Page 38 of Heir

Because you’re a beastly stranger she doesn’t know, who showed up at her house without any pants on.

Right!

I needed to do better.

“What can I do to help?” I asked, and genuinely meaning it.

She appeared exhausted and barely able to keep her eyes open, but there was still a fire there, still a spark that I longed to get to know better. With a weary sigh, she glanced at me. “Figure out how we can get rid of this whole Fated Mates bullshit, because it’s not fucking happening.” Then she trudged toward a closed bedroom door, slipped inside, and didn’t come back out.

We all turned our attention to her friend.

“What are you looking at me for?” Gemma asked. “I’m not your Fated Mate. And thank fuck for that.” She took a bite of her pizza.

“What was Omaera’s upbringing like?” I asked, eager to know as much about my mate as possible, figuring her best friend was the best source for that information.

Gemma eyed us all curiously. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you anything?”

“Because you love her and want what is best for her. And what is best for her is allowing her mates to properly claim her. So that she is protected and cared for,” Drak said. His tone was so dry and patronizing. Like he figured all of this was a no-brainer and humans should just understand. I mean it was a no-brainer to me, but to someone who just learned about our world, it had to be a lot to take in. Vampires were such robotic, emotionless dicks. And this one was no different. Why couldn’t he just disappear?

“We still haven’t even addressed the problem that this human knows of the Realm,” Maxar said, gesturing to Gemma.

“This human?” Gemma snapped. “Excuse me?”

I exchanged looks with Drak, then we both glanced at Maxar. “You do what I think you’re thinking and Omaera will burn your balls off before she accepts your brand.”

“That’s your mark?” Gemma asked with a squeak. “You have to brand her?”

“She’ll enjoy it,” he said without missing a beat before turning to me. “I wasn’t thinking of killing her. But finding a spellcaster to wipe her memory isn’t the worst idea.”

Gemma lunged for the mace that sat on the kitchen island. “Nobody is wiping my fucking memory. You got that?”

“You can’t wipe Omaera’s memory. So wiping her friend’s memory would piss off Omaera. Try again,” I said, shaking my head at the stupid fire mage. I went back to the couch and dug into my third pizza box.

“Is me knowing about your realm a bad thing?” Gemma asked, still pointing the mace at us. It might piss off a real black bear, but it’d do absolutely nothing to me. I wasn’t about to tell her that though. It was better that humans feared us.

They already feared so many things that they didn’t know. Their beliefs were wack.

“It is,” Drak said, sitting there apathetically with such a punchable face. “Humans are not permitted to know of our world. And if they do learn of it, we either wipe their memories or eliminate them.”

“You kill humans who find out about you?” Gemma’s voice was high-pitched enough, dogs were probably howling somewhere.

“We try not to,” Drak replied. “But as a form of preservation for our world, sometimes it’s necessary.”

“Well, you’re not wiping my memory or killing me. So—”

“No, we’re not,” I replied, taking a bite of my honey-barbecue chicken pizza. “But you need to swear on . . . whatever is sacred to you, that you won’t tell a soul about our world. About what you know and will learn. Humans are . . .”

“Unevolved. Stupid. Terrified. Selfish. And ruled by an antiquated patriarchal ideology that should have died out centuries ago,” Maxar said.

Well, he wasn’t wrong. But I was planning to be less insulting.

“I won’t tell a soul,” Gemma said, glaring at Maxar. “Not all of us are unevolved, stupid, selfish, or terrified. I agree with you about the antiquated patriarchal ideology though.”

“No, you actually have to swear on something,” I said. “Like it will bind your promise, and if you mutter a word, that promise will break and bad things will happen.”

Her green-hazel eyes went wide. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Drak said, his tone as even and dry as a fucking endless desert.

---