“Well said, pet,” I murmured, stroking my hand down his hair. He flinched slightly under my touch, but his breathing slowly evened out as I continued the ministrations.
“I believe my brother and I should take our leave for the night,” Crowe said softly, his gaze never leaving Sebastian’s bowed head. Draven growled and stalked from the room without a proper farewell, the door slamming shut behind him as Crowe pushed to his feet. “I thank you for the use of your library.” Crowe sketched a small bow. “I hope you are amenable to us returning tomorrow. I am aware of your mealtimes and will happily work around them.”
I inclined my head in a nod. “You may return as long as Sebastian or I are within these walls. You may not enter otherwise.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Surprise slammed into me, running across my face for the briefest of moments at his use of my title. He turned for the door, hesitating with his hand on the knob before turning back to look at me. “I will speak to Draven before we return. I apologize for the contention this evening, especially when you are doing us a favor by allowing us access to your library.”
“You both need to heed my warning.” A flush of anger tinted his cheeks, but he inclined his head at my advice.
“Draven is new here. He is not aware of the intricacies of diplomacy. I will ensure his behavior is controlled with you in the future if you can forgo punishing him for the day.” Crowe’s shoulders were stiff underneath his shirt, his mouth a sharp line on his face as he forced the words from his lips.
“I may at some point bite him for his attitude” —no matter how hot it made him, I added silently to myself— “but killing a witch is not high on my list. I would much rather focus on my work than deal with the intricacies of handling a witch’s death. Most of my kind will have no issues with torturing him for his disrespect. He needs to learn quickly, or at least learn to only speak his mind in his own chambers. Even then, you never know who may be listening.” Crowe bowed again, unable to reply to my counsel, before he left the room, letting the door close softly behind him.
“You didn’t maim them.” Sebastian’s comment was quiet, and I turned to meet his eyes.
“They’re witches. Most are too full of themselves for their own good.” I considered the stack of books I still had to go through versus the hunger I could already feel gnawing in the pit of my stomach. The hunger was one of the worst parts of being a vampire. It was constant, only relenting for short periods after our meals. I didn’t like being controlled by anything, let alone my own body. I tried to delay the hunger for as long as I could, hoping, despite evidence, that I could train my body to do without. “If I took the time to bite them all into submission, I’d never get the taste out of my mouth.” I shuddered at the idea. The witch blood I’d had in the past had been foul and far from fulfilling. His lips turned up in a quick smile, shifting him from adorably appealing to flat out sexy, and I swallowed as a new type of hunger tore its way through me. We’d been working for hours together since my return from dinner, and I could still taste his blood in my mouth, the rich flavor a heady tease. I wanted another taste of him, to drink deep until this burn inside of me was soothed.
Sebastian’s eyes widened, his pencil dropping to the desk as he took in my famished expression. “You’re hungry.” His words were a whisper as he shifted in his seat, his gaze not leaving mine.
“I am.” There was no point in denying it. I knew my eyes would be darker now, my fangs extended in preparation for tearing into skin. I could hear his heartbeat speed up, see the way his chest pumped more rapidly as he watched me, waiting to see what I would demand of him. “But I don’t give into my urges that easily.” He visibly relaxed, his heartbeat slowing. “I’ll feed from you in the morning, after I’ve slept,” I warned, letting him know this reprieve wasn’t forever.
His teeth gritted, but he slowly inclined his head. “Yes, mistress.”
“I prefer my own sleeping quarters, so go to your own bed for now. I’ll call for you if I need you,” I informed him, pushing to my feet and setting my things neatly aside for the next day. “I’ll ring for you in the morning. Come prepared to work. I’ll review everything I’m looking for with you then.” I brushed a hand down the soft silk of my pajamas and headed for my bed as Sebastian moved to the door.
“Goodnight, mistress,” Sebastian said stiffly, bowing deeply as he closed the door behind him.
I swallowed, fighting the hunger that made me want to call him back, to order him into my bed for me to sate all the desires plaguing me. But I wouldn’t. Not today, at least.
Chapter Three
Crowe
“That, that vampire,” Draven snarled, slamming his fist into the wall of our bedroom, shattering the wood. I murmured a spell on instinct, the wood popping itself back into place, the splinters sliding back together again as though his anger had never been unleashed on it. Draven didn’t even seem to notice the blood dripping down his hand, landing with soft plops on the floor as he paced.
“She definitely wasn’t what we had been warned about,” I replied dryly, tossing myself down onto the crimson velvet comforter that decorated my bed as I watched my brother. Draven grimaced, too worked up to settle into his own bed across from mine.
“How dare she threaten us. Does she have any idea who we are? I don’t care if she’s some leech princess, we’re the next in line to lead our coven, that’s nothing for her to sneer at.” He kicked at the dark maple nightstand beside his bed, and again I spelled the damage away.
“If you’re going to break things all night, can you stick to one area? It’s a little easier for me to spell the damage away so it’s not discovered,” I remarked dryly, watching him stride across our room. Despite the two of us sharing, our room was a fraction of the size that Elsie’s had been, and no rare books decorated the bare walls. The room was created solely for function, not for indulgence. The deep closet was enough for our clothing, and the built-in cabinetry held most of the supplies we needed for our witchcraft. A small, electronic fridge held the blood we used in our spells, which was a step up from both the spelled cabinets some witches utilized or the bodies of water others of us used in an attempt to keep the blood from rapidly spoiling. The two large beds that dominated the room—mine in crimson, and Draven’s in a midnight blue so dark it was nearly black—were the only real indulgences within these walls. Not that we needed much more than that. Even with its smaller size, there was still plenty of room here for our needs.
Draven huffed, shoving his hair away from his eyes, ignoring the blood that streaked his face as he tugged his dagger from its sheath, flipping it into the air. Ah well, I could heal him too if it came to it, though it wasn’t likely he’d want me to. There was a reason Draven kept away from others... “How are you so calm?”
I shrugged, settling against the mound of pillows behind my head. “She was right.”
“That parasite?” He stared at me as though he didn’t even know who I was, the red lightning in his eyes nearly overtaking his irises as his magic fought to be unleashed, the flicks spiraling his dagger into the air growing more erratic. With Draven around, I never had to wonder how I looked when I was angry. I knew I was a clear reflection of my twin. Would Bran have looked more like Draven or me right now? I pushed the thought away, locking it into the dark recesses of my mind. I couldn’t let myself think of him.