Idun can’t stand to be taunted. Especially by me. It’s the gravest insult.
“Given all your pride, arrogance, ego, and superficial emotions, it’ll be easy for you to see how they must have felt, now that you see revenge isn’t an option. Maybe you’ll grow. Maybe you’ll rot. Maybe Caroline will drive you mad with what I hear are some vivid wish-she-were-dead windows into the past.”
I shrug a shoulder, relaying how little I truly care.
“Maybe even Caroline will eventually forget about you, and the only company you’ll ever have are the spare ghosts Violet has lying around,” I tell her.
“I’m not even going to get offended by that,” the jester chimes in. “Mostly because I don’t have emotions. I do love the way they taste, though. Idun gives off strong emotions. The empaths will never feel it though.”
It occurs to me, only now, how very well Violet planned out this punishment.
There’s Idun TV to appease all those worried about Idun’s return or true whereabouts.
Simple surroundings, a severed body, and ‘nothing fancy’ casings to demonstrate how powerless Idun has been left.
Apples and tar to obstruct all the scents.
And emotion-eating partial monsters to keep the empaths from being daunted by Idun’s likely overpowering, chaotic emotions.
Partial monsters who can also report to Violet immediately, in the event of a jailbreak.
As of now, there’s no known way to take away that advantage from Violet, because the salt illusions can’t be destroyed, captured, or killed.
“Stop thinking about how perfectly she’s designed to be a predator, and don’t even think of corrupting her,” Vance tells me without looking at me.
My grin falls.
I’m not nearly as mysterious as I think I am if he can see through me so easily.
“Violet has a fun side, Vance. Just a little—”
“Try to corrupt her, and your face will bleed worse and worse with each new attempt,” he carries on, still not looking at me.
“I’ll help hold you back while he wails on you,” Emit states in agreement.
Bloody socks in the sand, this lot. They were once so rowdy that I had to be the voice of reason.
“I’ll help you corrupt her in the bedroom,” Damien states to me, which has my smile returning.
The triplets appear so suddenly that I startle, and they give me a small wave, while grinning at me. Really, though, I’d rather the sex-kitten Anna be the one who stalks me, now that I know what’s going on.
They giggle and disappear, their voices lingering a moment longer.
“One. Two. Hyde’s got you,” their voices sing. “Three. Four. We’ll be back for more.”
I think Idun’s torso and legs pale. I know the color drains from Clyde’s face.
Vance sets up the camera, and I leave them to it.
Leaving the hidden room, I make my way through the eerily silent home, up the stairs, and straight into Violet’s room. I hear the shower running, and I smile, as I begin stripping out of my clothes.
The room is already fogged when I step in, but I can still see the delicate outline of Violet’s tempting body through the shower doors.
With as much stealth as I can muster, I step inside the shower, and…watch.
Chapter 53
VIOLET
A shower has never felt so good.
My stomach is still twisted in uneasy knots, worrying what happens next. Now my snowball has stopped, but it’s teetering on a steep ledge. It’s up to them if it gets knocked off or finally gets a rest.
My eyes open, and…I screech, jump, and damn near crash into the shower doors when I spot a person in the shower with me. In a blur of motion, arms come around me.
I’m spun against the wall, feeling the chill lick across my skin in the absence of the shower’s hot spray. Arion grins down at me, as the water pelts his back.
His dark eyes drink me in, and his lips are twisted in a wry grin.
“It’s a good thing you’re powerful, if you can’t even sense an alpha vampire so close to you anymore,” he says, hand running up my cheek, while his other drags my waist closer to him.
He’s still turned on.
That becomes entirely too obvious—and inconveniently distracting—when he presses me solidly up against his naked body.
My breath snakes out, as I manage to ask, “W-what are you doing? I thought I asked for a little time to myself?”
He shrugs a shoulder, eyes dipping to my chest, as his very naked, very hard, very tempting-in-all-the-best-ways body only presses closer to mine.
“You claimed Vance. Which is good. Vance does most of the legwork and deserves to go first on occasion, especially since he has no permanent bonds to offer anyone,” Arion tells me, as though he’s talking aloud to let me know he’s made peace with that. “Emit put his mark on you, which takes up a large portion of your back. Damien marked both your wrists, and as far as we know, it can never be undone. I’m okay with going last—on occasion. I’ve proven this. But please don’t leave me out, sweet monster.”
I’m so tired.
I’m emotionally drained.
I’m irritably exhausted.
I forget all that when he leans down, kissing the side of my neck, while I arch into him almost reflexively.
His skin is cool against mine, but my blood stirs in response.
I become hyper aware of every spot our wet bodies are touching, and he drags me that much closer, as he teases the skin of my throat with the tiniest hint of fang.
When my breathing gets heavier, and my nails dig into his shoulders, I feel him smile.
“I love the way you react to my touch. I’ve never had that before,” he murmurs, sliding a hand lower, until he’s squeezing a good handful of ass, that he uses as leverage to grind himself against me.
Swallowing gets harder.
My body…starts reacting.
