Page 35 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

She struggled, but he subdued her with his mind.

“Do not make me take away your free will. I’m giving you a choice. Take it, or I will choose for you.”

“I’ll fight you.”

“No, you won’t. Do not test me, Delilah. I have methods you couldn’t even conceive. One way or another, you will accept the life I’m trying to give you. No part of me will ever give up on us. Of that, you have my solemn vow.”

“I hate you.”

Her words cut deep, but he accepted it was the only truth she knew in that moment.

The tension vanished from her body and her fists softened. He loosened his grip. When it appeared she was ready to cooperate, he released her.

“Very good.” His scalp and face stung from her attack but there had been minimal damage. “I assume you’re hungry.”

Her gaze remained downcast and her mouth stayed shut. The echo of her last words still stabbed deep.

“Come.” He took her hand and led her back to the kitchen. “Have a seat.”

She abided his command and lowered into a chair, her motions robotic and her expression devoid of any emotion. It was as if he had placed her under compulsion, which he had not, specifically because he had no desire to pass time with her in such a comatose state. Earlier, he’d calmed her sympathetic nervous system so she would stop attacking him, but now she maintained the calm on her own.

He wanted to get to know her, understand her. But when she wasn’t fighting him with words or fists, she was beating him with silence. Presenting her a human comfort, he made her a sandwich and waited for her to eat, but she didn’t touch his offering.

Prepared to wait her out, he sat in the chair across from her, wondering who she was under all that anger and ferocity. Was she a fair hand in the kitchen? After nearly three hundred years of preparing his own meals, he welcomed the prospect of having a mate to cook for him.

He’d hoped to teach her the way of their traditions before introducing her to his mother, a revolutionary female who frequently disregarded the beliefs of the elders, but that outcome was appearing less likely with each passing hour. If he couldn’t convince Delilah to conform to their Amish ways, there would be no persuading her after she met Adriel.

His rebellious mother was a force of nature. She would be all too pleased to learn that his mate was equally, if not more, independent than she herself.

He wasn’t asking for subservience. He merely desired compromise. Delilah’s obedience was a temporary request, only until she understood their culture and laws. His governance was only meant to protect her. He had no lasting desire to control her.

Fearing his mother might encourage Delilah’s defiance, he worried he’d have to keep his mate confined longer than intended. He loved and respected his mother, but she had a habit of complicating matters with her progressive views.

Some would argue advancement was Adriel’s birthright, as the matriarch of the Schrock line. But The Order did not recognize female authority, so the position of elder became his responsibility the moment he came of age.

Nudging the plate forward, he once again prompted his mate to eat. “Food will help.”

How could he hold so much influence as an elder yet have no control over his mate? He’d occupied a seat on The Council for more than two and a half centuries. He could certainly manage one female. But he had his doubts about navigating two, so it was best he kept his mother and mate separated until he had matters more under control.

“Try to eat,” he suggested gently.

Her hunger beat at him. Providing actual food would be easier than forcing her to feed, but would not be enough to sustain her long term.

He was coming to recognize all the ways they were connected. The familiarity of her needs mingling with his own came so naturally, he struggled to recall how his mind had worked before the calling, when her needs were absent from his thinking. His every instinct pushed him to provide her every comfort and desire.

Come to think of it, now that he’d experienced the chemistry between mates firsthand, he wasn’t clear how his parents had parted. Mated immortals shared an unbreakable link.

Glancing at Delilah’s untouched plate, he asked, “Do you not care for the sandwich?”

She pushed the plate away, her tearful eyes looking up at him. “I don’t eat meat.”

Ah, yes, she believed she was a vegetarian. He’d forgotten, mostly because it was as absurd to consider an immortal herbivore as it was to imagine a vegetarian lion. Immortals were on top of the food chain. Of course, they ate meat.

For Delilah’s sake, at least The Order observed specific moral laws when it came to how and when they fed. Not all immortals adhered to societal rules, let alone a society as stringent as the Amish.