Page 14 of The Night Runs Red

“Congratulations. You are smarter than a machine.”

My hands clenched around the marble countertop as I pursed my lips. Gods above, he was an ass. An utter, inconsiderate ass that I was now married to. For better or worse, and until death do us part. That didn’t mean I couldn’t give as well as I could take.

I turned around, pasting a saccharine smile on my face. “How did you sleep, darling husband?”

“I didn’t,” he said, setting the tablet down and leveling me with an unamused look. “But you already knew that.”

“I did not,” I began before he raised his eyebrows, my shoulders slumping. “It’s called polite conversation, Rion. Look it up.”

“Can’t say I am a fan.”

I brought my coffee to my lips, savoring the taste and smell. “Are you a fan of anything?” I muttered to myself before turning around and taking a sip. Getting through to him would be more complicated than I thought, but I liked the challenge. Eventually, I would break his icy shield, and instead of this cold, bitter banter, he might see me as a friend.

“No.” Goosebumps prickled against my skin as I felt his presence behind me, lips skimming the sensitive skin along my ear. Hot breath fanned the back of my neck, and I couldn’t stop myself from closing my eyes as his arms caged me in on either side.

“I forgot how fast vampyres could move,” I murmured, fighting to control my erratic heart. My experience with Rion’s people was limited at best. I’d only ever met one, which happened to be my husband’s father. My memory was hazy on the events; I’d been so little, but I remember Ramsey as a kind soul.

Rion let loose a deep chuckle. “Do not forget the exceptional hearing, too.” He dropped his voice lower. “It is hard to have private conversations in this kitchen without being overheard.” As I faced him, he pulled back and leaned against the island opposite me. One long leg crossed the other as his hands slid into the pockets of his slacks. “Such as ones you have early in the morning with my bodyguard in my house—”

“Our house,” I said, correcting him. He cocked an eyebrow, clearly unamused at my declaration. “You said it was your house, but this is our house. I live here now, too.”

“It is my family home,” he argued, widening his stance.

I smirked before going in for the kill. “Yes, and by Kallistos law, as your wife, what’s yours is mine, baby.” I’d probably regret my taunts, but I felt a rush when his nostrils flared. Must have hit a nerve. Without a second thought, I stepped forward and pressed my palm against his cheek. “So, this is our home now—especially if it’s to become my new prison.”

I brushed past him, needing to be anywhere but here before my adrenaline dissipated. I’d only taken two steps when he grasped my arm and pulled me into his body. Suddenly, we were nose to nose, every thought eddying from my mind. The comforting aroma of my coffee was dominated by the well-worn leather of his cologne and sharp remnants of his toothpaste as he crowded my space.

“This is not your prison,” he said, gaze dropping to my parted lips. “You are free to come and go as you please. And if you are already so eager to go back to your father, where the whole city knows you are abused, all you need to do is say the word. I can dissolve our marriage right now. By evening, you could be back in your childhood bedroom, locking your door and praying your father does not take his drunken anger out on you while you enjoy what is left of your life before the blood moon.”

I couldn’t breathe as his cruel yet true words sunk in. My body betrayed me as Rion’s nose brushed my own. Whatever this was between us needed to stop. I warred with infatuation and infuriation, unsure of which to act upon or what I truly felt. Did I want to pull him closer? Or push him away before he could play with my heart?

“What will it be, Calia?”

“I don’t want to die.” It was the closest sentiment I could utter out loud without making myself sick, because I didn’t want to say what I truly felt.

I want to stay with you.

His grip loosened around my bicep, as if the contact with my skin had burned him. I reached for the counter to stop myself from stumbling backward. He was so hot and cold; I couldn’t get a reading on who he was or why he did the things he did. But I knew one thing.

I wanted to find out.

CHAPTER TEN

Rion moved back to the table and began picking at the plate of food before him. “Take a seat,” he said, wiping the corner of his mouth. “We have much to discuss.”

He was the picture of nonchalance, acting as though nothing had happened between us. My erratically beating heart was proof otherwise. “I was going to make something for breakfast.” I pointed at the fridge where I’d seen freshly cut fruit earlier.

“That is what I have staff for. Come and sit.”

Before I could answer, a small man scurried into the kitchen. He began ushering me to the table, where my mug of coffee suddenly sat next to a glass of what looked like freshly squeezed orange juice. “What would you like to eat this morning?” he asked, averting his eyes so we never met.

“Um, fresh fruit, please.” Rion grumbled something about needing protein from the other side of the table. “And some eggs would be great, thank you.”

The man dipped his head and began flitting around the kitchen at such a high speed he practically became a blur. Before long, he placed my breakfast before me, and my mouth watered. The scent of fresh herbs and butter from the eggs filled the air, and I groaned as I took my first bite. “Shit, this is good,” I said, covering my mouth. The man smiled shyly before dipping his head again and running out of the room, the breeze comically fluttering a loose strand of my hair as he passed by.

Rion's scrutinizing gaze scanned me from head to toe, the unwelcome sensation causing a blush to creep along my already heated cheeks. I had no way of knowing what he was thinking, but I was sure I wasn’t the type of woman that came to mind when he pictured his wife. I’d seen the tabloids, the women draped on his arm at public events. I glanced down at my thick thighs, shifting slightly in my seat.

Across the table, his hand tightened into a fist, causing me to shrink back. Whatever he saw in me, I was sure it was disappointing.

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