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Despite trusting the techies at what they do, I check each and every shutter for gaps between the metal and wood. Can’t take any chances when we’re about to be trapped in here for twelve hours with no chance of escaping a design flaw. Dropping my bag on the sofa, I fully inspect the cabin’s interior. I may be second in command, but even Jaxon hasn’t been permitted entry before. This is Lorcan’s private space, which we’ve well and truly invaded.
Like the exterior, the wooden planks have been left exposed across the walls but shine through a glossy coat of white. The entire cabin is strangely bright. Whereas the castle drips with luxury and elegance, the décor here is cozy and intimate. The fireplace before Jaxon overlooks a spacious lounge area, blocked off by a curved teal sofa adorned in shaggy white and teal patterned cushions. A fur rug lies between the two, stark white and untouched. I can't tell what type, but from here, I would guess it’s a snow leopard’s pelt. I really hope, due to my present company, it’s anything but wolf.
Through an archway at the opposite end of the room, the kitchen is modern and complete with a marbled breakfast bar. Furthering my exploration of the cups, wine glasses, and crockery through glass cabinets, my gaze drifts to where Aspen occupies one of two stools. Vampires can’t consume real food, which begs the question - who did the king intend to bring here?
“Are you staring at my ass?” Aspen asks, not bothering to look back. My gaze clashes with the feathery fucker on the countertop, tipping his head back and forth. There’s a crazed look in his eyes I’d happily wring the life out of if only to protect the princess. He’s not one of us. He doesn’t understand our ways or what’s at stake. The silence stretches until Aspen looks back, quirking a brow.
“I’d rather not catch a stake to the heart for ogling the princess. And I don’t mean by your familiar. The king wouldn’t hesitate to kill me for even thinking about it.”
“Is that so?” Aspen slides off her stool, seeming much more entertained suddenly. My death must be amusing because, to her, I’m just another peasant. A minion to be ordered around. “Seems we have quite the loyalist. Maybe we should place bets on how long it lasts. What do you think, Jax?” My friend and commander chuckles, stoking the fire he’s long since lit.
Making her way to me, Aspen trails her fingers along the wooden slats of the staircase, causing a low thrumming sound to accompany her saunter. Stopping at the base of the stairs, she finds a light switch and flicks it several times, observing the lightbulbs in fascination. I watch her, intrigued, unsure why she would appear so amazed at a simple light switch. No doubt it pales compared to the splendor she would have grown up with. Aspen continues to run her index finger along the banister until reaching the third step.
"Whose cabin is this?" she asks, slowly spinning on the balls of her worn sneakers. The extra height only puts her at eye level with me, providing a view I wasn’t prepared for. Large, rounded orbs of the deepest navy blue, framed by long lashes and a smattering of pale freckles. Aside from her vampire traits, Aspen bears no other resemblance to Lorcan. Thankfully. Gold flecks linger inside her irises, her wolf prowling just beneath the surface.
"It belongs to your father," I reply hollowly. The raven in the kitchen caws at the exact moment Aspen’s features visibly shut down, blocking me out.
"Don't call him that." Lingering, Aspen searches my face and body, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Or what?” I ask, finding my voice. Maybe I just want to hold her attention a moment longer, or maybe, since she’s decided to have it out for me, riling her the wrong way seemed like the best option.
Stretching out a lone finger, she drags her digit over the hole in my t-shirt where I was stabbed. “Or maybe that stake will come from a foe you didn’t know you had.” Hooking her finger in the hole, she tugs, tearing my shirt downwards before turning swiftly and climbing the wooden staircase. I suppose I’ve found the princess’ new favorite hobby. Being a fucking cock tease.
“Just a friendly observation,” Jaxon appears at my back. “I don’t think she’s a fan of diplomatic answers.”
“You think,” I growl, shoving him away when he remains too close. Grabbing my bag, I shoot up the stairs, my head a mess of how I’ve been raised and what I’d rather do. I’d envisioned the princess on my arm before the night was through, but at this rate, she might be better suited over my knee. I shake my head free of such thoughts, trying to remember what an honor being her security detail is. Our females are rare, precious commodities to be protected.
A rapid and unknown decline in pregnancies or female births has dwindled our numbers at a terrifying rate, and those who could conceive died in labor. Many of their mates walked straight into the midday sun for their souls to be reunited with loved ones, preferring to burn than live alone. Between this and a string of shifter wars over the last century, the vampires are all on edge.
For this reason, females at the castle are treated with the utmost care and respect, regardless of status. If a daughter is born successfully, the family is instantly boosted up through the ranks. All males begin training at a very young age to strengthen our armies, whereas the females are given classes in the arts; painting, singing, sewing, pottery, languages, gardening, and each one knows at least one instrument – forming our small orchestra. Something I highly doubt Aspen will conform to.
