Page 48 of Princess Broken

He looks so contrite, like Alexei often did when he displeased my older sisters, Olga or Tatiana, who were often impatient with Maria and me, but even more so with Alexei, the youngest.

But although Flame’s expression is boyish and contrite, everything else about him reads MAN. My heart accelerates, reacting to the combination of compassion and raw power flowing from inside this handsome blond vampire kneeling before me.

“No need to apologize.” I stroke his thumbs with mine, his hands so much bigger than my own. “You needn’t be afraid to mention Timur.”

Flame looks up into my eyes. “Timur? That was his name?”

I nod.

Flame gets back to his feet and keeps hold of one of my hands as we continue toward the guest room. His large hand around mine feels comforting, not strange or threatening, although I realize that, I’ve never held hands with a man before yesterday with Blade. Not since I became an adult. And I love the feeling of security and warmth that it’s giving me. A sense of closeness too.

“So you were turned two hundred years ago. What of the others?”

“We were all turned around the same time,” Flame says softly. “By the Master.”

“The Master?” The word sends chills racing through me, and I turn toward him.

Keeping his gaze straight ahead, he nods.

“Did you all…” The word master implies an answer, but I want to confirm. “Did you consent to your transitions?”

“Oh, yes. Full consent.” His answer surprises me. “Conversion was the highest honor at the Institute. Our graduation day, if you will.”

“The Institute. Is that a school?” I think of the academy attached to the palace.

He shrugs. “It’s where we lived, where we learned, so yeah, I guess you could call it a school.”

“How long did you live there?”

We arrive in the room they called their games room. The one with the entrance to my bedroom.

“Not sure.” Flame sets the bag containing my clothes on the floor near my door.

Gratitude flickers inside me at this small gesture of respect for my privacy, creating the illusion that I have a modicum of control, that I truly am a guest here and not a prisoner.

“Ready to go feed?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Too tired?”

I am, but I shake my head no to that too. I’d rather continue this conversation, find out more about these men while I have one of them on his own. On his own and not trapping me against a wall with his erection grinding against me, that is.

“Want to play a game of something, or work out?” He laughs. “I guess the gym’s out in that dress.”

“Can we just sit and talk for a while?”

He gestures toward the main part of the room. There are at least four choices where we could sit, but instinct tells me to choose the chairs close to the fireplace. Flame might be most comfortable there.

I slide into one of the large leather chairs. It’s very deep and wide—they all are—and if I were wearing my normal choice of dress, a long gown, I could easily sit cross-legged or tuck up one leg, but even if this dress would allow that position, it would feel indecent. Instead I tuck both legs to one side and lean slightly onto the thick arm of the chair.

As I settle, Crusher’s scent fills my head—this must be his chair—and I can almost feel his strong arms holding me again, like when he carried me.

My eyes flicker shut.

“You okay?” Flame asks.

“Yes. Very well.” I open my eyes, wishing my mouth weren’t so dry. It’s now making my voice weak and crackly.

---