Page 52 of Blood Descendants
“Any bodies I put in the ground tonight are all your fault, Vengeance,” he growls, pulling me in close, his breath sliding down my neck as he delivers the words. “Others looking at you makes me feel a little… vicious. But, fuck, who could keep their eyes off you?”
Heat climbs my cheeks as my eyes rise to meet his. I see something new in Ares’ eyes that I haven’t seen before. A darkness is there. Possession. Violence. Feral hunger.
It pours gasoline on the fire that’s already burning in me, the one he lit the second I saw him inthat suit.
“I picked this one for you,” I shamelessly confess as Ares wraps a hand around my waist, his palm sliding low, only a hair away from being positioned on my ass. I cover his hand with my own, ensuring he doesn’t move it.
“You’re playing with fire, Vengeance,” he leans in, saying the words to my exposed, bare shoulder before pressing his hot lips to my skin.
Shit. I am going to absolutely combust and burn this fantastic dress to embers.
We walk through the doors and, effortlessly, Ares guides us back into the building until we step into a beautiful ballroom. And my jaw drops.
Everything gleams and glitters. The chandeliers are wild. There are gauzy drapes hanging from everything, making the room feel elegant and intimate. Every furnishing is covered in black velvet. The tables are covered with white tablecloths, and the center pieces look like they cost more than I make in a month. And everyone in attendance is dressed to the nines. Tuxedoes, gowns, elaborate hair, and professional makeup. It’s the kind of event you only see in movies.
“Lana,” a familiar voice calls from behind. I turn to see Sysco walking up, a smug smile on his face. “Aren’t you motive for murder tonight?”
They might deliver it in varying ways, but Sysco and Ares are not that different.
“Good to see you, Sysco,” I say as he takes my hand and brings it up to press a kiss to the back of it. Ares watches him closely, still evaluating the man. I want to tell him he’s got nothing to worry about and that he should just accept the inevitable, these two are going to be friends one day, but maybenow isn’t the time, not when Ares is feeling all possessive with me wearing this dress.
“Ares, you’re looking sharp,” Sysco says with an oblivious smile as he looks my date up and down. “Bold choice with the red. Don’t get offended if I steal the idea for the next preening event.”
“Copycat,” Ares says, the first tiny joke I’ve heard him make. And a small smile cracks the corners of his mouth. “Where’s your date tonight?”
“Not all of us are blessed with perfect better halves, my brother,” Sysco says, still smiling as he surveys the crowd. And I realize I don’t actually know who the hell all these people are or why we’re even here. “My control might be flawless in day-to-day life, but in the bedroom?” He shakes his head. “Might be a while before I dare test that again. How do you manage it, Ares? ‘Cause, trust me, we’re all aware of how you smell, Lana.”
“Which is?” I blurt out, he catches me so off guard with the words.
“Like dessert,” Ares and Sysco say at the same time.
Oh yeah. Ares already told me.
“Trust me, it’s no easy task,” Ares answers Sysco’s question, even as he pulls me in closer, looking down at me like, indeed, he’d like to devour me whole. “But when you’re this obsessed with someone, you’ll do anything to keep them around.”
His words send a cascade of electricity down my spine. I swallow once as I stare into those intense hazel eyes.
“Damn, that’s beautiful.” The words should sound sarcastic, but they absolutely aren’t when Sysco says them. “I’ll see you guys later. I’ve got a bone to pick with Montana.”
I don’t know who the hell Montana is, but Sysco strides off across the ballroom.
Ares’ words are still echoing in the back of my brain, looping around my organs, settling somewhere low in my belly. But addressing them is way too damn dangerous. So, instead, I look around for a distraction.
“What is this ball actually for?” I ask, circling back around to my previous thought. “Besides proving to Giovanni and Cliff that you’re ready to be a Baron?”
“Look,” Ares says, nodding to a table across the space. At it, there are four children seated, accompanied by a very pregnant woman who looks like she’s spent the entire day prepping to be here, but annoyed at the same time.
Ares nods toward another table. There, I find a set of unquestionably triplet girls who look around fifteen years old. And with them are a set of twin boys who seem just a few years younger.
“The Barons are showing off their families,” Ares says. “Those are Giovanni’s kids. And that’s Cliff’s wife and kids.”
Ares turns, and I follow his line of sight. At another table, I see a woman looking incredibly uncomfortable. With her, she has two children, a boy who looks around six and a girl who I would guess is eight. “Those are some of Augustus’ other children.”
Ares’ half siblings. Though from the look on his face, he doesn’t see them that way. And who could blame him when Augustus breeds them and leaves them until they’re a useful age for him?
“Damn, they’re serious about this breeding program,” I say, a sneer barely suppressed from my face.
“I can just imagine the disappointment on Augustus’ facewhen we have to tell them you’re not pregnant,” Ares says, keeping his tone low so as to not be overheard.