As my heartbeat quickens and my body grows increasingly sensitive to every spot he awakens with his touch, he teases my throat with his fangs again.
“I love how you struggle to push me away, even though it’s all a game,” he carries on.
I don’t even bother arguing, because he never can understand. There’s a difference between being overwhelmed and indecisive about major life decisions made in the spur of the moment, versus playing games.
They’ve never been much on dating. They go straight from zero to all eternity. It’s more subtle with the other three. Arion is just bold enough to sound crazy aloud.
“I love every damn thing about you at this point, Violet Carmine. Surely, even without active empathic powers, you can feel that,” he says next to my ear, nipping my earlobe just enough to make my body jerk.
“Be my fucking bride. End my misery. Give in to me, and I swear I’ll be the best damn groom you can imagine.”
His eyes turn so serious, and for a moment, I see pure vulnerability in their depths. I relax against him, sighing.
Even if I fought him today, I’d still give in eventually. Arion’s the crazy sort of love I’ve always secretly wanted—just like Dracula in some of my most favorite versions. Though, in reality, it is way more intense than I could have imagined.
And it’s forever.
Which is scary.
But I’ve already signed up for forever with the others.
“I’m never going to be a doormat, and this doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want when it comes to me. I do have some ground rules for you, most especially, Vampyre,” I state in the firmest tone I can muster, hearing my voice only crack three times when he resumes kissing my neck.
I feel his grin again.
“I always told you that you’d be the one in need of the rules. I’m not opposed. Please tell me what these rules are, love.”
Everything on me is frazzled. My nerves, my senses, my desires, my reservations, my messy mind…it’s all chaos.
But instead of overthinking or holding back
, I turn my head, putting my lips closer to his ear.
“I’ll tell you later,” I murmur.
He lifts his head, quickly studies my eyes, and a dark grin emerges, nearly making me second guess myself.
“Is that your way of giving consent?” he muses.
“Keep talking, and I’ll come up with a way to take it back—”
My words end when his lips find mine, hungrily kissing me so deeply that my body goes damn near wild in reaction. I moan, but he swallows the sound, as my head starts growing foggy.
“My monster is only out for a moment,” he tells me, even as I struggle to understand his words, because the fog is so…intoxicatingly distracting. “It’ll actually be me claiming you the rest of the time I have you. Let’s pick up where we left off earlier, shall we?”
Somewhere, somehow, I hear violin music playing, as he continues to kiss me. My body moves with his, as the dance begins. He lifts me so that my feet are mere inches off the ground, while my body grows tighter and tighter, slightly different from before.
It gets even harder to think, and the world gets dizzying, as the fog expands, leaving us in a blurry roomful of people, who are watching us on the dancefloor.
The obscure faces slowly fade into nothing, as we take the room for ourselves. I’m not sure when he stopped kissing me, or when his lips moved to my neck, or when my lower half started aching in some pretty extreme, desperate, maddening ways.
What I do know is that it feels like hot ice shoots through my veins when his fangs sink into my throat.
It’s hypnotic.
It’s drugging.
It’s powerful.
It’s…just as consuming as I knew it’d be.
He becomes all that exists, and my body starts grinding against his, desperately seeking friction and as much touch as I can soak in.
He growls at my throat, and his grip gets tighter.
I’m not sure what happens. One second we’re in the shower. In the next, I’m pinned to the bathroom floor, and Arion is pushing inside me.
Wild.
Growly.
A little rough…
My nails slide against skin, desperately trying to pull him closer, as his body moves over mine with control, dominance, and more desperate desire than I’ve ever felt from anyone.
It’s the freedom and completeness in which he loves that scares me more than anything.
My eyes roll back in my head, my nails dig in deeper, and my back arches, lifting my body that much closer, when the sensations that have been building explode through my body with no mercy.
Arion only grows that much more aggressive, as my head rolls through that fog. It almost feels like my body detaches from my soul.
It all slams back to reality when pain surges through my neck. It’s brief, followed by a gentle kiss, even as a lingering burn begins to spread downward, traveling through my body with the blood in my veins.
His hand digs into my hair, as his kiss turns into another bite, stinging far less and feeling…more exciting this time.
My toes curl in anticipation of the next building wave of wild sensations that crash over me.
His mouth is suddenly on mine, stealing every last rational thought and replacing it with reckless abandon. His hips still inside me, and the kiss gradually fades from intensely fierce to almost reverent.
The slick floor beneath us becomes more and more obvious, as the fog leaves my brain with a chilled, bereft wake. I miss it immediately, because it feels like that’s a moment I’ll never get back.
Is it over already? Damien’s lasted for days. So did Emit’s.
I expected the vampire to be the same, and I feel slightly cheated. Not that I’d tell him as much.
Arion’s lips break from mine, and he pants for air, while possessively holding me to him. Inky-black, wispy hair hangs just shy of his eyes. When he lifts his head and he stares down at me, that lost-boy look is in his gaze once more.
My heart kicks my chest when his eyes glisten with just the tiniest hint of wetness.
He sighs a sigh that sounds like it’s been trapped for thousands of years, as his lips slowly curve in the most boyish grin I’ve ever seen him don.
