Page 51 of Princess Avenged

“Yes, I have.” My back straightens.

She laughs. “I meant women you weren’t fucking.”

“Touché.” My cheeks heat again, and shame rushes through me. The way I treated women in the past, the way we all did…

Until I met Ana, I never thought women had much use beyond their holes. For that matter, it never crossed my mind to have a real conversation with anyone—male or female—beyond my brothers and our clients.

“But you’re right.” Her finger traces a raised vein on my forearm. “I learned to act feminine and refined as you put it. Both when I was a child and here as a vampire, I learned to act in the way that was expected of me.”

“You learned well.” I shift closer, her scent drawing me toward her and making my cock throb, my heart pound.

“Too well, perhaps.” She gazes so intently into my eyes I can see her entire life flashing inside hers.

I still have so many questions, but I feel like none of the answers will change the person I see right now, who she really is inside.

“You and your brothers,” she continues. “You’ve helped bring back the person I was born to be. You’ve reawakened the adventurous rebel. My inner brat.” She grins.

Lifting her hand, I kiss her palm, and a shiver of pleasure ripples through her.

“When I was a kid, I acted out too,” I tell her.

“Really?” She smiles. “I know so little about you, even though?—”

“Even though what?”

A flush rises on her soft cheeks and I kiss her palm again.

“Even though I feel like I know you so well.” Her hand cups my cheek, her thumb brushing my scar. “It seems strange to feel like I’ve known you forever, when I know so few details about you.”

I nod. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to be sorry.” Her tiny fingers shift inside my hold. “You were a very young child when you came to The Institute, right? What was your life like before that?”

Memories flash through my mind, overwhelming me, like they’ve risen from infinite depths. Memories I’ve used pain to tamp down anytime they threaten to rise.

My back straightens, and I drop her hand. I’m not wearing my forearm sheathes, but my fingers itch for a sharp edge, seeking relief from the deep pain inside me. My mind becomes consumed with the razor I have stashed in my pocket.

“What is it?” She leans toward me. “Blade. Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Closing my eyes, I shake my head, in awe of how well she reads me. “I think I just did.”

Her hand slides onto my thigh, anchoring me to the present, and my urge to cut myself decreases.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asks softly.

“Very much.” I open my eyes. “I’d love that very much.”

She looks at me with so much expectation and affection I nearly lose the memories, but they solidify, becoming clearer.

“I didn’t come to The Institute like the others. I was born there.”

“Really?”

I nod. “My parents worked for The Master.”

She leans forward. “Your parents were vampires?”

I shake my head. “No. Humans. Servants.” I frown, anger rising inside me. “Poorly treated servants.”

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