13. Caspian

Iam a defiant, devious, and sinful boy. Cassius tells me so but his tone is more amused than angry. Why? It's as if ever since I took more from that fae—increased my debt to him—he's been humming with glee.

I am not so self-centered, however. Something else has his spirits high. Something important enough to distract from me. What is it? What is it?

I want to know. Need to know.

Whatever pleases Cassius means misery for me.

I try to prod his thoughts, but this far from the mansion he can easily swat me away.

I could go back.

No.Don't want to.

I stay near the Citadel and watch her instead. She's infuriating. Cassius torments me for a night, and I rage for weeks after. Even the thought makes me hiss through clenched teeth.

But her. She's safe inside her skull where I can't follow. There, she's pure and untouched, waltzing around her archive with her head held high.

Like she wasn't writhing for me. Craving it: destruction at my fingertips. Like she wasn't eager for me to do every last thing I've taunted her with. As if she didn't steal an orgasm from me.

Damn the fae. She is good at playing pretend. I almost believe her.

Then I see how she walks. How she winces when she crouches down to tend to her chores. It's not pain that has her biting her lip. It's not fear that has her glancing over her shoulder, searching for me.

Oh yes. I can see it so clearly, what she's desperate to hide. That's the thing, though. She hides it. She lies to herself. She denies the obvious.

She'd fuck me even if I didn't deliver information about her precious realm. After all, Caspian the vamryer has never been denied.

Even Cassius can't ignore his attraction to me. Men and women all react the same. This pretty face beckons them. My voice lures them into a false sense of security as I ask them to bare their necks. When I bite, they never see the pain coming.

Attraction is the one skill I've honed as a damn vamryre. I know how to cultivate it. How to wield it like a knife, slipped in the back of an unwitting victim.

Yet she is unaffected. I can admit that. The beauty of my appearance does not appeal to her. Her interest in me only extends to what I can do for her. She's as transactional as a vamryre, craving knowledge instead of blood.

We can go days without the substance. Weeks. Cassius keeps us placated until he decides when and where we can indulge the urge. It's the one grace he gives us, or so he says.

He protects us from hunger.

Not from pain or hate or regret. He lets all three fester in me.

She acts like she's above such base emotions. Above hunger. Above lust.

Lies.Lust is what I tasted in her, deep in those archives. I need to taste it again.

Want to.

For now, I'll stay back. I watch her scurry in and out of her little hiding place. I watch her wait for me.

I don't go to her. Not yet.

I let her squirm. I keep to the shadows and let the hours tick by. Until I can't.

After nightfall, when the other fae have scattered, I corner her. When she's returning some book to a shelf like it's the most important thing in the world. I press into her and feel that slender body shiver.

With no fear, however. She's so damn ready for me. The second I reach for her, she lurches into my touch, but keeps her face averted from me, as if that makes it less sinful. Shameful. I hook my hand through her hair and grip her skull. Then I force her to look at me.

She isn't quivering like a timid little virgin in those stories she likes to read. She meets my gaze dead on. She's ready for any corruption I could deliver.

That makes her braver than I ever was.

It makes me hate her all the more.

"Have you thought about me, little fae?" I ask her. Me, not the dare I've proposed to her. Not her obsession with the other realm. Me—my fingers inside her. My cock, eager to claim her.

She shakes her head. Little liar. It is difficult to ignore the clarity in her gaze, however. She probably believes it. If she tells herself that lie enough times it makes it true. She hasn't thought of me.

But I've thought of her. All the things I will do to her. The ways in which I will make her scream. Beg. Whimper. I'm going to have her by the time this is all said and done.

But then I will have you,Cassius murmurs, always listening in.

The moment I kiss her again, he falls silent. Poof. He's gone. There is just her and her skin and her fingers scratching at my chest. She pushes me off and I let her win. I let her think she's in control of this game.

All the better to turn the tables on her later and shatter any hope that she could ever defeat me.

"Tell me," she gasps. I blink. It's not a denial. Not a plea to stop. She merely wants her payment upfront. "Tell me more about the realm?—"

"And what good will that do?" I counter. "You'll never see it."

She will never leave this place until the day of the ceremony. Then her corpse will never leave the Citadel.

However, she refuses to follow fate's plan. She bares her teeth defiantly. For a split second, she reminds me of Cassiopeia. Where is she, my sister? My companion? The only one who knows my pain and shares my hate?

Don't think of her,Cassius murmurs. She is a traitor.

Was she? I can't remember. He won't let me remember.

"I want to," the fae says, her voice soft, but a broken note gives her fear away. She knows she never will. She hopes in spite of everything—the dank, dark reality around her. How pathetic it is. How sickly sweet.

I should laugh in her face.

"How will you?" I ask. "Can you fly, little fae?"

I've seen her smooth back marred by a tapestry of scars; I know she can't. Her wince confirms that she knows it too. Her limitations are many. After all, she is an abominable creature. She shouldn't exist. No power, no specialization distinguishes her.