My own stupid lips curve in response, because his smile is so real and free that it’s infectious.
“You’re my bride,” he murmurs, lips brushing over mine.
“I guess so,” I say, not having any other idea what to say right now, because…he was the last thing holding me back from thinking too much about the fact I’m semi-permanently or permanently tied to four guys for all or most of eternity.
I’ve been accused of having commitment issues in the past.
The grip he has on my hair loosens to a softer, gentler hold. The reality settles on me, and I try not to get really nervous. Loving Arion is too exciting for me too ever feel safe, because it’s like a constant roller coaster ride.
Part of me is so excited that I want to scream, but another part of me is terrified—
“Idun’s been kicked, baked, dropped, and fried! Now the vampire finally has his slutty bride!” Anna shouts…from what sounds like the damn rooftops.
I fucking hate her.
Swallowing hard, I watch Arion’s smile only grow less boyish and more darkly excited.
“You’re my bride,” he says again, this time his tone sounding decidedly more devious.
“Don’t make it scary, Arion,” I warn, narrowing my eyes at him, even as his look takes on shades of mischief.
“I’m a vampire. It’s my nature to be scary,” he says as though he’s assuring me of that.
Dipping his head, he kisses the side of my neck.
“Have another shower, love. There’s still soap in your hair, and I’ve certainly made a mess,” he says in a way that suggests he’s very proud of himself, being the typical, arrogant vampire he is once more. “We’ll celebrate properly.”
Seriously? He’s already leaving me?
This is…a little disappointing, but I try not to compare it to the others and start seeing it for what it is. We plunged into the vows, and then we immediately consummated the marriage. Now I can get ready for the honeymoon.
You know, like a mostly normal impromptu, low-key, cheap wedding and honeymoon.
It’s okay to be normal sometimes.
Feeling like a bad bridezilla for even considering feeling disappointed, I pull him to me and kiss him. Hard. Almost like an apology for a mistake he doesn’t know I made.
He makes a pleased sound against my mouth, and his hands roam freely across my body, in slow, methodical motions. Just as I’m extremely ready for round two, he abruptly breaks the kiss.
I barely bite back the curse on the tip of my tongue, since he immediately smiles down at me, bursting my crazy-girl anger bubble. His grin turns boyish once more, and like I can’t help myself, I mirror it once again.
There’s nothing but a breeze of chilled air in the room with me in the next instant, and I hear the door click shut.
Sighing, I stand up, look in the mirror, missing Arion already. I’m starting to think I’m way clingier than they are.
I watch my smile slowly fall away when I see the side of my neck.
Two small scars.
All those bites, and I only have two, already-healed wounds that are scarred. That must have been the bite that did whatever gypsy/bloodmagic/cosmic bonding thing that just happened.
How did this vampire bridal ceremony come about?
Are the Vampyres all this romantic?
Why is my smile taking up my whole face? I don’t feel so happy that I’m just bursting at the seams or anything.
But I can’t help the painful smile that won’t seem to go away. Anna pops up, props her hands under her chin, bats her lashes, and gives me a wistful sigh.
My smile flatlines the second I see her.
“You broke almost all the rules.”
She grins broader. “Only because I know them better than you do.”
“Only because you, my subconscious-capturing monster, suppress all the things you don’t want me to know.”
“Isn’t it freeing to finally be able to talk about it? Careful, though. They’ll be coming out of the cellar soon. Just waiting on Idun’s scent to be fully washed away,” she tacks on, speaking around a mock yawn. “Then you can curl up with your four boyfriends, who now want us—the real us, Violet.”
Us.
Me and my monster.
I’m still not okay with my monster.
“For the record, I really do hate you,” I tell her, giving her a dry look.
“For the record, they still think you’re sweet,” she adds.
“It’s because I’m nice. They can’t see the difference,” I say.
“Oh! I forgot something,” she says, her eyes widening as her very alarming grin grows.
She disappears from sight. In the next instant, there’s a memory—that’s not mine—that plays inside my head.
I know my eyes go round when I remember electrifying, slightly demolishing, and destroying my knock-off competition’s store…using Emit’s body to do the bulk of the dirty work.
Poor…Emit.
Covering my mouth, I gape into the mirror.
“Anna, that’s going too fucking far! I said no collateral damage, and you could have hurt him!”
There’s an echo of laughter, and I crack my neck to the side. This is going to be a very long eternity.
I officially have more cosmic baggage than all four of my very ancient boyfriends combined. I hope they’re ready for that, since they rushed into claiming me and all.
Besides poor Vance, who I don’t even know how to talk to right now.
“Trick me again, Anna, and I’ll start trusting you less and less,” I assure my scary, crazy, sly, diabolical, and mildly delusional monster.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” comes her voice, even though she remains unseen.
Eventually, I’ll get the hang of controlling all of this. Until then, I’m still apparently just along for the ride, but at least it’s not flying downhill at an outrageous skid anymore.
I’m in the slow lane.
Finally.
I hope.
I really frigging hope.
Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters Book 6) Page 48