I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. “It keeps the household organized.”
“Mm.”
He tilted the planner slightly and read one of Billie’s scribbled additions aloud. “Remember bug-shaped pasta.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Then his mouth straightened again. “So.”
The word settled heavily into the room.
“Tell me about them.”
Ice slid through my veins. I didn’t want to share any details about the beautiful relationship I’d built with the Lawrence family. It was personal. They were mine.
I also knew instantly I would answer.
People imagined obedience as external—commands, threats, and punishment. But compulsion lived deeper than thought. Bogdan could ask questions gently and my body would still begin unraveling answers before I consciously decided to speak.
The oldest sires developed frightening levels of control over their bloodlines. Most vampires could vaguely sense their progeny if they were injured or in distress. Bogdan could practically inhabit our bodies if he wished.
Over centuries, he’d refined the bond into something horrifyingly intimate. It was a leash. And because I had trapped him beneath the ocean for over a century?—
God.
I knew exactly what this was. Punishment would come first, then, eventually, execution.
Bogdan had always destroyed progeny once they grew powerful enough to threaten him. I had not merely threatened him. Ihad won, if only temporarily. That sort of humiliation wasn’t something Bogdan would forget.
His eyes remained fixed on me. “The widower,” he prompted. “Tell me about him.”
The compulsion tightened instantly behind my ribs.
I swallowed hard, the words forcing themselves out of my throat. “His name is Conrad Lawrence.”
“Age?”
“Thirty-eight.”
“Occupation?”
“Financial consulting.”
“Mm.” Bogdan leaned back slightly. “And you like him.”
I stayed silent. I didn’t want to answer that. Pain lanced through my skull, and I had to grip the back of a chair to keep from screaming. Wood cracked under my hands.
Bogdan sighed softly. “Do not make this unpleasant.”
I hated him. I fucking hated him.
“He’s kind,” I said finally through clenched teeth.
A sudden, sharp spark of satisfaction lit up Bogdan’s eyes. “There she is.”
“He loves his children,” I added, against my will.
“How tedious.”
“He works too much. He worries constantly. He thinks no one notices when he’s exhausted.”
The words kept coming now, unstoppable once the bond had its hook in me.
