Luis’ stomach rumbled loudly, but he couldn’t force himself to eat. It smelled heavenly, but the sickness in his stomach stopped him from even thinking of bringing the fork to his mouth. The main course, grilled meat with vegetables, might taste great, if only he could eat.
Carefully, he sorted the contents of his plate around so it would look like he’d eaten. He didn’t look up to see if anyone watched him. They could do what they wanted, but they couldn’t force him to eat.
Gerome and the king talked about the wedding, and the queen, thankfully, remained silent. Her one attempt to pull him into a conversation had been bad enough. He didn’t need that again.
The dinner dragged on, and Luis sat through four more courses. Then, finally, Gerome stood and told his parents good night. Luis got up as well, relieved he’d survived the evening so far. Now he could go back to the room he slept in, have some quiet time, and then nap. Maybe he could even get his stomach to accept some food later when nobody was watching. Right now, he doubted it.
Like an obedient dog, he followed Gerome back to the rooms, after he’d nodded a ‘good night’ to the king and queen. A dog. He wasn’t much more.
Gerome silently led him back to the apartment. They went in, and Luis steered toward the room he’d been using. There wasn’t anything left to say to Gerome.
“What the fuck were you thinking? Are you nuts to behave like a total asshole toward the king?” Gerome yelled, stopping Luis in his tracks and making him flinch. What? He turned back slowly. What had he done wrong now? He’d not said much. How could he have misbehaved?
“Did you stop one second and think about your actions? How can I keep the respect of my father when you’re fucking disobeying me? Are you trying to get killed or punished? You can just tell me if you need a beating. You don’t need to push it into the public eye!” Gerome’s face turned red, and he breathed heavily. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and his fangs slowly slid down.
Shit. Would Gerome hurt him or kill him? Could he make it out of the window if his mate turned violent? What would he do to him? Beat him or throw him in jail? A shiver of fear raced down his back. “I didn’t...” he stammered out, unsure of what to say.
“You fucking didn’t what?” Gerome yelled, taking a step toward Luis, who stumbled backward. Where was the door to the guestroom? If he could make it in there, he’d be safe. He could lock the door. Maybe he could set his plan to work and escape through the window. It was on the second floor, but maybe he could do it. He had to, even though he feared the height. Getting hurt while trying to escape didn’t sound tempting at all.
Gerome stopped, but his face still glowed, and his fangs peeked out through his lips.
Luis slowly lifted his hands. Maybe he could placate Gerome and then get to his room. “I apologize. I didn’t realize your mother was talking to me. I did not mean to be rude or disrespectful. I was simply lost in thought. I never wanted to be rude.”
“You do not get lost in thought when you’re dining with the king!” he roared, taking one step closer. Luis, panic rising, scrambled once more back.
“It’s more than rude! It looks like I have no control over you! Don’t you get it? If you are rude, my father will think I’m not capable of controlling you, which makes me seem weak. I can’t afford that! He’s the king, and I’m his heir. What do you think will happen if the king believes I can’t even control how my mate behaves? Have you stopped one second to think about that? No, I bet not. You’re too busy moping around and feeling sorry for yourself without thinking one minute about your actions!” Gerome’s chest heaved, but he stopped walking forward, though his fists remained clenched.
Damn, the guy was angry. Luis tried to steady his shaking hands while averting his gaze. Not looking at the man who yelled at him was difficult. He didn’t want to turn his back on his mate, but staring at him was probably even more dangerous. He didn’t want to antagonize the beast, who knew what would happen then. Finding out if Gerome would get violent wasn’t high on his agenda. He backed up, careful to take steady breaths and not let the pulse rushing in his ears overwhelm him. The fear racing through his veins threatened to paralyze him or force him to do something stupid, like run. He couldn’t run. Never run from a monster. It might pick up the chase.
Luis glanced up, but Gerome, his fangs retracted now, still stood in the same place.
Trying to collect all his courage, he took a deep breath. Getting thrown into jail or receiving a beating would stop his plans to flee, so he needed to apologize. “I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean to offend anyone, and it was not my intention to embarrass you in front of your father. I’m not hungry, I was lost in thoughts, and I tried to be unobtrusive. If I did it wrong, again, I’m sorry.” Now he sounded like he’d done everything wrong. He still wasn’t sure what exactly he did wrong and why Gerome was this angry. The words tasted sour on his lips, but he couldn’t change them. He sounded like a victim of domestic violence—apologizing when he was on the verge of getting hurt.
Luis glanced again at his mate. Had Gerome heard him? The vampire looked a tad calmer at least.
Luis slowly backed away the last few steps before slipping into his room. He slammed the door, and his fingers frantically searched for a key. He didn’t find one, so he leaned against the wood instead, his heart threatening to explode. Fuck. Why did this damn vampire not leave a key in the door? How could he have a quiet minute when he needed to watch his back all the time?
He wouldn’t be able to sleep, shower, or anything. And he didn’t trust Gerome to leave him alone. His mate had shown his true colors, and Luis would be nuts to trust the man.
Getting away would be the only salvation—hiding and living somewhere where no one would find him. This incident sealed the deal. Staying here would be his downfall. His end.