I had giggled at Estella’s dramatic nature over hair. “What favor could I possibly do with that?”
“Help me encourage her to wear it down. And…”
“And?”
Estella sighed heavily again, making me bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“In support, we could both wear our hair down too.”
She paused as if I would argue against it. Honestly, I thought it may be a good idea.
“Okay. I would be fine with that.”
Estella had groaned, but agreed.
I had approached Onyx later that same night about the gala. I expected him to argue against the attendance. He did appear on edge when I first mentioned it. Truth be told, if I wasn’t going to support Odessa, I wouldn’t be going at all. I had little to no interest in the gala events. I did inform him that was my main intention of going. He agreed a little too readily, but I wasn’t about to question that response. I did not want to attend my first gala event alone. But I would, for Odessa’s sake.
That night at the gala had been yet another unprecedented event. Both Onyx and I, and even Estella, had been left inshock when Devareaux had made a very public announcement and apology to Odessa. He had ended it with calling her his blood soul. Poor Odessa had walked around for the remainder of the event lost in herself. I didn’t blame her. That had been the biggest honor I had ever heard to happen within vampyr society.
And poor Onyx had looked uncomfortable during the entire event. Although he had looked devastatingly handsome in his suit, he appeared not to be interested in anything but our little group.
Mr. D’Avare had been present, but without mother. He had another woman with him, but I wasn’t sure if she was the blood whore. I did not want to, nor need to, know who his blood whore or mistresses were. But the fact he was at a public event without Mother was highly distasteful. I hoped Onyx and Devareaux could soon squeeze some pressure on him to make changes. It would be the only way he would.
Throughout the night, Onyx had been looking on me differently. We had settled into a strange flow. It had become comfortable for the first time since I had overheard his truth. But I still maintained my distance. I had to protect myself.
That night, Onyx came to me differently. Once we were in the master bedroom, he had closed the door and approached me. He stood in front of me with such an intensity in his eyes. It threw me off balance. Then he reached out and pulled me to him. He had a hunger in his eyes I had seen lately, but had chosen to ignore.
“Let me take care of you, my love.”
He had one hand against my back, and the other one reached up to the neckline of my red dress, and gently pulled it down to expose my shoulder.
His voice was always erotic, yet soothing, making me struggle to maintain my wall against him every time.
His stubble rubbed against my skin as he dragged his lips across my shoulder and up to my neck. I moaned. I couldn’t control it. The one thing I had come to hate about the taking was the lack of control. That euphoria feeling. I whimpered. I didn’t want him to touch me, not after everything.
His voice was a pleading whisper against my skin. “Please Dreya, my love. Let me love you. Let me have you.”
I wanted to tell him no, but I also wanted to tell him yes.
“Only….tttaaakkkkeee…….the blood…..nottthhing…….more.” I felt his grip tighten on me, then loosen. He pulled back, looking me in the eyes. Even though my eyes were hooded, he looked pained.
“Dreya, my love. Please! I am begging you. Let me love you as I have always meant to.”
I still had some control of myself, even though I could feel my blood thrumming in my body, ready for him, primed for him to take it. My eyes fluttered, trying to remain open and focused.
“You do not want me. You want my blood. Only my blood. So take the blood. I cannot deprive you of that one thing.”
He moved his face closer, his warm breath tickling my lips. I wanted him to kiss me, but knew it would mean nothing to him. And he would not be intimate with me during the taking as I had always hoped for. He maintained eye contact with me.
“No Dreya. I was a fool. I want you more than I ever realized. Not just your blood. You. All of you. Your love, your compassion, your joy, your heart. Your soul.”
That made me whimper again. I wanted him to be my blood soul, such an honor that would have been. But it was not real.
I closed my eyes.
“No. That is not what you want.”
In a tight tone, he gritted out, “Yes it is! I want you! All of you! Every part, every line, every emotion, every touch, every need. You. Your soul is mine! You. Are. My. Blood soul!”
