Page 33 of Even Vampires Bleed (Even Ever After #2)

Léandre

I t took me to be plastered against a wall by a bat to realize why Cassiopé seemed so familiar.

I’ve spent nearly a week in close quarters with her, but it didn’t hit me at any point.

Maybe because she did everything in her power to stay as far away as she could from me, hiding behind the bulk of the bear-shifter.

But when I came to save her, there was no one to hide behind anymore and the smell of the butterfly-shifter might have mingled with hers, but she couldn’t hide it anymore.

Passion fruits and cinnamon.

The smell from my pillows is hers

The one that has slowly been driving me mad for over two weeks now is Cassiopé.

And I’m only now making the connection.

No wonder she hates me.

She was the last person I slept with in my other life.

And I don’t remember it.

To be honest, I could have slept with the whole world in my first life, and I wouldn’t know, so it’s not against her, but it’s got to sting.

Because that gives me more perspectives. It also reminds me—and explains why at the same time—that she was getting out of my bathroom when I saw her for the first time.

Well, it sounds like she might have liked who I was, but isn’t so fond of the new me though.

I catch her eyes wandering.

She doesn’t seem to mind what I did with my body, though.

I don’t look at her, but slowly I flex my muscles for her to appreciate some more.

Cocky?

Yes, totally. But I worked for those, so it feels good to see they don’t go unappreciated.

I almost laugh at my own joke but stop myself from looking like an ass, because surely that’s what I’m going to look like if she realizes I’ve been flexing for her since she started looking at me.

Instead, I look around.

It’s quiet.

This is too quiet.

I open the door and let myself in without closing it after me.

When I see that Cassiopé isn’t following and is instead looking for the butterfly that followed her here, I remind myself that I didn’t leave the lizard inside the dungeons with my clothes.

I did drop him with the wings inside the room where the doctor was operating my father.

It was still sleeping at the time, and seeing the small shifter flying around Cassiopé’s face, I’m wondering what mayhem the lizard might have caused while I was absent.

I also take the time to look at Cassiopé from my hiding point inside the church.

“Even after getting your brain all rewired, you still make poor choices,” Pierre says as he comes next to me and looks at what I’m spying from here.

What the hell does he mean?

“Don’t talk about her like that!” I bite back and I don’t even recognize the snarl in my voice.

I had little interactions with Pierre so far, but I’ve never really liked him.

The way he talks about Cassiopé consolidates my dislike about the man and makes me want to bash his head in.

I don’t know where it comes from though, because none of the interactions I had with Cassiopé so far warrant that I protect her from any other man.

“Why? It’s just my point of view, after all. I never said why you were making poor choices. Just that you kept making those. She’s not worth it, believe me,” he says before tapping on my shoulder in a patronizing way.

I shrug his hand away, but before I can answer anything, he speaks again.

“I better warn Elhyor and his team that no one needs saving in the end. It would look bad if he attacked Versailles again without a valid excuse this time.”

He turns his back to me and walks away, leaving me with an unsettled feeling in my guts.

And questions.

Do Cassiopé and Pierre have a common past?

Why does he seem to hate her now more than she hates me?

And above all, why did he take the time to come and taunt me before calling back Elhyor’s rescue team?

That last one doesn’t make much more sense.

I’ll have to talk about it with Elhyor or Angélique.

The topic of my last question, I mean.

They don’t need to know that Pierre came to talk shit about Cassiopé or that despite his nasty words, my cock was still half hard just looking at her lush curves under the sun as she smiled at a shifter that wasn’t even me.

Damn butterfly.

I really hope this shifter isn’t a dude because I’d hate to break his wings just because he got to look at her naked so freely.

Am I going mad?

Maybe a bit. I’ll blame it on the fading smell on my pillows, though.