Page 14 of The Crimson Princess (The Ravengale Chronicles #1)

He doesn’t offer details, and despite my desire to know more of the vampire king, I decide it’s best to let this go.

Instead, I offer him a treat and we dig into a variety of pastries, and I’m pleased at how much he seems to enjoy the sweets.

I almost forget the reputation vampires hold as the biggest threat to gale in existence, even more so than the druids.

We just…get along. I share tales of me and my mom being taste-testers for Naomi, and he tells me all about a famous bakery in his kingdom with the best cherry chocolate cookies he’s ever tasted.

“Since I can’t visit,” I declare, “you cannot, and must not, return to Ravengale without cookies in hand. You understand that, right? It’s a necessary peace offering.”

He surprises me with a deep rumble of masculine laughter that defies the stories of his lethal ability to rip one’s throat out, but then, so does his love of cherry chocolate cookies. “In the name of peace, I will one day bring you cookies.”

I smile my approval and motion to his cup. “Do you like the cocoa?” I ask. “It’s my favorite thing Naomi serves here, even above the chocolate cookie.”

“I told them to pick a drink for me. It tastes like a vanilla coffee. ”

“Why in the world didn’t they give you the cocoa? That’s unacceptable. Did you at least try it when you were here with my mother?”

“I was on edge when I met your mother, convinced it was a trick set-up by your father. I’m afraid I didn’t try the cocoa then, either.”

“That has to be remedied.” I glance behind me, and spy the long line at the counter, quickly ruling out a quest for another cup of cocoa before returning my attention to Toren. “I suppose it would be highly inappropriate for me to let you taste mine?”

“Appropriate is highly overrated,” he assures me.

There’s heat between us, the air thicker than any air I’ve ever breathed. “Well, then,” I say. “I wouldn’t want to start a war.” I offer him my cup, and when he reaches for it, our fingers collide and my lips part in shock, a slight tremble in my belly.

I swear his power of seduction is magic. It has to be magic.

He sips from the cup, right where my mouth had been moments before, and I watch the thick muscle of his throat bob.

“It’s good,” he says. “Unique in a good way.” He sets the cocoa on the bar, his full attention on me, not the delicious drink.

“You’re beautiful, Satima, a practiced warrior and far more powerful than you realize. That’s a lethal combination.”

“Meaning what?” I prod cautiously, the compliment lost in some deeper meaning.

“I respect your magic. What you do with it determines if I’ll still respect it later.”

His tone is even, but there’s a sharpness to his mood I do not miss. “Is that a threat?”

“I told you, princess, you’ll know if I threaten you. We are not enemies. Let’s not change that.”

“Why are you saying this now? Why is it necessary to you?”

“Because one day, I have no doubt, we’ll be faced with a decision to either stand together or stand against each other. I’m telling you right now, no matter what your father tells you, I’m with you until you give me no other choice.”

“Do you plan to give me a reason to stand against you, Toren?”

“Of course not, but in the too near future my brother will force us to make choices we would not otherwise make.”

“I don’t see how your brother could turn us against each other.”

“Your father’s a calculating man who wants power above peace.”

There is no defensiveness to be found in me. He’s not wrong. “But he’s no fool,” I counter, “proven by the fact that he’s been in power for what some might call an eternity.”

“He had your mother by his side many of those years. You’re more powerful than she was.”

“And you know this, how?” I ask, but even as I say the words, I answer for him. “Power knows power.”

“Power knows power,” he repeats. “And you knew mine the minute I walked into the room, just as I knew yours.”

But my father doesn’t , I think. Maybe because he hasn’t even really tried?

But that makes no sense to me. He doesn’t have to try.

He’s King Killian. Unless…unless it’s only Toren who can sense such things in me, I think uneasily, a warning inside me screaming at how close I’m allowing myself to become with my father’s enemy.

“I should get back,” I say, justifying my sudden departure by adding, “One more day of the Tribute.” I scoot my stool back, and before I can slide off and to my feet, he’s standing, offering me his hand.

I hesitate, all too aware of what touching him does to me, the way it enviably heats my body inside and out.

