Page 83 of Imprisoned with the Vampire King

Finally, the elevator stopped.

I squeezed my eyes shut when it did, and I waited for the ding.

The tone was off, but eventually, it dinged.

And the doors slowly, unevenly, slid open.

My eyes did, too.

Shock and relief sounded around us. Dante was out of the elevator in a heartbeat, stalking out of the building without stopping for my keys or a conversation.

We passed dozens of people. Maybe more. He didn't speak to them other than a few growled and gritted out words that I was too exhausted to make sense of.

I clung to him, even though his grip on me was solid and I was shaking too badly to actually hold myself up.

Dante didn't say a word as he carried me to his car.

Or as he slid the driver's seat backward, so he didn't have to put me down to drive.

Exhaustion slowly replaced everything else I was feeling.

I hadn't been careful enough.

My plan had gone to shit again. Why did I even bother trying to plan, at this point?

Dread battled with the exhaustion.

I would have to go back down there again.

Exhaustion won.

I fell asleep—or unconscious—quickly enough that everything else was going to have to be tomorrow's problem.

seventeen

OPHELIA

The room was blissfully quiet when I eventually woke up.

I wrestled with my eyelids as I attempted to judge my surroundings. I was laying on something thick and warm.

Dante.

There was something draped over my legs and back.

Fabric.

A blanket.

My wings were hanging freely, with Dante's hand on my spine.

I finally peeled my face off his bare chest, and met his eyes.

Oof.

He was definitely still furious.

Definitely.