VANE
My frown deepens as I check the silver face of my wristwatch for the tenth time. I fix my gaze on the front doors of the mansion, willing the princess to show up through sheer force of habit.
This is exactly why I've always preferred being single, or at the very least, attending these insufferable parties alone. Explain to me how a person can spend more than two hours simply putting on clothes.
'Patience, young warlock,' Lakh rumbles, his voice echoing with a smugness that grates on my nerves.
'My impatience is already wearing thin; I don't need your interference, Lakh.'
Lakh scoffs, a sound like grinding stones. 'Return me to the Goddess then, if I'm such a burden.'
As if I had any control over that, I muse. I fold my arms across my chest, legs crossed at the ankle as I lean against the passenger door of the black sedan.
The Goddess must have finally taken pity on my temper, because the door finally swings open. Grace steps out first, and like she knows I'm seconds away from firing her, she bows repeatedly. Her expression is a frantic mask of apology.
I ignore her, keeping my eyes fixed on the threshold, waiting for the missus to show herself.
And show herself she does.
My jaw goes slack as a vision of ethereal darkness steps onto the porch. The princess is a shadow given exquisite form.
The black ball gown clings to her bodice with lethal precision, the intricate lace acting like a web that has finally caught its prize. The heavy silk of the skirt shimmered under the porch lights, trailing behind her like a midnight tide.
Her makeup is a sharp contrast to her pale skin—her eyes are defined by smoke and ink, but it's her lips, painted a deep, blood-red, that command the most attention. They are a provocation in the moonlight.
My skin begins to hum, a vibration of want and desire that I haven't felt… in all my life. My admiration pushes hard against my reluctance to claim her, threatening to shatter the wall I've built around my heart.
She stops at the top of the stairs, as if enjoying the way she's on display, and for a moment, I make no haste to hurry her.
We are both dressed in black, a mere twist of fate, considering we didn't rehearse it. It looks like a unified front for rebellion. I… love it.
'That's because we are fated,' Lakh adds, his voice uncharacteristically soft. 'Can't you see the two hours were worth it? Look at our Queen.'
The word Queen effectively breaks the trance. I snap my jaw shut, the icy mask of the Prince sliding back into place.
"What are you waiting around for? Do you plan to have your own ball on the porch?" I ask, my voice sounding harsher than intended.
Without waiting for her reaction, I walk around the car, opening the rear door myself before the driver can even reach for the handle. I slide inside, putting a physical barrier between us.
The driver wisely hurries to open the other door for her. Through the tinted glass, I watch her pout, looking back at Grace, who seems to be whispering assurances I can't hear—though I find myself wishing I could.
I see her huff, inhaling a deep, shaky breath as if to prepare for the slaughter ahead, before she descends the stairs. As she approaches the car, I'm struck again by how beautiful black looks on the right person.
'That's our mate, boy...'
I exhale, fed up with my wolf's sentimentality, and stare straight ahead just as the door opens, and Iskera gently, slowly, steps into the car.
She holds her gown up with practiced grace, and I find myself clenching my left fist where it's hidden between the door and my thigh as her scent fills the cramped space, as it hits my loins like a physical blow.
"I'm sorry… for taking your time."
Her voice is a mere whisper, but in the silence of the car, it sounds like a shout. My jaw threatens to break under the pressure of keeping my mouth shut, of keeping myself in check. I command the driver to move.
"We are late, so you'll have to speed up. My father is an impatient man."
I hear the princess sigh, a soft, disappointed sound.
I know my lack of a response isn't pleasing to her, but I don't care to rectify it. Instead, I tilt my head back against the leather headrest and shut my eyes, focusing every ounce of my will on controlling the innate urge to lean closer, to sink my nose into the hollow of her neck.
But my eyes shoot open when I taste her fear. The mate bond is a traitorous thing, funneling her nerves directly into my own system.
Damn this bond, I murmur internally, before turning to her.
As before, she is staring out the window, soaking in the sights of the world she was never allowed to see. Those damned Blood-Claws; her family should have been the first to be struck down by the plague for what they did to her.
"You shouldn't be afraid."
She startles, her head snapping toward me with such force I fear for her neck. "What?"
"Nothing will happen to you. I keep my promises."
She swallows hard, her throat bobbing, then gives a stiff nod before returning to the window. She leaves me bereft of her attention, which irritates me more than it should.
I catch sight of her fists, still clenched white-knuckled on her thighs, and I cuss the Goddess to hell for making me feel this, for making me speak these next words:
"Come here, princess."
She startles again, turning to me with cheeks that have developed an even more striking scarlet color. "What?" she squeaks, her eyes widening.
"You are afraid. I can soothe it away... just this one time, since I'm the one plunging you into this situation."
She doesn't look convinced. If anything, she looks more suspicious. "And how exactly will you do that?"
I allow a slow, dangerous smile to graze my lips. "Come closer and find out, princess."