Page 126 of Viripotent

“Are they dead?”

I’ll hunt the fucker down and kill him myself if they aren’t.

He strokes my jaw and hesitates. The air in my lungs freezes at his low, emotionless question.

“Which video did you watch, meelaya?”

A part of me dies. There should never be an instance where this conversation has plurals. Once is hell enough. The gentle voice comes again, and Vlad smiles proudly, offering me an option.

“Was there blood on my face?”

I nod, matching his pride, and he laughs lightly, with satisfaction filling his icy eyes.

“That one’s dead. Took him a month.”

A month isn’t long enough, he should have spent his entire fucking life being eaten alive and having acid dripped into his dirty fucking dick. I don’t know why I ask for confirmation that I already have.

“There’s more?”

I hope the action comforts him like it does me as I thread my fingers through his hair and massage his scalp. The smile in front of me is nothing but warm and he lifts my hand off his cheek, kissing my pulse point on my wrist he strokes his thumb against my skin and more of me dies.

“I don’t know the exact number,” he says easily. Too easily, without any emotion or opinion on the topic.

My voice is steel, filled with murderous conviction and a promise I’ll never break.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

He pauses, blinks at me once, and then his head falls back from the force of his laugh. Pulling on his nape so he takes meseriously, the bastard doesn’t stop laughing, shaking me on his thighs.

“Ok moya koroleva, with your incredible aim.”

His sarcastic comment is unneeded, and his eye roll definitely is. My pout is audible as I cross my arms over my chest.

“I didn’t miss.”

He stands with me in his arms and acts like an asshole, muttering under his breath but making sure it’s loud enough for me to hear.

“Yeah, let’s hope you don’tchange your mindwith your toothbrush because your breath smells like shit.”

Every argument I could say disappears, and I lean forward, hiding my face. I fight the urge to smell my own breath, and his chest shakes, making me drop my legs, turning as immature as the idiot.

I should breathe right in his fucking face, but I act with class and wriggle to be put down. He sets me on my feet, and I storm towards the bathroom, ignoring the laugh floating behind me. The asshole has started hiding his toothbrush, so I can’t put it in the toilet anymore.He still follows me to check and wraps his arms around me from behind. I don’t focus on how awful I look. I’m sure he’ll point all my defects out to me.

I glare through the mirror at the stupid smirk warning me he’s about to say something. He thinks better of it and keeps his mouth shut by blocking the words with his lips pressed to my crown. This feels right, and I hug his arms for more reasons than I like the look of them and sink into his chest. My voice lowers, and I soften fully, feeling nervous.

“You know you can tell me anything, that I’ll always protect your secrets as if they’re my own?”

He takes a controlled breath and I wait. He doesn’t say anything and dips his head to kiss my neck and deflect.

“Brush your teeth. Your breath is stinking up the place.”

There’s no heat to the words, and I finally understand him.

I do what he says for my own comfort, and he continues kissing my neck. He turns serious as he straightens, and the orders come out when I can’t argue.

“I never want you at any of the fights.”

Spitting the toothpaste out so I can refuse, he hardens and holds me tighter. His voice is deadly in warning as he cuts off any argument before it can be voiced.

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