Yet she wondered, and realized that whether he wanted to kiss her or not, she wasn't indifferent to, or even repulsed by the idea in the slightest.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
In Sutrelle, his intense gaze had elicited an unfamiliar sensation rising from the pit of her stomach into her chest. Now, a similar feeling spread through her at the thought of kissing him, but this time, it was strong enough to provide the words to describe it—and the implication left her speechless with only one thought coming to mind.
It can't be!
— THIRTEEN —
Mathias' plan was backfiring, and it was questionable how much more he could take.
In Sutrelle, Isadora had enough gumption to offer a slap in response to his aggression, making it seem likely that she'd struggle now. So he'd grabbed her hoping to prove once and for all that her curiosity was dangerous.
That he was dangerous.
But she didn't struggle, not even to demand her release. Of course, her heart was now racing, yet the fae only stared with parted lips, her beautiful, ocean blue eyes wide, as if in awe.
Why was she gazing at him so reverently? The expression made it hard to believe the reason for her elevated pulse was fear, though it was just as doubtful his closeness was the cause.
Even if it was, he couldn't be having as profound an impact on her as she was on him—the way her body felt pressed to his was too perfect to describe, leaving him aching for a taste of much more than her blood.
It was impossible not to imagine how soft her lips would be against his own, or the way she might respond, saying she invited such attention. Would she clutch him tighter? Moan into his mouth for more?
The thoughts overwhelmed him so completely that he nearly forgot his intentions of explaining just how irresistible she was in favor of showing it with a hard kiss.
“How did you get up here?”
The demand came from the bar area, and Mathias was so wound up fighting his urges he immediately released Isadora and turned around to snap at the speaker for the intrusion. Yet he stopped short in spying a human male wearing a gray jumpsuit at the door—a custodian judging by his large cart of cleaning supplies.
The sight served as a reminder of their location at a closed poolside bar on a hotel rooftop, and the custodian was obviously confused—until he saw Isadora.
That's when his expression softened a great deal, his silent stare allowing the fae to answer, “Don't worry, we'll leave soon. So would you mind giving us a few minutes alone?”
Dimly, the human nodded in agreement. “Sure, I'm due for a break anyway,” he replied, offering Isadora a smile before turning around to go back inside, leaving his cart behind.
As the door shut, Mathias couldn't help thinking the interruption was actually well timed. If a single moment more had passed, he would've made a huge mistake, unwilling to risk cementing Isadora's lack of wariness with a kiss, or just angering her and delaying their return to the Spire.
Still, her ability to charm mortals wasn't entirely convenient considering it would be better if they left right away rather than spend more time alone.
“How do you influence humans so easily?” he asked, turning to face her. “Does it take a conscious effort?”
She shrugged. “No, we just have a natural influence over life, and humans are highly susceptible, particularly when they don't know what we are.”
With that said, she waved a hand at him and asked in a change of subject, “So uh … tell me something. Before that man interrupted, were you about to … bite me?”
Following her question, the fae briefly looked down at her shoes, and when her gaze returned, a blush lit her cheeks in adding, “Because you weren't staring at my neck … .”
No, I wasn't, he thought, trying to keep his eyes from traveling back to her lips now and rekindling the urge to kiss her all over again.
Still, her question offered the chance to chide, “You believed I was about to bite you, but you didn't struggle?”
“I wasn't sure!” she countered. “That's why I'm asking. So were you?”
Growling in frustration, he retorted, “I told you to assume I'm always planning on it, and yes, I'd thought about it then, too. I also wanted to kiss you.”
A bewildered look overcame her, voice taking on a scandalous edge in asking, “You did?”
Mathias nearly scoffed, reminding himself that Isadora was an unmated fae who wasn't likely to comprehend the allure of such physical activities, or even fully understand where they led. So she'd naturally sound shocked by the news, and he decided not to mince words in responding.
“Of course I did. When I say you're irresistible in more ways than one, I mean your blood isn't the only thing I'd like to taste, fae.”
Still staring with widened eyes, she took a step back. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
His answer had her taking another step, unwitting of the direction in which she moved. But Mathias was fully aware, and attempted to warn her.
“Isadora, you're about to—”
“Then you think I'm—ah!”
A splash of water accompanied her sharp yelp—as she'd backed away in disbelief, the fae's foot hit the edge of the pool, causing her to stumble in.
Though it would've been easy to move swiftly enough to prevent the mishap, he was too curious to see if her distraction would cause her to fall—and now that she had, he wasn't certain what to think.
Walking over to crouch at the edge, a sense of guilt assailed him, though the sensation dissipated once her head breached the surface.
With her chestnut hair covering most of her face, a loud squeal of laughter sounded before the fae cried, “Holy crap, it's cold!”
The joyful exclamation had him smiling right along with her, though he didn't realize it until she swiped her hair out of her eyes and looked up with a soft gasp.
“Oh! You have a wonderful smile!”
If possible, his smile grew even bigger. “Do I then?”
She offered a definitive nod and started paddling toward the edge where he'd crouched to lift a hand and request, “Help me out.”
