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“I know that.”
“Since I likely can’t do anything to stop your mouth from running save killing you, I thought you should at least know. Be more careful about what you say and to whom.”
“Thank you. For not killing me.”
Another huff. Cy could tell by the stiffness in Haven’s shoulders that he was pulling himself tight, attempting to exude control. “Don’t thank me just yet. The night is still young.”
Cy steeled himself, forcing the next words out, choosing them carefully even though he struggled to utter them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for always challenging you. You’re better than I deserve. I’ll try to be more...obedient.”
“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep,” Haven muttered, turning back to his desk. “Go back to sleep.”
Cy might have felt rebuffed and rejected…had he not seen that drawing. There was something more this vampyre was hiding. Beneath his hard exterior, Haven was soft, wounded. And Cy would get to the root of it.
Though Haven had instructed him to sleep, he found himself continuing to stare at Haven instead, lulled by the sound of his pen scratching against the parchment and the gentle tapping of his foot against the floor.
This vampyre was different. And Cy would be damned if he couldn’t figure out why.
CHApTER EigHT
Haven
That damned humanwould be the death of him.
In the month that had passed since Cypress had been forced upon him, Haven had become rattled more times than he could count, laid bare due to his human slave’s unthinking, yet deeply astute, comments and questioning. This human, he realized, saw him better than perhaps anyone else had for years. And it set him on edge.
Despite his vow to be more obedient, Cypress was, in fact, stillCypress.
Rescuing him from Merick hadn’t been part of Haven’s plan. But for whatever reason, he’d assigned Sirene to…keep an eye on him. And after she alerted him that the stupid human had endangered himself, Haven had jumped to action. To save the human from getting himself killed—and for what? Another human? Didn’t he know how this world worked? Cypress had grown up as a pet, Mirae had told him. And Haven himself had seen the brand. So why was Cypress so willing to throw his life away to defend someone else?
Humans had become selfish bottom-feeders. They’d had to. So many of Thorne’s human servants clung to their own lives to protect themselves and now only operated with one goal: to stay alive. But Cypress wasn’t like that. Cypress was different. He asked unwelcome questions. He attempted to find meaning when there simply wasn’t any.
More than that, he had been hurt, deeply hurt, at the loss of those human pets. Haven had forgotten how deeply that pain could resonate. How long it could last. Cypress carried that loss with him. Just as Haven had carried the loss of Tobin.
Being around Cypress reopened those wounds.
God knew he had much bigger things to worry about than one pathetic human. The Dominion delegation was heading to New Avalon. They’d likely arrive within several hours. Haven needed to be ready. Thorne was depending on him to play the host. So he would do what was asked of him. As always.
“Dress me,” he said to Cypress, observing the strange and heated flush that flashed across the human’s face as Haven stepped out of his white silk robe and bared himself naked. Cypress’s brows shot up. So did another part of him. One barely hidden beneath the silk fabric he wore.
“Dress you?” he asked, a tremor in his usually assured voice.
“You’re my pet, aren’t you? So make yourself useful. I have an important audience to attend.”
Cypress swallowed. “The Dominion?”
Irritation flared hot at Haven’s cheeks. “Yes. No more questions. Do as you’re told.”
This wasn’t the first time Cypress had assisted in dressing Haven for the day, but it was the first time Haven had disrobed entirely. He gestured to his intricately carved bureau across from the bed. “Top drawer.”
Diligently and with great effort to avoid looking at Haven’s naked body, Cypress moved to withdraw a pair of white lace undergarments. “You know what those are, correct? Or are you humans so uncivilized you’ve forgotten what underwear looks like?”
“I know what they are,” Cypress snapped.
Haven cocked a brow. “Then you know I need to step into them, one leg at a time.”
Cypress paced toward him, holding them open for him to step inside. “One leg at a time,my Lord.”He was careful not to touch Haven’s skin, and though he didn’t want to, Haven felt a flash of disappointment as Cypress pulled away.
Cypress helped him into a pair of form-fitting black trousers, ones he knew hugged him in all the right ways, before sliding his burgundy dress shirt over his shoulders and buttoning it up the front. Haven watched the human’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat, remembering what that salty skin had tasted like under his tongue. He’d cleaned up Merick’s messy handiwork, and he hadn’t taken more than what had already pooled from the wound. But God, had he wanted to. Cypress’s blood had tasted like heaven on his tongue. It made Haven want him closer and as far away as possible, both at the same time.
