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“We’re all beautiful.”

“Not all of us.” That comment got a few snickers to the right of me, but I didn’t look because Theseus led me toward one corner of the room. A servant dressed in red came forward with glasses of wine instead of blood.

“Thank you,” I said to him when Theseus took the glass.

But the man did not speak or nod; he just moved to the next guest.

“The president is not here yet,” Theseus said, focusing on the cup in my hands. “Have you ever had blood wine before?”

“Blood wine?” I sniffed the wine, but I couldn’t smell anything but the vineyard, the sweetness of the grapes.

“It is exactly as it sounds. By putting in a drop of fresh human blood, only a drop changes the components of the wine, making it drinkable to us, but also different types of blood give wines different flavors.”

Flavors? I lifted the glass again to look before taking a sip. “It tastes just like red wine, sweet and a little savory. But it tastes like it did when I was mortal.”

He nodded. “It is an old trick to help vampires cope between feedings. Now people experiment to recreate human flavors.”

“I find this insulting!” A square-jawed, bushy-eyebrowed man with a buzz cut, dressed in elaborate clergymen’s attire, barked out in a heavy Russian accent as he came forward. “As the Prince of Night, where are your manors? Did you not see me? You just take your mate and sneak into the corner.”

Theseus turned to the man speaking, and I had feeling he was trying his best to figure out who the hell was talking to him. I had forgotten he didn’t remember these vampires. That was why he had led us away, so as not to expose himself.

Quickly I turned to the annoyed man. “It is because I am a bit shy…Mr.…”

“Mikhail Swan, fourth son of the president, the one this party is for.” He snapped his green eyes to me. “Shy or not, one would think the Prince of Night purposefully wanted to insult me.”

“Oh

relax, just because it is your birthday does not mean you are king.” Daiyu rolled her eyes, walking over in an emerald green, Tudor-style corset dress. The B necklace hung around her neck with pearls clearly stated she was Anne Boleyn tonight. She looked at Theseus and bowed her head. “Though it does sting that you have not introduced her, Lord Thorbørn.”

“Forgive me, Mikhail, Daiyu.” He nodded to them both. “I was simply waiting for your father. It seemed wrong to introduce her to anyone but him first.”

“There can be an exception.” Daiyu flashed her sharp smile. “Mikhail might be the celebrant, but she is the guest of honor. We are all honored that you chose this as the first celebration to show her to the whole world.”

“Very well.” Theseus’s voice was the only one heard as everyone quickly hushed. He lifted his hand for me to take, and I did. “My fellow immortals, this is Druella Zirie Monroe, my intended.”

“Intended? What the hell does that mean? I hate when you are not clear with your words,” Mikhail retorted, carefully watching my every move. His eyebrows were so hairy they touched when they furrowed. “Ms. Monroe, are you the Prince of Night’s woman or not? Wait, don’t tell me you rejected him? Do you know who he is?”

There were soft intakes of air, the sounds of people either amused or in shock. And whatever mask Theseus wore had to be made of stone and dipped in iron because he looked completely unfazed by the obvious and loud goading Mikhail was engaging in for no reason.

“Well, Ms. Monroe? Will you keep us intended for an answer? We are curious. The Prince of Night has had many women. They all begged him to mate, but he treated them like cadavers when he was done with them. Now he wants a mate, and she is rejecting him,” he pushed.

Maybe it was because of all the years I had endured Simone’s backhanded comments that I wasn’t shocked to see he was being so blatantly disrespectful.

“I apologize.” No, I didn’t. “As I’m sure you know, I haven’t been a vampire for long, so I don’t know our customs and practices very well yet; hardly at all, actually. Everything is still a bit overwhelming. And I have been told I still act like a mortal. Theseus has asked me to mate him, but what does being mated mean? If that is like the mortal term for marriage or soulmates, I believe it should be equal. Right now, it is not. I’m using him more like a book than a mate. When I can be fair to him and meet him with the same sincerity and patience he gives me, I will give him my answer because he deserves that.”

“So, wait, you want to know everything he does before you mate?” he asked, the earlier amusement in his voice gone as I hadn’t embarrassed myself. “Kid, no, newborn…The Prince of Night has lived over a millennium. It may take centuries for you to know all he knows.”

“Thank God I’m immortal then.” I grinned, causing a few others to snicker.

His eyes shifted to Theseus. “She plans to keep you waiting, Prince, like a pet. One of the great sons of Sigbjørn, held by the collar by a woman? How the mighty have fallen.”

You son of a bitch. That was not what I said!

At that, Theseus grinned, and from the reactions of everyone else that must not have been a normal sight for them. “Mikhail, would you like to know something my father once told me?”

The asshole just lifted his head, waiting.

“Show me a man—mortal or immortal—that is not bound by the desires of their mate, and I shall show you that he is no man but an injured beast, howling at his own deep wounds. For a man is not afraid to belong to someone. He seeks it, for he knows they will belong to him also.” His words gave me chills. “My intended has told you she means to stay by my side for centuries. If I am her pet, she is mine also, and everyone here should know I am a lot of things but an easy companion.”

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