Page 41 of Seared Fates

“I’m going home,” I tell him, attempting to sound light, but he makes me feel anything but.

His fingers twitch, gaze darkening as his long, muscular legs move towards me.

He doesn’t stroll like Lucero or glide like Ramy. Vidar walks with wide, purposeful strides. Each step claiming ground with the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he wants. He told me he’s a conqueror, and as his rugged frame commands the space above me, the gleam in his all-consuming grey eyes tells me Vidar’s found exactly what he wants.

It’s a head trip.

I hate how much I love it.

“Little prince making demands again?” His voice finds its way into my body, sinking into my bones, and making a home there.

I cock my head to the side, undeterred. “I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“You’ll stay here.” He talks like a man who doesn’t hear ‘no’ often.

“The only way I’m staying here is if you tie me up,” I tell him.

“Don’t tempt me,” he says, voice dropping.

My lips curve up into a grin, looking at him between my lashes. “I thought that’s what I did?”

Vidar takes me by the chin, our gazes burning into each other. The weight of his hand demands I give him every ounce of my attention.

“Stay here, Kai. Stay close.” The words ‘to me’ are left unsaid, but the heat of each letter burns so hot that if I don’t pull away, I’ll combust.

“I miss my home.” I lie. I have to keep some distance between us, ever since our hug in the kitchen, Vidar has taken every opportunity to touch me, and if I don’t pull back, I’ll end up falling so hard I’ll never get back up.

Vidar isn’t happy. Neither is Golden or anyone else.

But in the end, no one can stop me.

So when I get in my Mini Cooper and drive away into the night, a new number in my phone and Vidar’s hard stare in my rearview mirror, for once I don’t have to fight the urge to touch my braids—but to stay away from the ancient vampire who’ll never love me back.

Chapter seventeen

Kai

Once I’m home and confirm that the creepy spellbook is still in the freezer, I go through my normal nighttime routine.

I hang up my leather jacket, throw away the shrimp I forgot to cook, message Thomas to take his meds, and remind Golden to drink blood. Then update the family chat, while checking emails, and run the hoover around.

When my chores are done—tomorrow's to-do list updated, everything put away or folded or cleaned—my small flatsuddenly becomes too wide, like it could be measured in miles rather than meters.

But with nothing else to fuss over, the thought I’ve been trying to hold down bobs to the surface whether I want it to or not.

I wanna go back to Vampire Manor.

I want Vidar’s strong tattooed arms around me. Why shouldn’t I take advantage? I’m sure soon enough the big vampire will get used to the soulmate thing, or whatever fuckery this whole Fate business is, and he’ll stop caring.

But maybe I’ve still got some pride, or maybe I just wanna torture myself, because instead of crawling back to Vampire Manor to be a slut for Vidar’s unwavering attention, I rip off my clothes and pad naked into the bathroom.

Light bathes the room as I flick the switch and twist the shower handle, sending a steady stream rushing from the head. I’m surprised when steam quickly fills the space, and not wanting to waste my good luck, I jump inside and sigh as pleasantly warm water chases the long day down the drain.

I stretch my arms overhead on a deep inhale, water cascading over my shining brown skin. My head drops back onto my shoulders, and I’m careful not to get my braids wet as I think of the many long conversations I had today.

Vidar is now my friend. My sixth best friend, apparently. I scoff aloud, and the bathroom walls catch it to repeat it back. I don’t wanna be Vidar’s fucking friend.

I want those big, calloused hands of his to touch every inch of my body. To look at me with that molten silver gaze, like I’m his everything. It’s stupid and fucked up, but damn—my blood burned fever-hot when Vidar growled at Rurik for just looking my way.