However, when she presses her hand against my chest...

Fuck. It's magnetic. Even Cassius' fingers don't hold the same sway. Her hands are so fucking delicate I could break them. I snatch for her wrist and grip it tight. But my eyes are on hers, and I don't look away.

I can't.

"You come in here unnoticed," she murmurs, her voice deadly soft. She knows her words are sinful—so she whispers them as if that makes the rebellion less so. Still, I'm listening. I'm leaning toward her, silly little fae. Damn, I strain to catch every word.

Corruption is fun, but having her hope to dangle on a string? That is an entirely new game.

No, Caspian,Cassius warns. Betrayal.

I ignore him. I'll deal with him later. Make a trade. Whatever price is worth this, making her say what I know she will. She wants something from me—in the same way I want her to make new words spill into this chained, slave-mind. She'll ask.

Voice scratching the air, she starts, "You can…"

"Say it," I snarl when she trails off into silence. I run my thumb over her mouth and pry those pink lips apart. "Say it. Tell me what you want, little fae. Ask me."

Her breath coats my fingers as she utters, "You can help me leave."

Her eyes widen. Oh dear. She's said such a dangerous fucking thing. Never ever has she voiced as much out loud. Never has she begged anyone for a damn thing. Not even him. Especially not him, the creeping male fae.

Because she knows he would refuse.

So will I.

As long as she doesn't bite her lip like she does now. If her breathing doesn't hitch. Fuck, until I feel her hands creep up to the bare skin of my throat am I sure that I'll deny her. Silly little fae. Who is she to demand anything of me?

"And what will you give me?" I ask.

"I told you." She swallows. "Anything."

The price, however, is too high. Whatever I take from her, I'll inflict upon myself—a double-edged sword. Things I've denied for centuries or decades. Why the fuck can't I remember? In any case, no. She isn't worth one night of sin with that sick motherfucker.

She isn't worth debasing myself before him.

Good,he murmurs. Spying, jealous Cassius. I can let you have hundreds of bodies. You can let loose on the city. Have anyone you want.

For him. In the end, anyone I take will always belong to him. But not her. I can own this fae, and he can never, ever touch her. She'll be mine…

Unfortunately, the price is too high.

So, I laugh in her face. "You think you are worth the risk?" I ask her. "To go against the council is to risk prison or worse."

It's clear from her frown that she knows the answer without having to speak. Of course, she isn't worthy. Isn't a prize. She isn't worth the one kiss—two, three, four—that I'll have to give Cassius in exchange.

I wait for her to confess as much. Admit it to herself and to me. She's worthless. Even so, she cannot say it. Then I see why—glistening wet drops shining in her eyes. Those tears I've fantasized about causing.

I should grin in triumph.

"Stop." I jab my thumb to the corner of her eye and feel the wet warmth as if force alone can keep any more at bay. Too late. Another falls onto the pad of my finger, and I watch it shimmer there. Then I crush it in a fist. "I said stop it."

I shove her against the wall. The shock alone should shut her up. Make her stop. Those tears… I want them, but not now. Not like this.

"Fucking, stop!" I press my face to hers. I'll glare those tears away. Fear will make her stop. Shut up. I need her to shut the fuck up.

"I…" Her lips quiver. She's still trying to answer my question. Is she worthy? "No. I'm not. I know I'm not?—"

"Then why ask?" My voice is a rasp. Curiosity is what roughens it, nothing else. Certainly not concern as those eyes continue to well and more tears fall. "Why?"

She blinks, sending two droplets down those hollow cheeks. "I need to know."

I grip her thin shoulders. Shake her so hard her head rears back. "What?"

She inhales raggedly. Licks those uneven lips. "I… I need to know if there is more out there. More than this."

Her words linger in the air, a longing confession. One I should laugh at. Spit at. Taunt. I would do all three if it would make her stop fucking sobbing, silent and frozen. She doesn't even flinch as I lower my mouth near her ear, at the curve of her throat. That racing pulse beckons in an unsteady thumping. I could bite her now, give her something to truly sob over.

Instead…

"A day to think," I hiss into her reddening flesh. She gasps, trying to blink the tears back. Fuck her. She's ruining everything. Her punishment comes swiftly—I step back and force her to meet my gaze. Then I press a finger against the corners of both black eyes and smear any residual tears into nothingness.

"Stop crying. Give me a day to think." I'm a good enough liar that she believes me. She swallows. Gasps for air. Nods.

I can have a day, a reluctant request. A way to stall for time. No way in hell will I help her.

No way in fucking hell.

I shove her back and turn away. No taunting goodbye. No threat to come tomorrow.

Because I won't. This game has gone far enough. I'll see her again at the ceremony when I can bite and tear and take what I'm owed. Not her body, but the next best thing.

The only thing that matters.

I'll have her life in the palm of my hands, and that is all I want.