Never, she whispers back.
A limousine idles by the curb. The back door is open, like a beckoning hand, and a lavender-eyed driver stands next to it. Seeing him causes a pang of longing, and I wonder if Alexei is still driving Valerie around, or if they’ve given him new responsibilities. Are they being kind to him? Has he found someone to teach his carving to?
“I may be immortal, halfling, but you’re not,” a familiar, arrogant voice says from behind. I realize I’ve been staring at the driver, who stares back at me with a bewildered expression. My cheeks feel hot as I throw a glare at Noah over my shoulder, then get into the limo. The bounty hunter does the same, filling the confined space with his scent and his presence. The driver closes the door behind us.
“Did you bring the contacts?” I ask instantly, shamefully eager to cover the true color of my eyes. Once he’s seated, Noah takes a small case out of his pocket and hands it to me without comment. Luckily, I’ve put contacts in before, for Halloween costumes and theme nights at Crimson. I dig a compact mirror from my clutch and go about putting the green contacts in.
It’s disorienting, when I gaze at my reflection a minute later. Staring back at me is the person I thought I would be. The person I dreamed of being.
But if I’d Awoken with green eyes, I never would have known the suffering of a Lavender. Never would have known the Vampire King’s true nature. Never would have met Drew. Never would have known the truth about the rebellion. Princess Charlotte would have stayed in her pretty gardens, believing the dismissive lies her daddy told her.
If I had the choice now, would I still want that comfortable life? Would I still prefer the blissful naiveté?
I close the compact mirror on my frowning reflection.
Silence—broken only by the soft exhale of heat coming from the vents—surrounds us while Noah tugs at the ends of his sleeves. I tear my gaze away from him, trying not to think of our kiss for the thousandth time. An impossible feat, considering we’re in a dark, confined space together.
The car takes a sharp turn, then, and a garment hanging near the door sways. I touch the plastic and give Noah a questioning look. “Sylvia loaned you one of her gowns,” he says distractedly, frowning at his phone.
“You couldn’t tell me that before we left the hotel?” I mutter as I unzip it. Despite my annoyance with Noah, whose smirk is made more prominent by the glow of his screen, I can’t pretend not to feel a rush of relief—facing my family will be so much easier if they have no idea I’m there. But… there isn’t exactly a bathroom to change in.
I shoot Noah another glare. “Keep your eyes on that phone, Forrest.”
He doesn’t acknowledge me. Seeing no other alternatives, I yank my dress off and quickly reach for Sylvia’s. Now that I’m holding it, I actually study it, and the design is stunning. Made from champagne-colored tulle, the bodice is constricted, accented by a long bouffant skirt. It looks like something my cousin would design from her high-end fashion company in Sul. What is a bounty hunter doing with a gown like this?
Regardless, I make a mental note to thank Sylvia the next time I see her.
As I shimmy into the extravagant gown, I can sense the heat of Noah’s gaze. He’s watching me, and despite my command to keep his eyes down, I can’t seem to call him out. The small space fills with words unsaid, touches unmade. Suddenly it’s difficult to breathe and I feel weak.
I feel even more so when, a moment later, a blush creeps its way up my neck. I finish pulling the gown on and drag my thick curls over one shoulder, then struggle with the zipper. It must be caught on something, though, because it won’t go any farther than halfway. I swallow a sigh and keep struggling, my arms bent at awkward angles.
“Are you being stubborn or stupid?” Noah asks. “I can’t tell.”
It seems impossible that he doesn’t sense the war raging inside me. Doesn’t sense my desire to abandon caution and reason. Noah Forrest is a bright, beautiful flame, and drawing closer to him would only burn me in the end. “Fine. Help me, damn it,” I growl, presenting my back to the vampire.
There’s a pause, so prominent that the air around us feels thicker. Noah closes the space between us, almost soundless in his movements. Predator. Vampire. Equal, the monster purrs—she has no qualms about whether or not to give in. But the human part of me keeps resisting.
Then Noah is behind me, assailing my senses with his scent. Soap and cologne and temptation. While his fingers grasp the zipper, Noah blows the bare skin along my shoulder. He’s not even touching me, and already there’s a throbbing between my legs. I feel the barest brush of the hunter’s lips as he replies, “Say ‘please’ and I’ll think about it.”
Cocky bastard. I’m rigid from want and denial. But my body is on fire and the war inside me has gone quiet. I also still need his help with the zipper, damn him. “Please,” I whisper.
Silence trembles around us again. I’m breathing hard, and the stillness makes this all the more noticeable. How does Noah always manage to make me feel like a teenager again?
Seconds tick by, marked only by every anticipatory inhale and conflicted exhale. Noah toys with the zipper, brushing his knuckles against my bare skin. My eyes flutter shut, and in the darkness, a flash of memory goes off like a bulb. Drew’s face, the night we stood in that alley, facing each other over inches that felt like miles. The stricken shadow in his eyes and the slash of pain that used to be his mouth. Guilt passes over me, dimming the blinding sense of want.
But then I feel Noah’s mouth toward the base of my spine. That’s all it takes—I forget everything else. And I hate myself for it.
Slowly, torturously, Noah follows the progress of the zipper, kissing his way upward. When he reaches my neck, he teases me with tongue and wandering hands. They trail down, around, and under the tulle skirt. I rest my head against his shoulder, tipping it back, eager for his fingers to claim me.
Noah’s phone blares into the silence.
That wicked mouth on my body goes still. I can sense Noah’s struggle, torn between answering his phone and finishing what we started. The interruption is exactly what I need, though, to regain reason. Remember why I shouldn’t fall for this vampire, in any capacity, no matter how simple it may seem. Even one romp with Noah will affect my head, my heart, and any capability of resisting him in the future.
“You should get that,” I manage, uncertain whether I’m relieved or furious at the interruption. Maybe both. No, definitely both. Noah pulls away, and the spots on my body where his mouth and hands, so hot just seconds ago, run cold.
“Yeah?” he says tersely into the phone. The screen’s glow puts a spotlight on how his eyes linger on me. Sickened by my weakness, by the fact that I want this asshole, especially after I just broke someone else’s heart, I look away.
As I turn, my gaze flicks past the window, and a flutter goes through me when I recognize where we are. The fog of lust retreats, and fear steps out.
Before I’m ready, those familiar, ornate gates appear. Tonight they’re wide open, but members of the Vampire King’s security team stand on either side, every one of them wearing full body armor and holding semi-automatics. I frown at the sight—Alexander must be worried about the rebels. He’s never displayed so much firepower at a mansion party.