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Valentine looks at me with unmitigated disappointment and rakes a hand through his thick hair. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking, Gabe,” he says with one heavy eyebrow slanted in concern.
I turn and lean my head against the window, crossing my arms.
“Seeing Church, someone I considered a little brother, choosing someone over his family and putting them in harm's way, made me realize that I don’t want a Fated. I don’t ever want to be in a predicament where I have to choose them or you, so I’d rather take one out of the equation.”
There’s a deep-set frown marring his face, but he eventually nods while his lips are a thin line of dissatisfaction. “If that ever happens, I will gladly give you the Dawn, but until then…” he says, lifting his glass in a toast and finishing the blood.
He leaves soon after, and I start pacing the floor, with worry setting deep in my bones. I will let the council know that I’ll be taking over as King as they requested, and that means I will have to take Katherine along to Westcott’s old place.
Hmm, that won’t do; perhaps I’ll make Vegas my base and have Valentine move to DC. He’s good with people, anyway, and doesn’t look half as terrifying and intimidating as I do.
That’s a thought for another day.
I’m exhausted and need sleep after everything that’s happened, so I decide to sleep as soon as the sky shows signs of dawn. But somehow, I find myself in Katherine’s room, staring down at her sleeping frame.
I don’t know what it is about her, but once again, I am drawn in here like a fucking moth to a flame.
She’s sleeping peacefully for a change, her breathing even, and her heart beating in a rhythmic thrum, but she’s kicked off her covers and is showing off her beautiful slender legs.
The tank top she’s wearing has pulled up and exposed the creamy skin of her belly while she lays with one arm above her head.
I reach out and run a finger over her taut stomach, feeling the dips of her abs and the softness of her skin. She always feels so warm, not like other humans who feel clammy and sickening to the touch.
I think it was the first thing I noticed about her, that she doesn’t disgust me as other humans do. In fact, I love touching her skin and would run my tongue over her entire body, given the chance, just to taste her.
It makes me wonder how sweet her blood tastes…
My own thoughts bring me back to reality, and I pull my hand away as if I’ve just touched a live wire.
What the fuck am I thinking? I don’t drink from humans, much less hunters! And yet again, I am in here without knowing why; as if she’s put some sort of spell on me that I just can’t shake.
Feeling pissed off at myself, I turn around to walk away when the sound of her voice stops me in my tracks.
“Gabriel…”
My dead heart beats a drumline in my chest at having been caught like this, and I am about to make an excuse as I turn around, but then she groans, and the sound heads straight to my cock.
I slowly turn my head when the scent of heady caramel drifts towards me, only to see Katherine’s hand has slipped into the bottoms of her pajamas. She moans again, then says my name while continuing to pleasure herself, and I make a beeline for the fucking door, locking it behind me.
Then I walk to my bedroom with the intention of getting under a cold shower and attempting to forget the alluring image of Katherine pleasuring herself while calling out my name.
KATHERINE
Ineed therapy.
A full 24 hours of therapy and ECT because of all the filthy dreams I’ve been having about my captor.
It’s been two weeks since I last saw Gabriel; I don’t even see him going in or out of the estate. Valentine’s visits have become less frequent, too, and it makes me wonder what’s going on. Not to mention that I’ve seen werewolves running around the estate during the day, and once or twice I saw Lycans.
For some reason, I thought this was because my father had sent someone for me, but even that hope was stifled as the days passed. I’m not sure why I’m still expecting him to come for me and why I still hope he does, even after I found out the awful things about him.
I suppose that a part of me refuses to believe that my father could do anything as awful as what I’ve been told. I mean… he raised me and made certain that I turned into the hunter I am today.
When I think back to my parent’s relationship, I don’t remember arguments or them being unhappy.
So what is the truth? I don’t think I’ll ever know unless I’m face to face with my father again. Call me naive, but I need proof before I start believing anyone; especially vampires who can use their mind compulsion on me.
Groaning, I walk over to the windows just as the last of the sun sinks lower, and in the distance, I see a pack of ten wolves racing towards the estate. I frown at this since I’ve never seen the wolves that patrol the estate run like this before.