Without qualm, he reached down to grasp her palm, ready to pull her from the water the moment their fingers clasped. Yet a mischievous light glinting in her sapphire eyes served as a warning, and at the last moment, he braced instead.
Surely enough, the fae tugged on his hand, obviously trying to pull him into the water with her. But her strength was outmatched, and without budging, a smirk curled his lips just as her own pursed in defeat.
“You don't really think I'm going to fall for that, do you?”
A moment of silence passed before Isadora gasped, then erupted in abrupt laughter that almost had her sinking below the water's surface again.
If not for her grip on his hand, she probably would've.
Instead, her back hit the wall of the pool beneath him as she gasped for breath, retorting, “Fine!” followed by slinging an arm up to splash him in the face.
Swiftly, Mathias transformed most of his body into mist, allowing the water to pass through without getting wet. The only part of his anatomy that remained solid was his hand clasping hers—and Isadora seemed impressed.
“Hey! I didn't know vampires could transform certain parts of their body!”
Quickly reforming, he reached for her other hand and tugged her up out of the water while answering, “They can't. It's not a skill Terran vampires are taught. To the best of my knowledge, only Maddox and I know how, though she may be helping Stephan to learn.”
Settling the fae on her feet and releasing her hands, it was difficult not to stare at the way her wet tank top clung to her breasts as she twisted her hair to wring the water out. The cloth outlined their shape perfectly, which wasn't large, but they were high set and nicely ample.
From there, his eyes trailed over the rest of her curves, finding not a single point on her body was unpleasant to behold—specifically in wet clothing. Though short
in stature, her legs seemed long with round hips, her overall build best described as lithe, and as she lifted the hem of her top to twist, a single oddity captured his attention.
Isadora didn't have a navel.
Mathias nearly pointed it out as she adjourned to one of the lounge chairs to grab a rolled-up towel laid out for the hotel guests. But she beat him to the punch with a question of her own.
“Maddox is your daughter, right?”
Forgetting her absent navel for the time being, he answered, “Yes.”
Peering at him curiously, Isadora inquired, “How does that work? I mean … do vampires view all the people they've turned as children?”
He checked a frown, unsure he wanted to discuss this topic for numerous reasons. Still, he gave a brief summary on an annoyed tone that might deter her inquiry.
“It depends on the blood bond. Some are like children, some are siblings.”
At first, it seemed his ploy had worked as the fae was too busy patting herself down with the towel to ask questions. Yet she soon inquired, “Do you know which they'll be before they're turned?”
Releasing an inaudible sigh, he answered, “There's a link in the blood that tells us.”
“Really?” Removing her soaked tennis shoes, she stood straight and walked over barefoot, asking, “Then is Maddox your only child?”
“Yes.”
The answer seemed to surprise the fae. “You've only turned one person in five thousand years?”
“No.”
“Oh, then you've had others but … oh!”
Gasping as if she'd just put two and two together, the fae rushed out, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—”
“Don't worry about it,” he interrupted, glad to let the topic go while lifting a hand in offering. “Let's just return to the Spire before we're missed.”
With a nod, she accepted his hand, allowing him to transport them back to the sanctuary—and he undertook the trip in confusion.
With only a few exceptions, their conversation by the pool had been rather pleasant. Of course, her beauty and scent were distracting, but the desire to take her blood wasn't as overwhelming as expected, making it seem possible to remain in casual company with the fae after all.
But was that a blessing, or a curse?
He'd wondered before if the temptation Isadora presented wasn't solely based on blood, and their interactions so far seemed to confirm it. Had they kissed, deep down he knew it would've sated him well enough to make other desires more bearable, at least temporarily.
The notion made it seem as if sampling her blood without killing her could actually be possible—and that was the one thing he couldn't allow himself to believe.
No matter how satisfied he was in any other way, it wouldn't be enough. She could give him the most passionate night he'd ever had, and the moment he sank his fangs into her flesh, he wouldn't be able to stop. Her blood would entice him beyond reason, and by the time he realized what was happening, it would be too late.
The thought angered him, and he kept that anger close. Perhaps convincing Isadora that he was dangerous through aggression wasn't possible. He'd already tried and failed several times, but he'd never allow himself to forget what was at stake, and rage was a potent reminder.
After all, losing family to his enemies was one thing, but to lose a lover by his own hand?
He'd never forgive himself.
— FOURTEEN —
Isadora felt like a lit fuse attached to a bomb with no idea what would happen once it exploded.
Her discovery on the hotel's roof consumed her thoughts all the way back to the Spire, distracting her to the point of ignoring the trip in mist despite her enjoyment of traveling in that form. Even the surprise of finding Victoria waiting in their quarters with Maddox, Stephan, and the sorceress, Chandra, wasn't enough to take her mind from it.
When she and Mathias entered the suite, the group was discussing the matters at hand, and despite their location in a peaceful sanctuary, it was strange to find a draconian conversing so casually with two vampires.
