Page 57 of The Serpent's Bride
Raziel sat on the edge of the tub and began to bathe her. Yet somehow, despite the fact that he was the one tending to her, playing nursemaid, shampooing her hair and tending to her like she were his princess, she couldn’t help but feel like this was a warning shot.
As he gave her a satin slip to wear and tucked her into sleep, kissing her gently and vowing to wake her in four hours to ensure that her concussion wouldn’t trouble her…
She still somehowknew.
That Raziel Nostrom had just declared war.
And now the game was truly on.
SIXTEEN
When Raziel went to wake his new wife around two in the afternoon the next day, she let out a whine and shoved her head under the pillow.
It was so adorable, he had to chuckle. The creature he had found himself wed to was a fascinating contradiction in terms. Capable of such violence, yet strangely innocent at times.
And there was nothing in this world he enjoyed more than a good puzzle.
Picking up the pillow, he laughed as she whined again.
“Come, now. Get dressed, little murderer. The family is having a meeting, and Mother has insisted that you attend.”
She groaned. “Why? She hates me.”
A good question. One he had asked his mother himself. “Because word has already spread through the boys how you walked yourself out of that abattoir. I believe she wants to hear the story for herself. And she feels you might want to hear what is about to happen.”
His wife lifted her head and looked up at him, bleary-eyed. It was clear she wasn’t entertained by the idea and had likely been looking forward to sleeping for another ten hours. But with a heavy sigh, she rubbed her hands over her face, grunted, androlled over onto her side to climb out of bed without another complaint.
Standing from the edge of the bed, he went to the bathroom to finish brushing out his hair. He was already dressed. “Clothes are in the wardrobe for you, there.” He gestured at the piece of furniture in question. He had it stocked with clothing for her the day prior.
It was only a few minutes before she was dressed and ready, and though she was still clearly exhausted, her expression was set into one of quiet determination. Her stomach growled loud enough that he heard it from across the room.
He smirked. “Yes, there will be food.”
“Don’t look at me like that,Iwasn’t the one who asked.” She smirked back at him. “But thank the moons. I don’t think I managed to actually eat anything yesterday.”
“I was warned that one generally doesn’t at one’s wedding.” He opened his door to the hallway, letting her step out first before following her out. “I admit I did not quite believe them.” He led her through the corridor and down the stairs. He could hear his family already gathered in his parlor.
He, too, was starving. But as he would likely be doing most of the talking, he knew he would have to wait to fill his stomach. And sadly, what he truly wished to fill it with—his little murderer’s blood—was still off the menu for a couple of days. Or at least, that was what Dr. Williams had insisted upon.
Whether or not he could actually wait that long remained to be seen.
Raziel noticed that his new wife hung back as they approached the dining room, likely not wanting to stride in first. He didn’t say as he blamed her. His family was a bitmuch,even for him.
Perhaps especially for him.
Bracing himself for what was about to follow, he squared his shoulders, and walked in.
Lords, Nadi was cranky. She ached like she’d been in a train accident. She was starving. Her concussion had faded to a dull headache. And the stitches in her side were starting toitchas they began to heal. Luckily, fae healed quickly. Unfortunately, that meant she’d have to keep going into the bathroom to reopen the wound to hide the fact that she wasn’t human. She wasn’t sure if the creepy doctor would check her wound for infections, but she was certain Raziel would notice if it healed too fast.
Explaining away the quickly healing bruises was one thing. That, she could just shrug away and blame on luck and genetics. But a bullet wound being gone in days instead of weeks? And leaving no scar? That would raise instant suspicion.
And another thing that was making her cranky in no small part was the fact that she was having to walk into the lion’s den first thing upon waking up. At least Raziel went in first. She used him as a shield as he led the way into his parlor. There was food on a table set up along one wall—sandwiches, finger foods, things like that.
Ignoring the stares from the gathered vampires, she went straight for the table. Everyone was in attendance.
Mael was standing by one wall, arms folded across his massive chest, his handsome features fixed into a scowl.
Lana was sitting in a chair, prim and perfect as ever, with Azazel perched on the arm next to her.
