Wicked Matrimony (Legends and Lovers)

“I know you don’t believe in the supernatural, but you need to rethink things.”

She sinks into her chair a little further. “Supernatural? Like powers and such? Is that how you flew down from your balcony?”

“I didn’t fly.” I stop pacing to stand in front of her chair, staring down at her.

“You did something that wasn’t quite human.”

“This is all a lot to take in at the moment. But if you trust me, I promise I’ll protect you.”

“From my powers?” She holds up her hand, turning it as if it’s a new limb.

“I can help you harness your power. Help you develop it.”

“What about the other empires?” she asks, her voice hushed. Fragile.

“If they find out what you can do, they’ll want to hurt you.”

“Oh.” She wraps her arms around herself, shivering.

“Do you trust me?” I ask.

“I… I don’t know.”

“I’m the only person in this world you can trust. Remember that.” I step closer, my hand extended.

She reaches for it, pulling back at the last second. “I don’t know who I can trust.”

“You can trust me, Allison. I’d die before I ever let anyone lay a finger on you.”

She takes my hand and I pull her up from the chair, wrapping my arms around her.

“Why?” she asks, breathless.

“Because you’re the only one who can help me right my wrongs.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what that means.”

“One day you will.”

“I knew you’d call for me soon,” Harker says in a voice I assume she thinks is sexy. She saunters closer to the foot of my bed. “I always miss you when you don’t call.”

The tight red dress she wears does little to excite me.

She still tries, though.

After all these years, Harker still tries to entice me with her long legs and sultry moves.

It does nothing for me. Nothing like what taking one glance at Allison does.

I lie on the bed, waiting for supper to be served, but Harker is more interested in playing games than bringing me my meal. She’s a lust-struck junkie, loving the feeling of euphoria that drinking blood brings to a mortal.

“Enough, Harker. Let’s get this over with. I’m hungry.”

She turns away from the bed. Her raven-colored hair flows down her back, swishing with the sway of her hips. “You don’t want to work for your dinner?”

I fly from the bed, making my way to her in a matter of seconds. “Let’s get one thing straight…” I tug her head to the side so I can get a good angle on her neck and lean in, sniffing her skin. “I don’t work for anything.” I sink my teeth into her tender flesh, her blood entering through the small holes in my fangs and flowing down my throat.

She moans as I drink from her—turned on, as usual—and I roll my eyes, glancing out at the moonlit sky. The thought of draining her dry enters my mind. It’s quickly replaced with the horrid fact that if I drain most of her blood, she’ll turn, and I don’t want that. I don’t need Harker around for all eternity.