As for Chandra, the sorceress was dressed as regally as ever with her dark hair swept up beneath an elegant silver headdress decorated by several onyx gems. But where she usually behaved stoically, there was an urgent look in her piercing eyes which redoubled the moment she laid them on Isadora and Mathias.
Furthermore, she had no compunctions over interrupting the conversation at hand by approaching the pair to ask, “Where's Heliger?”
Shutting the door, Isadora exchanged a brief look with Mathias, uncertain she wanted to get caught in a lengthy conversation about what happened when she was still reeling over … everything that had happened. Instead, she wanted to speak with Victoria in private to confirm her suspicions, or at least get everything off her chest.
So she was thankful when Mathias answered, “He's interrogating a human Sylva sent to kill Rossi, and he shouldn't take long.”
Whatever Chandra thought of the explanation remained a mystery—the sorceress was truly a master of masking her emotions, saying she even possessed them. Still, she must've believed the vampire because she didn't request more input on the matter, and merely inquired, “You're Mathias?”
“I am,” he started, adding, “and you must be Chandra. He's told me a bit.”
Arching a slender brow, the sorceress proceeded to inquire over Heliger's stay in Sutrelle, and their exchange allowed Isadora to slip away undetected while silently motioning at Victoria to join her in the bedroom.
Following her lead, the draconian stepped inside where Isadora shut the door to keep anyone from noticing, then began pacing across the room.
“Are you okay?” Victoria asked, looking her over before adding, “And why are you wet?”
Rolling her eyes over the memory of her unexpected dip in the pool, Isadora muttered, “Long story, and I don't know if I'm okay or not, but I'm glad you got here so fast because I need to tell you something big, like huge big, and I have no idea what to think of it.”
With a concerned look, the draconian prompted, “What? Did Mathias hurt you?”
“No, he didn't, though he keeps trying to prove he's dangerous only to save my life afterward.”
Stating the last bit blandly, she paced in the opposite direction and continued under her breath, “Stupid, arrogant, handsome, sexy vampire … .”
“Wait, wait,” Victoria rushed with a shake of her head. “Did you just call him … sexy?”
Finally, Isadora stopped pacing and stared at her friend with pursed lips, reluctantly nodding in confirmation. “Yeah, I did.”
Eyes widening, the draconian stepped in closer to ask conspiratorially, “Are you actually attracted to him?”
Though her lips parted to answer, Isadora wasn't sure she could say it aloud. Ever since her discovery on the hotel's roof, she'd been unwilling to jump to conclusions for fear of being disappointed later.
But if anyone could help her figure this out, it was Victoria, and she finally gave an answer by asking a question.
“Do you remember when Adriana first met Bryant, and how she described getting butterflies in her stomach?”
“Yeah.”
Nodding, Isadora resumed her pacing again while admitting, “I've felt the same thing. Ever since I met this vampire, he's seemed intriguing, and I … I … ”
Trailing, she couldn't get the words past her confused doubt until Victoria urged, “You what?”
The draconian's tone was so intrigued that she finally threw her arms up and rushed, “I think I want to kiss him!”
Spinning around to look up at her friend, she found Victoria staring as if torn between excitement, and utter confusion, and it wasn't hard to guess why. If the flutters in her stomach were related to physical arousal, it could mean only one thing.
Mathias was … her mate.
And she couldn't fathom how that was possible.
A vampire and a fae? She couldn't think of two more opposite, unsuitable people, an
d it almost seemed cruel. How many times had she wished for companionship over the centuries? To learn why her sisters seemed so happy once mated to another? She'd visited bars and strip clubs, thrown masquerades and hosted parties all in the hopes of meeting someone worthy, only to find herself drawn to a male who'd never be satisfied unless he was drinking her blood.
Still, she hadn't forgotten his confession that her blood wasn't the only thing tempting him. He'd freely admitted his desire to kiss her as well—and she wanted to see what would happen so badly she almost turned to walk through the door and find out.
Furthermore, she wasn't one bit ashamed of it. No matter how odd things seemed, the urge felt natural, as if she had every right to desire such contact with the vampire.
Still, it was impossible to ignore that he was indeed a vampire, and Victoria had no compunctions pointing out why.
“Isadora, he'd drain you completely, and you can't even sense him.”
“I know,” she groaned, “but you can't sense the men you find arousing, so I don't think that has much to do with it.”
“Good point,” the draconian conceded, then waved a hand and asked, “So what do you want to do? Have you ever heard of any fae finding a mate in a vampire before?”
“No, never, which bothers me because I have no idea how it's even possible, or what to expect. Still … it makes me wonder.”
“About what?”
Resuming her pacing, Isadora answered, “For starters, Mathias is an ancient, powerful vampire, and I should be petrified by his presence alone. But I'm not. I haven't felt as if my life was in immediate danger from him once since we met, and I had no idea why.”
Stopping near the window, she turned to face her friend and stated, “Now, I wonder if it's instinct, nature's way of telling me I don't need to fear him.”
Victoria considered it for a moment, then mentioned her brother, Ulric, in responding, “Yules was driven to Charlotte by instinct. She was only mortal, but he knew something more was there without knowing what.”
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