Page 14 of Crimson Devotion
One of my younger brothers, Valerio, leans against the doorframe. As per usual, he’s lacking clothes, barely wearing a thing. He’s never had a sense of decorum, and I don’t know why I expected him to suddenly become sensible.
“My dearest sister,’’ he greets, a hint of mockery on his tongue. His eyes, though, hold a certain softness that he doesn’t reveal to just anyone. My eyebrows narrow, and I wait for him toapproach — which he does by pushing himself off the wall, then crossing the distance in a couple of long, purposeful strides. “You look unwell. Is everything alright?”
“Let me guess…’’ I roll my eyes. “You were the one who sent Faith here.’’
He hums. “That obvious?”
“No one else would dare. Out of our siblings, at least. Cassius is somewhere across the globe, chasing after Juliana and trying to stop her from doing reckless things, though I doubt he’s successful. Darius is likely moping around, trying to figure out a way to be with his beloved again. Lucifer is asleep, and that leaves you, Valerio.’’
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the sound oddly jarring. “You forgot about Aurelia.’’
A deep groan comes from me, and I slump into my seat. “That nuisance is probably getting drunk, or alternatively, going after werewolves and killing them.’’
Valerio snorts, then walks over to the big desk that belongs to Lucifer. The old quill is still on top of the unfinished parchment, filled with dust, just as he had left it two hundred years ago. He pulls the bottom drawer open, whipping out a bottle of old whiskey. He digs again, until he finds two glasses and comes to sit across from me.
He pours the whiskey into both glasses, sliding one over the desk to me. I catch it with ease, taking a small sip. The burning sensation causes tension leave my body, eyes closing as I savor the taste.
“Speaking of Aurie and her hatred toward werewolves,’’ he begins, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Any idea why she hates them that much?”
I lift a shoulder. “It’s Aurelia. It doesn’t take a lot to piss her off. Who knows what one poor werewolf did to her, and now she’s holding a grudge.’’
Valerio chuckles, drinking from his glass. “She’ll piss off the wrong person one of these days and pay the price.’’
“Eh, doubtful. If she’s anything, she’s strong. She won’t go down without a fight.’’
“What…what are these?” Valerio changes the subject quickly, motioning with his head toward the stack of books on the small table between us. His eyes dart along the spines, reading the titles. His brows lift to his hairline, then slowly, he looks back at me.
“Books,’’ I mumble.
“I can tell that,’’ he snorts. “Why are you reading books about fated mates?”
A shiver runs down my spine when he asks the question, and for a moment, I mull it over in my head. How the hell am I supposed to explain to Valerio that I believe the little hunter to be my mate? Mates are incredibly rare, and in my five-hundred and forty-eight years that I’ve been alive, I’ve only heard of them twice. I’ve never met a couple that were mates, hence I believed it to be nothing but a fable.
“Why did you send her here, Valerio?” I ask, trying to calm the storm that my mind has become.
“Because I believed it’d be fun to watch. And you haven’t had fresh human blood in ages.’’
My eyes narrow a fraction. “That cannot possibly be the only reason.’’
“It’s not,’’ he admits. “She smells like you.’’
I blink, taken aback. My hand trembles a little, and I tighten my grip on the glass, before downing the whiskey at once. The glass shatters in my hands from the excessive force, but I ignore the way small pieces of glass fall all over my lap.
“She what?!”
Valerio nods slowly, carefully observing my reaction. “I was in the woods when I got a sniff of it. I knew it couldn’t have beenyou because you didn’t have your bracelet, and I doubt you would’ve left the castle unattended. I got curious, and lo-and-behold, it was the little hunter. Surrounded by a dozen of dead vampires, no less. For good measure, I approached her, sniffed her, and honestly, gagged. The flowery scent was never really my thing.’’
“She smelled like me? That’s why you sent her?”
His eyes dip down to the books again, before he brings them back to my face. Valerio is a smart man; he understands why I’ve been reading the books, and the severity of the situation.
“Yes. It’s strange, really. Us vampires have a distinctive scent, mixed with the one we had as humans. She shouldn’t smell like a vampire, Ophi. Even when bathed in their blood, she shouldn’t smell like a vampire, let alone you.’’
“Yeah, I figured.’’
“What happened?” he asks, leaning forward, completely ignoring the shattered glass. It’s not the first time he’s witnessed my small outbursts. “You clearly have a reason to believe she’s your mate. Why?”
I take a deep breath.
