I guess he’s not properly devouring me by their standards.
A new song comes on, and he starts dancing against me as he kisses me a little harder. Chatter starts back up around us, and Arion starts smiling against my lips.
I finally relax, still kissing him, and finding it really hard to stop kissing him…
He slowly breaks his lips away from mine, journeying toward my neck. My head lulls to the side, even as my legs wind tighter around his waist.
One of his hands slides up my thigh as he kisses one spot on my neck—a spot he seems to find over and over.
It isn’t until my eyes open and land on Shera’s back, as she tries to block us from my father, that I realize…my dad is back.
Arion notes my distraction, and he looks over before he grins and moves to my ear. “You’ll invite me in now, right?”
“Hell no,” I tell him seriously, swinging my gaze toward him like he’s lost his mind.
His smile falls as confusion creases his brow.
“My omega wolves are there, and you just almost killed a girl for being flirty. Those wolves stay flirty.”
He blinks in surprise, and his gaze narrows. “Then you should put them in their place.”
“It’s doubtful they’ll flirt with you, considering you’re certifiably insane,” I hiss.
He looks genuinely baffled as I hop off the table, smooth out my clothes, and shake my head.
“You step in front of me when I’m seconds from losing control, yet you don’t trust me enough to let me in your home?” he asks incredulously.
“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Arion,” I tell him on a frustrated breath. “But it’s not just me. And they are being respectful, at least in their own way. They’re there because they think it’s rude to continue living with Emit.”
“It is rude,” he assures me like I need to know this. “More than that, it’d be offensive.”
“I’m not even sure what rules you guys live by at all at this point,” I tell him as I walk back to the table, where my poor dad is glowing red.
“Sorry,” I tell him tightly.
He clears his throat and bats his hand. “I remember the early days and how they work. Lose control from time to time,” he says very awkwardly.
Shera snorts, and I glare at her as she takes her seat beside him.
Arion drops to the seat next to me, seeming more agitated now that I still refuse to give him an invite.
“So, how did you two kids meet?” Dad asks, and Shera’s grin just grows wider as she drinks from her black cup, soaking in this really messed up moment.
Arion getting called a kid by my father…
Arion’s lips twitch, his agitation fading with the distraction.
“I’m interested in this myself,” Shera drawls, eyes on me like she’s oh-so suspicious.
“It’s really not an interesting story. Much like my toothpaste, it just sort of happened,” I explain tightly.
Even if I could give details without forgetting the words the second my mouth opened to share them, I still wouldn’t.
Dad would possibly never call again.
I can’t explain that to Arion unless I tell him I’m a monster. Shouldn’t matter at this point. The other three already know.
But what if he then sees me as real competition to Idun and I become like that girl who was just on the wall? I doubt Idun would show me the same mercy.
It cements the notion that Arion should be off limits.
I shouldn’t be kissing him like I plan to invite him in.
I shouldn’t be struggling with this decision in any shape or form.
I blame it on my inability to die. I do fucked up shit because I just seem to keep on trucking no matter what really happens around me.
It’s hard to think about a man so loyal he’d kill another woman for trying to steal him away. I also wonder what that says about Idun…since he seemed to think it should be expected of him on date number one. Or is this considered date number two?
That’s not important. The important part is…my life is too complicated. Yep.
Chapter 17
ARION
She’s far more vexing than I anticipated.
This was supposed to be the easy part. She’s supposed to already be mine.
What did those other three do so wrong to fuck this all up for me? She’s more guarded now.
And why the bloody hell did she spare that girl? Surely she realizes by now how dangerous I am; therefore, my vampires are far more dangerous than some mangy little pups.
Even the omega vampires.
She looks weak. I’m letting her look weak because she essentially begged it of me.
It’s frustrating me all to hell, because these are not the rules.
She doesn’t push me away, but won’t invite me in. What’s the damn blockade in my road?
Shera isn’t a damn bit of help, despite the fact she’s also a woman.
Violet changes the subject, talking to her father about her birthday party. This man never acts very comfortable.
“And who’s Damien?” he asks when Violet slips and brings up his name.
She blinks, almost like she can’t believe she just did that, and I feel a sense of peace wash over me for whatever reason.
“A friend. Sort of,” she goes on, shaking her head.
“Glad it was fun,” he tells her, as though the only interest he had was in the other guy she named.
I contemplate slitting his throat when Violet’s face falls. I doubt she’d let me kill this useless tosser if she wouldn’t let me kill that damn disrespectful woman.
A drink is put on the table, and Violet glances up. “I didn’t order this.”
The bloke looks to me for permission to speak to her. At my nod, he shifts his gaze back to her.
“It was a token of appreciation from Amber. She owes you her life.”
He scurries off as I roll my bloody eyes.
Violet looks over, finds the woman who disrespected her with her back to us, and she stands to go to her. That woman really should have left.
“I feel like I’m missing something,” Thomas says. “How does Violet know her?”
Violet takes a seat by the woman, and the blonde’s eyes go so wide I think she’s going to wet herself.
Violet starts chatting as though everything is simply fine and normal. Every vampire in the bar can’t help but look at the scene in disbelief.
Then they quickly swing their gazes away when I narrow my eyes on them.
I can’t tell if she’s painting herself a target or impressing them with her brazen disregard of their attention.
“They only met recently,” Shera says to Thomas, though she sounds annoyed. “Has Violet always befriended the pathetic nobodies?” she adds on a sour note.
My lips twitch. I don’t know if I’ve actually ever witnessed Shera’s jealousy before. I’m certain she’s livid that she envies a young, pathetic vampire, since she’s been unable to truly befriend Violet, despite my request.
Thomas clears his throat and shrugs a shoulder when I shift my gaze to him for a moment. When he doesn’t do anything interesting, I return my attention to Violet, as she smiles like the sweet gypsy she is.
“She never bothered really making friends because she moved around a lot,” Thomas says vaguely.
I give a dry smile, not commenting. I doubt Violet wants him knowing that I know about the cult. She’s very elusive with her father, not giving him information, despite the fact he very well knows what it means to be a Portocale gypsy, I’m sure.
Marta certainly knew. How or why Violet remained oblivious for so long is still eluding me.
She’s heard the worst of it, according to Emit. She even knows my dark roots and is still letting me touch her. If she’d invite me in, she’d be almost perfect.
She, unfortunately, can never truly be perfect, though.
If we were still just men, then she absolutely would be perfect. Too perfect, to be honest.
My head starts to ache as I drink more of the blood, staving off the migraine. It’s getting too close to my turn to drop to the curse, regardless of the fact neither Vance nor Damien have gone under yet.
A few of the other omegas move toward her, like they can’t help but gravitate toward whatever conversation Violet is leading.
“I guess this town suits her,” Thomas goes on, as a group of them laugh at whatever she’s just said to them.
My lips tilt in a small smile, as Violet shakes her head, touching her heart with her hand, laughing with them. She glances over at me, and her smile tenses just a little, as her gaze stays locked like she can’t look away.
No one gets too close to her, since clearly they know better. They’re still too close for my comfort, but she seems to be riveting to them instead of seeming like the prey she did when we walked in.
I feel confident she’s still established dominance by simply having power over me, and I finally return my attention to her father.
“It’s like she’s a flame for the weak and pathetic. They all clamber to her,” Shera goes on, griping a little at this point, as she stares on in disbelief.
“She’s keeping it fair,” I say with a shrug and a smile, noting how Thomas is frowning.
“I don’t reckon she ever introduced us,” he says as he looks over at me, shrewd eyes assessing me.
My lips curve in a grin. “Most people just call me Arion.”