We walk arm in arm back into the house. Neither of us speaks. This is a game. One that could be deadly for me if I misstep. Though I still don't understand why other vampires would care what he does with me. Alaric claimed me—that should be the only thing that matters.
But there is so much more to this than I ever anticipated. All I wanted to do was keep my sister safe and alive. I have spent the last month and a half trying to get back to her.
Once inside, I blink to adjust my eyes to the dim light. Standing in the doorway of the drawing room is the vampire from last night. He holds a goblet full of what I can only assume is blood.
“Run, little human. Hide. The others are coming, and they are far more dangerous than even I…”
His hazel eyes follow us. Nerves crawl up my spine.
Alaric guides my chin up with one finger. He gives me a tight smile and pulls me a little closer into his side.
The walk to my rooms has never felt so long. I can practically feel the gazes of all four of the vampire guests following us. Though I don’t see them, I know they are there.
I enter, turning to close the door, but he is already inside.
Alaric raises a brow as if he knew I’d intended to shut him out.
“Clara,” he starts, and there’s something in the way he says my name that makes me bristle. “If I mark you—”
“No,” I say, not even letting him finish. “We have been over this before. You know why I don’t want the mark.”
He looks distraught. Now I feel terrible for snapping. I step up to him. Genuine worry darkens his eyes. I reach up and brush my fingers along his brow to smooth away the frown lines. He is worried about my safety.
“I do not know what to do with you,” he says.
It would be insulting from someone else’s mouth, but he doesn’t mean it in the way a human or another vampire would.
“It will be okay.” I have no idea if that is true. It doesn’t matter, because we both see it for what it is—a useless platitude. But it’s all I have to give.
He steps back and nods. “I will continue to ask you to reconsider the mark until you change your mind, or you are safe.”
I grit my teeth until my jaw aches. He knows my answer will always be no.
“You know the laws, Clara. You have always known them. Once claimed, a human is at the whim of their vampire master until death.”
My eye twitches. Master. My heart races for the second time today, but now it is for an entirely different reason.
I am not a thing to be owned.
“Then what is the point of this charade?” I hiss, motioning between us. “If you are my master and I must fall to your will, then why not bite me now and be done with it? If what I want means so little, why pretend you are giving me a choice at all? Just force the mark on me already and be done with it. Or better yet, kill me.”
Baiting a vampire… not exactly a smart move on my part. One might actually believe I want to die.
His eyes narrow and he lets out a low snarl, fangs bared. I take an involuntary step back, but he advances, closing the distance between us until his chest is flush with mine.
“The point, dear Clara, is that the last thing I want is to have a human unwillingly tied to me for the remainder of their life.”
My eyes widen at the venom of his words. I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a hand, staying me.
“I continue to ask,” he says, his voice is soft and low. He looks exhausted. “Because I do not know of a better way to keep the others away from you.”
I’m not ready to let go of this argument, though there is little point in fighting for the sake of it when Alaric doesn't seem willing to continue.
“Fine,” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “Keep asking me if you must, but I can only promise to think about it. I don’t understand why you are pushing this. We’ve already agreed to—” Now it’s my turn to hesitate. “To-to make them believe I am yours.”
My heart pounds at hearing myself say those last three words. They are words I can’t mean, and it’s not something I can want. Xander is still waiting for me.
I turn to face the window and wrap my arms around my middle.
The view of the property and the tangled forest beyond has become more familiar than the one outside my bedroom window back in Littlemire.
“At least it won’t be for too long,” I say. There is a silence at my back that has me turning on him, eyes wide. My voice raises an octave, “Will it be long?”
The answer is in his unwillingness to look me in the eye. “There is more to the situation than I said earlier.”
I drop my arms to my side, my hand bumps against the blade at my hip. I have half a mind to run him through with it right now.
“Why did you withhold information you knew I would want? You say you need me to trust you, but then you do this. How can I trust you if you keep things from me?”
He's not cowed by my anger, but neither is he upset. “I need you to trust me to tell you what you need to know, when you need to know,” Alaric says evenly. “This is a lot to take in. I wanted to ease you into it—to give you the chance to process it all.”
It irritates me that his reasoning does make sense. I can’t help the part of me that wants to fight. It isn’t about him, or whatever information he held back, but rather everything I am struggling to hold on to and come to grips with.
“Out with it then,” I demand.
“They will be staying here through the end of the season.”
Black spots form across my vision. “That’s… that’s…”
Two months…
He continues as if what he said wasn’t anything to worry about. “Then, they will escort us both to Nightwich.”
“Go to Nightwich?” I sputter. “What about—”
Alaric holds up his hand. “Our stay there will only be a week. Two at most.”
I press my hand to my head. My vision wavers and I stumble slightly as my legs threaten to go out from under me. I might as well walk downstairs with open veins and offer myself up for dinner.
Alaric steps forward and grips my elbows, keeping me upright. I cling to his forearms, unable to stand without his support. This ruse of ours might as be for an eternity.
I’ve never been skilled in the art of lying. My expressions always end up giving me away. I don’t know if I can pretend for so long. Days, maybe. But months?
Now his insistence on marking me makes sense. Finding my legs again, I take a step back.
“This is impossible,” I say. The freedom he promised me slips from my fingers, like smoke from a doused fire.
“Perhaps it is, but without the mark, it is our only option.” He straightens his back and looks almost regal. “There will be several tasks, the first of which will be presenting you to my guests tonight.”
“Present me?”
“It is a simple matter and one of the things we must do to avoid their suspicions. Otherwise, they will wonder why I am hiding you.” His lips draw into a tight line.
I take in a breath then release it slowly.
“Tell me what being marked entails,” I say, then hold up a hand. “Not because I want it, but knowing will help me do what I need to do.”
Alaric’s eyes darken a shade. Then in a blink, he is a hair’s breadth away. His hands come up to cup my face, bringing his face closer. My eyes slide shut, ready for the kiss I’m sure will come.
“First,” he whispers, his breath brushing my lips. “There can be no attempts on my life.” One hand tangles in my hair, the other moves around my waist to pull me flush against him. “And second, you would not pull away.”
Alaric kisses along my jaw and down my neck. I try not to move or react, but my damned body has a mind of its own, pressing even closer to his.
“Yes, like that,” he says. “And it ends with you needing to obey my every word.” And then he releases me. The cold air contrasts with his embrace. My eyes snap open and Alaric stands halfway across the room.
I nearly gasp at the sudden loss of his warmth and the last thing he said. Shit… He manipulated me so easily.
I narrow my eyes.
“I am not your puppet,” I snap.
“This is not for me, my dear Clara, but so the others believe. You are—” he shakes his head. “I would never want you to be a mindless puppet. This is nothing more than a part we must play.”
“I hate this… it makes me feel like… like…”
“A possession?” he offers, with a hint of bitterness to his voice.
I nod.
“Then, you must remember, my dear Clara, that you are not.”
I clench my fists in the folds of my skirt. “You could always let me go.”
“I’m sorry, that is no longer an option. You have been claimed. The others know you live and who you are.”
It isn’t the answer I wanted, but in truth, I did not expect anything else. Still, knowing that does nothing to ease the ache in my heart.
Alaric backs away to leave. “Mrs. Westfield will be in shortly to help you prepare for the night.”
I nod. There is nothing else I can do.
He pauses long enough to say, “Remember to obey.”