And so is he. A mix of satisfaction and challenge radiates from the depths of those blue eyes and both the warrior and woman in me will not allow him to believe I’m afraid of his touch.

I press my palm to his, heat radiating up my arms and across my chest. He eases me to my feet, and far too close to him, the heat of his body next to mine.

Vampires are not the cold, dead creatures of human horror stories, proven by the fire in my belly and the spark in the air between us.

“Thank you for sharing your memories with me tonight,” he murmurs, still holding my hand, his words a testament to his understanding of what those sweet treats meant to me.

“Thank you for sharing what you knew of my mother. ”

“I’m sorry it’s not more.”

“Me too,” I rasp, my lashes lowering with the emptiness inside me my mother had once filled.

He releases my hand, and his finger slides under my chin, and he lifts my gaze to his. “You okay?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.”

“You will be. That’s an order.”

“You’re not my king.”

“Pretend I am.”

Heat pools in my belly at what sounds and feels oh so intimate. “Why would I do that?”

“Because what happens between us stays between us, princess . ” His thumb strokes my jawline, the tenderness and intimacy of his touch, stealing my breath, a trembling quake deep inside me, and then his hand falls away, and the moment, whatever that was, is gone.

“How are you getting back to the kingdom?” he asks softly and I swear there’s an affected quality to his voice but quickly dismiss the idea. He’s King Toren, master seducer. There’s nothing vulnerable about him.

“Car service,” I say. “You?”

“I’m on foot, and as much as I’d like to offer to share a car, I’m afraid word will get back to your father. I’ll walk you to where the drivers pick up riders.”

I’d like that , I think, but I don’t say that out loud.

I’m confused by Toren, by what is between us, and I wonder if his reference to being my king should bother me.

He pulls out my stool to offer me room to exit, and I scoop up my box while he grabs our cups.

I motion toward a set of steps that keeps us away from the main crowd, and we head that direction.

Toren tosses our trash, and I savor the normalcy of the act that allows me to pretend that we’re just that: normal, at least for a few beats.

But the truth is, the one thing we both know we have in common is that we have never been anything remotely resembling normal.

We step onto a stone path, the cool ocean air soothing the unexplainable heat of every moment I spend with Toren.

He should put me on edge, and perhaps it’s the credit of his world-renowned seductive powers at work on me, but my powers are not simple, nor are they without shelter.

We begin walking away from the shopping part of the village, and I dare to try to understand the vampire king. “The tales of your seductions are many, but I’d think you’d choose a queen to produce an heir.”

He laughs low and deep. “I see you share your mother’s directness. She asked me the same thing while visiting with your father.”

“And you said what?”

“Standing by my side is a dangerous proposition, and not one I would wish on anyone I would call my queen.”

We halt at our destination, with no cars in sight, a dangling streetlight attached to a thick chain illuminating our conversation. “What of an heir? You can’t let your brother become king.”

“He will never be king.” There’s steel in his tone, with just a hint of bitterness. The king is not without emotion, of this, I am now certain.

A car pulls up beside us, and in that moment, he steps closer to me, oh so close, my nostrils flaring with the earthy scent of him. “I’m here if you need me, princess.” There’s a rasp to his voice.

There’s a rasp of my body.

“I’m sure that would be perfectly unacceptable,” I whisper.

His hand settles on my waist, and his head lowers intimately toward me. “You’d be surprised what I will do for my friends.”

My hand covers his, as if I am somehow negating the absurdity of allowing such a thing by doing so, as if I somehow am in control. “Is that what we are?” I dare. “Friends?”

His mouth is close to mine, the heat of his warm breath teasing my lips. “Unless you want to call me king, princess.”

This jolts me, and my hand presses hard against his chest, pushing him back. “You are not my king.”

“I’m brutally aware of that fact.” He steps back, wide enough that my hand falls from his chest, the chill of the night icing my fingers instantly.

“Go back to your kingdom, princess.” With that, he turns and walks away, and I have the strangest need to call him back.

Instead, I climb inside the car, and I don’t look back at the vampire king, who so cleverly seduced me.

My mother was right. Toren is dangerous.