Peering into each room, except the one with steam billowing from beneath the door, Aspen finds the master bedroom. Floor-to-ceiling windows that would face out across the sea are covered by metal shutters, casting the room in a shadow dark as a moonless night. Not that Aspen nor I need light to see the gigantic bed inside, filling the majority of the space. A wooden wardrobe and white dressing table complete with a stool and dainty, rounded mirror are the only other furnishings, a door across the other side hinting at an ensuite bathroom.
“Look, I get it,” I say, thrusting my boot forward when Aspen tries to slam the door closed. “You’re used to being spoilt, getting your way-” her bitter laugh interrupts me. The raven swoops through the gap overhead, landing on the dressing table to watch our interaction. One that is evidently not going in my favor as I push my way inside. “What I’m trying to say is you’ve been waiting for the vampires to extend you an invitation to spend some time in our territory. I get how that could…inflate one’s ego.” The laughter grows, accompanied by the twittering of the bird.
“Seems you know all about overinflated egos,” Aspen abandons her struggle to shut me out, throws her middle finger up, and heads for the bathroom. I’m not overly shocked by her display; we have feisty females in vampire territory. But we also have a princess of our own, and she’d never be permitted to act in such a way.
“I’ll have you know, I’m quite the catch back at the castle,” I blurt for some unknown reason.
Aspen throws another sarcastic smirk over her shoulder. “Then maybe you should have stayed behind.”
I growl, tension racing through my shoulders with the need to prove myself. To show her I’m not the stuck-up asshole she’s instantly pegged me for. Although, the reason why I even care for her opinion eludes me. She’s a mission. One which has been extended until she’s adjusted to our scents, but still just another task to be completed.
Aspen disappears into the bathroom, and I just stand there like a fool. Fully aware, the raven watches every indecisive pull of my features as I battle with what to do. Perhaps I should tell her therealreason we were sent to retrieve her tonight. Would that make me valiant for being honest or the reckless dick who scared her away? Ultimately, the decision is already made for me. We’re following Lorcan’s orders, and that’s what I will continue to do. Aspen wasn’t wrong when she called me a loyalist; I’ll serve my king until my immortal life ends.
* * *
Some while later,Aspen emerges from the bathroom in only a towel. Her eyebrows shoot upright in surprise, then pinch in annoyance at finding me here. Apparently, she had no such qualms about the raven seeing her practically naked, her skin pebbled with droplets and white hair dripping onto the carpet. Every creamy, flawless inch on display calls to my animalistic side. Her breasts are fuller than the baggy hoodie suggested, squashed against the towel while her tiny waist remains cinched. I could wrap my hands around her middle with ease.
"Dude,” Aspen groans, sensing the hunger shift in the air. “It’s been a long night. I’m tired and quickly becoming grumpy, so I’m going to turn in,” she inclines her gaze to the bed. “Maybe you should go find where you’re going to hang upside down or whatever shit you do.”
"Ha ha,” I say dryly, rolling my eyes. Now she’s mentioned it, sleeping by sunrise is a vampire’s natural routine, and I have run the length of this country tonight retrieving a smart-mouthed sovereign. The same one who seems in a rush to brush me off.Fuck it.“Funnily enough, I’ve found where I’m going to sleep. Right here.”
Dropping down on the edge of the king-size mattress, I kick off my boots and stuff the duffle bag under the bed, wanting to keep the blood bags I can smell inside close by for when I wake. Pulling my torn t-shirt over my head, I chuck it onto a brown leather armchair I hadn’t noticed in the corner of the room. Next, I remove my trousers and socks, throw them on the growing pile, and opt to leave my boxers on this time. Call it a one-time courtesy because I sleep naked. Period.
“You look really comfortable and all, but…” Aspen drawls before a sudden thud hits my back. She lands horizontally, having booted me with her bare feet. I spin, knocking away her following kicks with ease. The real test is not peering down where her towel falls to cover her. I have too much honor for that. Aspen jumps upright on the mattress, one hand holding her towel in place whilst punching me square in the jaw with the other. “Seriously, get the fuck out. I’d kill you and your mom before I gave up the chance to sleep in a bed like this.” I tackle her down, not wanting to hit her back, so I resort to almost tickling her. What the actual fuck has gotten into me?
“Jokes on you. My mother is already dead,” I quip back and then pause. My brows pinch, the raven ducking his head beneath his wing as the tension in the air sours. In a rush of speed, I drag the cover over Aspen and roll her up like a sausage. “And only your stubborn ass said you had to leave. So, relax,” I hold her squirming body still, “and go to fucking sleep. Your beauty is lethal, but I reckon you’ll be even hotter with your mouth shut.” At this point, it's probably best that my mother is deceased because if she heard me talking to royalty in such a way, she’d have my tongue.
