Page 9 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

“I feel fantastic,” he cut me off. “I feel like the Rio Oscuro itself is running in my veins.”

But it wasn’t just about him, and we both knew it. “I don’t want to be a monster,” I said, and my voice cracked.

“You will never be a monster,” he seethed. “The crown wouldn’t have chosen someone who could be easily corrupted.”

His words drew attention to the crown’s weight, and I ripped it off my head before throwing it onto one of the velvet couches.

Julian picked it up and carried it to the mantel. He held it for just a moment, its stone catching the light overhead. “Thea, you wear the crown, and you decide when you want it.”

I wished it was that simple, but something told me it wasn’t. Still, I understood what he meant. “I don’t want to wear it now.”

He placed it on the mantel and moved in front of it. I knew he understood what I meant. I wasn’t a Queen now. Not when it was just the two of us. Not after everything that had happened. There was only one thing I wanted to be—his mate—and only one place I wanted to be—in his arms.

He strode toward me, lifting his wrist, and in response, I held out my own. Neither of us spoke as we took the other’s offering. But as my fangs descended and pierced his vein, a moan spilled out along with his blood.

I barely remembered my time with Willem. My memories of it seemed hidden behind a veil. But I knew that the blood I’d tasted there could never compare to the sweet taste of my mate on my tongue.

His eyes blackened entirely but stayed on me as he took one slow swallow at a time. He didn’t rush even though I felt his need radiating from him. Maybe he was worried I wasn’t ready—that I was too weak—but after everything we’d endured, this was exactly what I needed. His body, his life, strengthening me as mine strengthened his. Magic flowed through his veins, perhaps some lingering effect of his resurrection. I tasted its spikes of spiced honey, and as his blood filled me, trickles of the light seemed to dance under my skin until I felt as full of magic as the water outside.

When Julian finally lowered my wrist, he brushed a single kiss over the wound. My eyes tracked the movement, my body remembering what it felt like to have his lips on other parts of my skin.

“Did you feed while...” I let my question trail away, but Julian’s head fell, hanging with shame, and I had my answer. I placed a soothing hand over his heart—over the bloodied patch of shirt where it had been pierced through. A shudder racked me, and I forced a tight smile. “I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to go without.”

But something else kept his head bowed, something heavier, and I wondered what guilt he carried. And what he’d done to cause that feeling.

“There were no lines I wouldn’t cross—no lines I didn’t cross,” he clarified in a gruff voice that sent a new wave of shivers cascading down my spine. “And I will not apologize.”

“I won’t ask you to.” Someday we might face the memories of the darkness together. We’d both been forced to do things that felt wrong. But in this moment, I refused to share even a piece of him with my guilt.

“You’re a mess,” I whispered to him.

His lips quirked into a crooked grin that made my heart skip. I forgot how to breathe. “I’ve got bad news for you,” he said. “You look even worse.”

“Maybe we should do something about that.”

He didn’t say another word. Instead, he took my hand and guided me from the living room into the attached bedroom. A king-sized bed with an ornately carved headboard held court in its center, covered in so many white pillows, I felt like I was walking amongst clouds. Their airy comfort was in direct contrast to the ink-blue walls. There were no stars to break up that darkness. It consumed the space around me, beckoning me to drift away into that starless sea. But over the large bed, a crescent moon hung pointed up at an unnatural angle so that its two sharp points held a smattering of stars. I stared at it a moment before looking more closely at the headboard underneath. It wasn’t vines twining along the frame but rather snakes wrapping themselves, their mouth swallowing the tails of their brethren. Only one serpent rose higher, its head extended and mouth reared as if waiting to swallow the oddly-placed moon.

“It looks like the throne,” I said to him, and he nodded.

“Your seat draws on the magic of change—transformation. It changes with the moon.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “That sounds complicated.”

“Magic always is.” He directed me past the bed into the attached bathroom. A large circular dub, big enough to fit both of us, sat in the center of the room. Its long faucet extended from the ground and arched over its edge. A drain in the corner of the room caught my attention and I discovered two shower heads over it. There were two sinks that seemed to be carved from moonstone on the far wall, and I guessed the other door led to a toilet.

Julian looked between the shower and the tub and back to me.

“Shower,” I said. His blood had revived me, but I didn’t trust myself not to fall asleep in that bathtub—and sleep was the last thing on my mind.

Especially as Julian began to unbutton his shirt. I let myself watch his fingers as they nimbly worked, drinking in the sight when he finally shucked it off his shoulders. The first thing I spotted was my engagement ring hanging from a chain he wore around his neck. But as he slid the shirt entirely off, my gaze followed and snagged on a mark, not unlike a tattoo, on his chest over his heart.

“What is that?” Somehow—to my horror—I already knew.

He glanced down, his forehead wrinkling as he took in the snake coiled there with a crescent moon in its mouth. “This was Ginerva’s symbol,” he told me, smirking a little. “Yours now. It seems you’ve left your mark on me.”

“The bond,” I murmured, realizing what it was. “They told me I would have to tie my life to yours. I didn’t know they meant literally.”

“You did what?” All hint of amusement gone.

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