Page 57 of Vampires of Eden: Oliver
“Perfect. I want this for you.” She steps forward, pulling my hand. “It’s a good experience and you need this, but I want to know how it started—all of the details. If your eyes alighted, too. Have they?”
Amused at her enthusiasm, I grin. “They have.”
“Excellent. This is downright scandalous. Aries is so handsome—those long legs and that perfect tight and high ass. Nice going, sweetie.”
“Please stop, Sash. No thank you.”
“He’s a bit old for you, though. Is he over a hundred? Can you handle that kind of vampire—one so worldly and progressive?”
I lift my chin because I feel incensed about this point. “He’s ninety-five, and if our vampiric natures don’t seem to care about those things, then why should I?”
She giggles, and as we round the corner back into the main garden, Alexander turns his head, watching our every move. “Touché,” she says. “Can’t argue with your nature. But what’s the endgame plan? You know that this can only go so far, right? Regardless of what your nature says. Lord Blakeley would never accept this. Not ever.”
“I know that, Sash. You don’t need to remind me.”
“I’m not trying to lecture you. I just… don’t want you brokenhearted and even more miserable than you were before Aries arrived. Embrace it and be grateful for what it is.”
We’re close to the crowd, so I don’t respond. The thought of losing Aries makes my chest tight—like a slow-moving shadow spreading all through me, darkening and corroding everything in nothingness and despair. I know it’s inevitable, but I can’t think about that right now.
Sasha unlinks my arm and seductively struts toward Elaine across the garden, dumping me in close proximity to Alexander. She’s putting on a show for the onlookers and she’s good at it—as if she’s eager to be close to her proposed mate, even though it’s been two years and they still haven’t bonded.
I’m not nearly as convincing as I trudge over to Alexander. I probably look like I’d rather walk in a different direction. Or, I don’t know, off a rooftop or into a pit of vipers. Wherever else.
“Have a nice sibling chat?” Alexander asks.
A waitress walks toward us, her palm lifted as she balances a silver tray of bubbling champagne flutes. Alexander has one in his hand already, but smoothly, he grabs a second glass and hands it to me. The waitress smiles awkwardly, curtsies and continues moving through the crowd.
“It was fine,” I say, taking hold of the stem.
“What did you talk about?”
Is that any of his business? “Sibling stuff,” I say, borrowing his phrase. I take a sip of champagne. It’s dry and the fizzy sensation tickles my nose.
“My parents only had me, so I’ve always wondered what it’s like to have a brother or sister. Seems nice.”
“It can be. Sometimes.”
Alexander takes a long sip from his glass. When it’s empty, he stares down into it. “I wonder… if there’s less pressure and expectation from your parents because there are more of you? Like, a table that can balance and hold everything with multiple legs instead of just one. It must be better than standing on your own all the time.”
Mildly surprised, I look him over. “Well, not necessarily.”
He raises his gaze from the glass and smiles. “I’ll finally be two table legs after the wedding, at least? You and me.”
Not knowing what to say, I take a sip of my champagne. I’m rescued from the odd moment when the mayor of Upper Avalon, a thin, gangly vampire with a head full of smartly trimmed brown hair, greets us with a deep bow.
“Ah, the handsome young couple,” he says, grinning ear to ear. “My humblest congratulations to you both on your upcoming union.”
“Thank you, Lord Darrick.” Alexander smiles warmly, like a switch being turned on. His easy charm oozes like cream flowing over a coffee cup. “That’s very kind of you.”
“It is my honor,” the thin vampire gushes with his hands clasped. “We’re thrilled to be hosting the final celebratory fête within the southwestern realm next week. And thank you, your highness, in advance for the generous contribution to our housing development project—pending the completion of this lovely arrangement, of course. Thatched roofing just doesn’t hold up like it used to in these changing weather patterns.”
“We’re happy to contribute,” Alexander assures him. “We can’t have our citizens living in tattered houses, can we?”
“We certainly cannot—we should take better care of our community.”
“I agree, completely,” Alexander says.
“Thank you, your grace.”
