Page 119 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

Sabine released her daughter, her head dropping as she gathered the remnants of her pride. Sabine was accustomed to making orders not answering questions. But when she finally drew herself together, she looked at each of us in turn. “There is a price on their heads. Even telling you puts one on mine. We must warn them before it’s too late.”

“What?” Camila shouted. “Who would do that?”

“The Council,” she said grimly. “Thea was safe in Venice. The Council would never move against a Queen here and, even if they did, the city’s magic would protect her. As long as she is in Venice, she’s damn near immortal. I’ve been trying to undo the mess those two made, trying to convince the Council to have mercy. But Selah wants Thea’s head on a platter as well as anyone caught protecting her. She’ll see this as her opportunity.”

I didn’t have to ask why the Council wanted Thea dead. It hadn’t occurred to me that being in Venice was keeping them safe. But was telling Sabine more dangerous than contacting them myself? She was on the Council. She hated Thea. It could be a trick. I wouldn’t put it past her to feign concern only so she could make her own strike against her unwanted daughter-in-law.

Before I could process this, Sabine had me by the throat. I hadn’t even seen her move. Camila and Lysander charged toward her but she held up a hand. “This is between the two of us, but please believe me when I say, I will rip her pretty little head off her body if she doesn’t answer me in the next ten seconds. Where are they?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

THEA

It turned out that it didn’t matter what hours Celia kept. Despite delivering the test within hours of Julian’s message, it was still sitting in the bag on the bathroom counter.

Three days later.

I just hadn’t been able to face it yet.

Julian stalked into the bathroom, stretching his arms over his head and giving me a view of his sharply hewn abs. My eyes flickered up to the mark that he bore on his chest—the symbol of my throne and a reminder that our lives were now bound as one. It was also a harsh reminder of the duty I was currently shirking—one I’d decided I didn’t want. A grin hooked his face as he caught me staring, and I quickly looked away before he realized I wasn’t just ogling him. I was doing something worse.

I was thinking.

Something that had been expressly forbidden for the remainder of our trip.

Unfortunately, given the circumstances, I found myself thinking a lot. About our future and babies and my crown and babies. Mostly, babies. As far as my mate was concerned, I was knocked up. I wouldn’t be convinced until I took the test.

“Planning to stop torturing me this morning?” He wrapped his strong arms around me, instantly undoing the towel I had knotted around myself after my shower. I grabbed it before it fell to the ground. My eyes found him in the mirror’s reflection, and I tried to look innocent.

“Torturing?” I blinked.

“I can hear what you’re thinking.” He nipped the shell of my ear softly. “If you aren’t ready to take it, don’t.”

It was what he’d said the last two mornings. He was being both frustratingly understanding—because he was perfect—and annoyingly smug—because he was convinced he knew what that “unnecessary” test would reveal.

“If you’re so desperate to see what it says, why don’t you pee on it?” I forced a smile.

His eyes narrowed as he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“I guess you’ll have to wait then.” I pulled away from him and gathered my wet hair into a loose bun. As soon as it was up, he spun me around and back into his arms. I sighed, content to be where I belonged, despite everything. “There’s plenty of time to worry about that later.”

That was what I’d told him every time he asked. Considering he’d conveniently stopped opening new bottles of wine and kept within arm’s reach of me at all times, I wasn’t exactly sure why I was waiting either. Like it or not, Julian was already acting like I was pregnant.

“What do we have planned for the day?” I asked, eager to steer the conversation away from the status of my womb.

“Well, we could stay here,” he said, sliding his hands under the towel to grip my hips. His bare palms sent a shiver of dark magic coursing through me. “What was yesterday’s record?”

“I lost count.” We’d gone away to be alone, and we hadn’t wasted that time. If I didn’t think he was so sure that I was already carrying his child, I would suspect he was trying to get pregnant.

He lifted a brow that told me he’d caught that thought. “And if I am?”

My eyes shuttered as he angled his head lower, his mouth cruising along my jaw toward my throat. “I’m not stopping you.”

I pressed closer to him, my body responding to the one thing I was certain of. Julian tugged the towel from me and dropped it on the tile floor. His hands drifted up my body to cradle my neck. His lips were soft and searching, and I was lost in a blissful moment, no longer worrying about the future. My fingers tangled in his hair, dragging him closer, wanting to feel the hardness of his body against mine.

Suddenly, he pulled back, and I moaned. His lips moved, smiling against mine. “But I actually have plans for us today,” he said, his voice low and husky.

My eyes popped open. “Plans? Real plans or ‘beat the record you set for number of orgasms you give me in a single day’ plans?”

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