Prophesy (The King & Alpha 1)

Wick looked to think for a bit then said, “Write in their journals.”

Justice scoffed when he realized Wick was serious. “Um, no, King Bentley. I was referring to watching some television.”

“An idiot-box?”

“Can you possibly say idiot any snootier than that?” Justice shook his head in amusement. “You don’t watch TV, ever?”

“I have no need.”

“Well, none of us have a need for it… it’s… entertainment.” Justice hoped he was rambling enough to keep Wick’s mind off the food he was trying so hard to finish. It’d been ten minutes already, when it generally only took Justice thirty seconds to finish a sandwich – or three bites.

“Why are you shielding me? I can feel you blocking me in there somewhere.” Wick squinted at him. “What are you not telling me, Justice Volkov?”

“Baby, don’t be so suspicious. You got too much sun exposure today. We’re going to have to monitor you with this day walking.” Justice rubbed Wick’s shoulder then took another bite of the burnt sandwich. “Now, how about that movie? It’ll be an experience. I’ll introduce you to lazy date-night… Netflix… it’s the American way.”

“You’re patronizing me and you’re rambling.” Wick stared into Justice’s eyes for so long, his skin began to tingle. His mate was actually pushing past his barrier. “Let me in and show me what you’re hiding,” he singsonged.

Oh hell. Justice barely held in his grunt when he pushed Wick further back. His mate scoffed and bored in even deeper, his obsidian eyes blinking to an arctic blue right before him. This was the first time they’d butted their energies together. It was a fascinating contest.

Justice stared back at Wick’s beast. Alpha to Alpha. He couldn’t break eye contact, it wasn’t in him, but he didn’t want to tell Wick the truth and hurt his feelings, either. His mate believed he’d completed a successful meal. However, Justice’s tongue didn’t feel like the surface of the sun after successful meals.

Justice’s chest rumbled and a grunt finally escaped when Wick leaned forward, hissing slightly under his breath, his eyes penetrating him. Seeing clear through him to the pits of his being where only the scary things were… that was where Wick found his sandwich.

Wick reared back and gasped, his mouth falling open in half shock, half laugh. “You hate the bloody sandwich!”

Justice wiped his napkin over his mouth to conceal his smile. He huffed and dropped his shields. “I can’t hide it anymore. I do, babe. It’s um… um. Don’t be upset, you tried and I love you so much… but this meat is way too salty. Not to mention, it’s as spicy as the devil’s cock. I like minimal spices. Keeps the integrity of the meat.”

Wick crossed his arms over his chest, his glower falling short of scary when it came to him. “I should jump on top of you and bite you for trying to hide from me.”

Justice eagerly raised his head, until Wick finished his rant.

“… and it wouldn’t be a feel-good bite. I can’t believe you’re sitting here wolfing it down, dying a slow death. Silly.” Wick took the plate with the three-quarters eaten sandwich and threw the entire thing in the trash, silverware, too.

Justice pointed to the bin. “Those dishes aren’t paper, baby.”

Wick looked so confused Justice couldn’t even pull himself together enough to explain.

He made sure Wick ate well, even though he hadn’t. He would find something, even if he went out for a quick run and ate. Justice had just finished setting up the laptop since there wasn’t a television in the house so they could watch a movie. It was a little after five and he knew the other vampires would be up looking for the King and awaiting their instructions for the evening.

“Hey. Maybe we should start the movie after you meet with your team.”

Wick was responding to an email while he waited for Justice. “They know what they’re supposed to do tonight. I don’t think they’ll even come to the house. Only Henry. But he’s so quiet.”

“I know.” Justice placed the laptop on the coffee table. “So, what are you in the mood for?”

Wick gave Justice a knowing leer.

“Besides that.”

“How about Gone with the Wind?” Wick’s eyes widened when he thought of something else. “No, um. What’s the name…? Oh… Casablanca.”

“Fuck. How old are you again?”

Wick showed his long fangs that made Justice hot, not nervous. “I hear those are American classics.”

“You were around for the first television, the first movie. You weren’t curious?”

“Yes, we knew about them. They simply didn’t appeal to us… well, not to me. I never found anything I liked on television.”

Justice shook his head. “Very well. Casablanca, then. I’m not sure I can sit through Gone with the Wind again anyway. Or,” Justice grumbled. “We can watch something made in this millennium, that’s in color, complete with CGI and all.”