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I should speak with her. Formally introduce myself and show my support. A hybrid myself, of a different nature, I know what it’s like not to fit in. But somehow, where I am kept distanced, Aspen was welcomed with open arms, her differences celebrated. As if conjured by my thoughts, Aspen’s head turns as she’s placed back down, her eyes seeking me out through the crowds. I inhale sharply, pressing myself back against the wall. I should want to share in her happiness, but as she offers me a small smile, I find rather quickly that I would prefer to hide in the shadows.
I bend low in a quick curtsey before fleeing the room, not wanting the new queen, my sister, to witness the weakness of me groveling at her feet. Pushing against the heavy wooden door, I slip out of the ballroom-turned-nightclub and into the cold, stoned corridor. Briefly, I lean the open back panel of my lavender chiffon dress against the cool walls to soothe my racing heart.
The door reopens a moment later, and my guard steps out in search of me. A trick of my mind fools me into seeing an expression of concern, but once his eyes land on me, his impassive blank stare is firmly in place.
Yarik has been following my every move since I learned to walk. An escort, tutor, and keeper all rolled into one. I would go as far as to say ‘friend,’ but I know the feeling isn’t reciprocated. Yarik doesn’t show emotion, give praise, or have fun. I’m just a two-decade-long job to him. Whereas he’s been everything to me.
I push off from the wall and walk away, desperate for the solitude of my room. Even though he’ll follow a few steps behind and stand beyond my door while I cry into the comfort of my pillow. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, but Yarik has seen me at my best and worst. I refuse to let him see me at my lowest.
I keep my posture rigidly straight and my strides elegantly long. As required by the princess. Passing the main entrance, I spot Nova at the large, open doors, speaking with two strange-looking males. Heavy fur cloaks hang from their shoulders, stopping short of their muscled leather-clad legs, and black smears of face paint are lined across their cheeks and down their corded necks. Their eyes scan the inside of the castle, briefly falling on me as I continue to walk by.
Reaching the East Wing, I suddenly shoot forward in a blur. Free now that I’m far enough away from all others and can drop the ‘prim and proper’ act. Hiking up the long skirts constricting my legs, I race up the winding staircase to the residential floor. My suite at the end of the hall is in sight, so achingly close.
No one believes the pretty, spoilt princess can feel sadness. They only see the fake version who floats around the castle, carefree and content. To the Vamps and my father especially, it’s a profound notion that I might actually feel isolated, desperate to break free of their judgmental stares and unrealistic expectations. Who could possibly understand the loneliness I battle or how profoundly the constraints upon my life weigh me down? The beautiful tiara I wear upon my head claims me as a royal possession, its heaviness like a concrete collar.
I reach for the handle of my sanctuary, bursting inside in one smooth motion. The first deep inhale of relaxation instantly relaxes me until I hear the door slam and turn to see Yarik standing there.
He’s not allowed inside with the door closed. In fact, he’s never closed himself into a confined space with me before, always keeping his honor intact. I’m too shocked to say anything, so I stand frozen and wide-eyed.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” He demands roughly. His blonde hair has fallen loose of his pushed-back style, his icy blue eyes boring into mine. His muscles are tense beneath the black royal uniform he wears with pride, his duty always coming first like a barricade between us. Except for right now. “I can’t listen to you cry alone in here any longer, and I can’t help if you won’t tell me what’s the problem,” his low baritone fills the space.
I blink once. Twice. Yarik is my guard. The stoic presence who stands beyond my door and silently follows my footsteps. Unlike the other females, I’m not permitted to roam the East Wing at my leisure. I have a tight schedule filled with classes, simple duties, and one nightly walk. The only person I am ever in the presence of, beyond pleasantries, is Yarik. Sure, I talk to him about almost everything because I don’t have the luxury of friends. Never did I think hecared. Or perhaps it’s not worry that causes him to ambush me this way, but irritation. My weeping must really have annoyed him if he is breaking his silence.
Just how long has he been questioning my life choices?
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I dismiss him. “You know everything about me.” Expecting Yarik to leave, I approach my vanity, removing the diamonds in my ears. Next, I unhook the heavy necklace, its teardrop pendant hanging low into my cleavage. At least my mother allowed me simple pleasures, such as the occasional dress that didn’t cover me from throat to foot. In the mirror’s reflection, I notice Yarik is still staring. His blue eyes track my every moment like a hawk. “What do you want from me, Yarik?! You know what my life is like, you’re the one who oversees my imprisonment. Step outside like a good guard dog and leave me to wish my life away in peace.
Crossing his arms, widening his stance, Yarik doesn’t leave. He plants himself in my bedroom, crossing a forbidden boundary, and I decide to see how far he will really go to prove his point. Unzipping the back of my dress, the lavender material pools at my feet. A corset cinches my waist and accentuates my breasts, the thong dipping underneath my personal guilty pleasure. No matter what boring meetings I must attend or what my father insists I wear or say, I know under it all, the delicious rub of my thong would drive any vampire crazy if they knew. And now, Yarik knows. Kicking the dress aside, I step up to him.
“I thought you wanted to talk,” I cock my head. “Or perhaps that’s the last thing you wanted to do. Maybe, now that the royal mantel has been removed from my shoulders, you’re hoping to see what I’m capable of.” I stroke a finger over Yarik’s forearm.
He grunts and bucks me away. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Shame washes over me, a burning poker of embarrassment spearing my gut. A flush quickly coats my neck and chest as my temperature rises and my heartbeat accelerates. Of all the emotions I expected to feel today, the harsh sting of rejection was not one of them. I could shout, stomp my feet, and pout my bottom lip like a princess probably would. But I’m done conforming to a society that doesn’t want me.
Instead, I opt to shove at his rock-hard chest. Yarik merely stares down at me, appearing bored and making no attempt to move. Very well. That’s when I decide my only option is to lose my utter shit. Hitting his biceps with closed fists, I screech like a banshee, releasing the full force of rage I’ve been suppressing. A burning hatred for the constricted life I must lead, while Aspen is free to take multiple mates and wander wherever she pleases. From the day she arrived, she was given freedoms I’ve never even had the chance to earn.
I continue throwing punch after punch, trying to extract any sort of reaction from Yarik. I add a kick to the shin for good measure, growling with the full length of my fangs on show. As I lunge for his neck, Yaris suddenly grabs my wrists and spins me around. My back slams against the door, and my mouth opens in shock. No one has dared to touch me so roughly before.
My breath hitches at the golden glow illuminating within his blue eyes, a primal hunger rising to the surface. My wrists are bound by large palms above my head, the heaving of my chest shifting between us. Unable to anticipate his next move, I begin to speak when Yarik shakes his head. A trickle of laughter sounds through the door from the other end of the hallway. Far away enough to move on, none the wiser, but the instant realization of our precarious position triggers something within me.
Wetness pools at my core, the delicious tightness of the thong instantly coming into play. Yarik inhales deeply, the tick in his jaw beating in time with my heart. Keeping me still and completely at his mercy, his head dips.
“Do. It.” I whisper, so low only his ears would hear it, and his lips crash against mine. My thighs clench, wholly unprepared for him responding to my goading. My head spins with confusion and a wave of déjà vu since I’ve dreamt about this scenario hundreds of times before. His mouth claims mine like a male possessed by his inner beast. A hard, heated press. A smooth, sultry assault. Everything I could have imagined, it’s that and more. After a beat, I relent to the passion that roars to life inside me and return his kiss with equal vigor – uncaring of the consequences.
