and walks off to speak to someone I assume is a servant, who nods repeatedly before hurrying away.
You look absolutely exquisite.
I try to suppress the smile forming on my lips.
bIsn’t /bthat something you say about food?
I think I’ve devoured you more than once your lips, your neck, and a little further down… those lips too…
My cheeks burn. I can feel his voice purting inside my head, like he’s toying with the threads in my mind, stroking them until I shudder
Where are you?
Behind you. He picks up on my intent immediately. Don’t turn around–I’ve got a wonderful view from here.
I’m wearing a dress. You can’t possibly see anything.
I see the full curve of your back, that pale, delicate skin I’d mark with my lips and teeth if I could right now, and oh, the promise of a perfect ass. I’d say I see more than enough.
If I thought my cheeks were burning before, it’s nothingpared to now. I’m sure I’ll burst into mes any second.
Ciro’s hand keeps me grounded, snapping me back to reality. He presents me with what looks like a bubbling ss of champagne. I take it by the stem and wet my lips under his pleased gaze.
It doesn’t take long before he speaks again.
“How about a dance?” He looks at me with hopeful eyes. “I think it’s a better idea than standing around getting stared at, don’t you bthink/bb?/b”
“Honestly, I’m tired of all those stares.”
“Then let’s go.”
1 slide my hand onto his, and we glide elegantly toward the center, where other couples are dancing far more wildly. In the back of my mind, I
feel Cassian’s fingers brushing and a low animalistic growl. I try to mentally shush him—not that it’ll work. I can feel his gaze scorching the back of my neck.
Ciro is an excellent dancer–every step full of grace and precision–and I hear the huffs of some women watching him dreamily and me with murderous ieyes/i.
“You’re very popr among thedies,” I say.
“You iknow /iwhy,” ihe /ireplies, not even ncing at them. “It means nothing to me. Those aren’t the gazes I want.”
“What do you mean?”
He twirls us across the floor, his hands firm on my waist and my arms around his neck. The aerial dancers move around us like part of a dream.
“I don’t want lust–I want love. iYou /ialready know that.”
Looking into his eyes, I almost see a boy. A boy desperate to be loved, to belong. I feel a deep sorrow in my chest knowing I can’t give him
what he wants. I know I never will.
“Sometimes love starts with desire,” I suggest.
“Not for them,” he whispers into my ear.
“Then why was it different with Neera?”
“I’m beginning to think I was wrong.” He steps forward and I step back, following the choreography. “Thank you, ra. I like talking to byou/b.
b14:10 /bbSat/b, b9 /bbAug /b
You’re wiser than you let on. I’ll miss our conversations.”
The string instruments lower their tempo as a new song begins. He stops, looking at me with those pink eyes, so otherworldly and beautiful. He takes a step toward me, and my heart pounds in my chest–I can taste his sadness. I’m fairly certain he’s about to kiss me, and I know ! have to stop him–for everyone’s sake.
I’m more than ready to pull away from his arms when a loud crash draws everyone’s attention–including ours. One of the servants must’ve been startled, sending a tray full of blood–filled sses flying. Crimson and shards of ss coat the floor.
I search for the cause of themotion-
And then the blood in my veins begins to boil.
A Pureblood, whose name I don’t know and won’t care to learn once he’s dead, has a dagger pressed to Cassian’s neck.
“Kill him,” I hiss inside my head, full of rage.
“Easy, little wildcat.”
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