Page 106 of Claimed By Fangs and Darkness
“I love romance,” he said.
Lord Conrad rolled his eyes.
Juliette watched us with a deepening frown.
“The subplot with the coup, led by the incubus fellow—what was his name?”
“Andrew,” I said.
Aster’s face was weirdly genuine and animated. “Loved it. Spectacular. Though I didn’t enjoy the protagonist’s ultimate decision.”
“Of course you didn’t. What would you know about martyrdom?” I asked softly, unthinking, before I closed my mouth tight.
Aster paused. Then he chuckled. He glanced down at my lips, only amused by my provocation. “I find your brain very attractive, Evie. I like that you’re well-read, that you can keep up.”
Juliette was glowering now, her lip curling. When she noticed me looking at her, she was quick to wipe the expression from her face entirely.
“Sir, can we read together tonight?” she asked, resting her chin on her folded hands. “I love fantasy books,” she said, her voice an octave higher and softer when she spoke to Aster than when she’d spoken to me during our confrontation.
“Of course, kitten,” Aster said, peeling his eyes off me to answer her.
When he turned back to me, his features almost appeared conspiratorial—as if to signal to me that he, too, saw Juliette’s pathetic jealousy. Juliette didn’t miss it, this subtle shift, the sway of Aster’s attention and fascination. His placation of her childishness.
I lifted the glass of water to my mouth, and Aster tracked the movement. Yearning swam in his eyes, once again focused on my lips.
“I had a dream last night,” Juliette said loudly. “Of a man with pretty black hair and blue eyes.”
I stiffened, but I didn’t take the bait.
Aster appeared irritated by Juliette’s outburst. “What happened in your dream, sweetheart?”
Conrad took a swig of his chalice of blood. At first he looked bored, but then his eyes focused on me. Something shifted, a slight cock of his head.
“His head fell off,” Juliette giggled.
The glass in my hand shattered.
A hush fell over the room. Aster stared at my hand, the gashes across my palm that now oozed blood. Juliette stopped laughing.
“Fuck, that smellsheavenly,” a vampire across the table groaned.
Aster’s pupils dilated. He inhaled deeply, and I held my breath.
His mouth opened, and I prepared to fight, to run, to wield my power.
“Fetch a bandage,” he commanded to one of the attendants. He then glared at Juliette. “Bad girl,” he hissed.
“I didn’t do anything!” she yelled.
Annoyed born glared her way, while others were far more focused on my hand dramatically oozing blood on the chocolate cake below as if it were a rich, fudge topping being drizzled especially for each of them.
Conrad’s nostrils flared, but his eyes were trained on my face. Assessing. Curious.
I was so deep in fight-or-flight that I let Aster take my hand into his. He carefully pulled shards of glass from my palm as I winced.
“It’s just the one that’s deep,” he murmured, inspecting my wounds.
He pulled my palm closer as he craned his head.
