by Marian Tee
“I’m a Sonora, in case you’ve forgotten. I’ll never get kicked out.”
“And you stay out late every night—”
I let out a yawn. “What good would being a Caro do if I can’t stay out late? It’s not like I can party in the sun, can I?”
Luka’s voice hardened. “Well, I’m sorry to tell you this, Caylie, but all those things have to stop now.”
Shit.
That coldly commanding tone skittered over my spine, making me want to shiver. Why, why, why was everything about Luka Georgiades so much more of a turn-on now?
I raised a brow, murmuring, “Really?”
Luka’s expression became steely. “Yes.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, knowing it would push my breasts up. “And how do you propose to do that?”
For a fraction of a second, Luka’s legendary control wavered, his beautiful manners forgotten as his gaze strayed down.
Yes, yes, you cold-hearted bastard. Do you want to touch them, cup them, suck them?
I said blandly, “Well?”
When our gazes met once more, he was flushed, fists clenched, back ramrod straight—the very picture of a man in the verge of breaking.
Poor Luka.
Having one of the finest minds of our race was simply not enough to save him from what was the most common of man’s downfall—thinking with his dick instead of his brain.
“Well?”
Luka’s eyes narrowed—an indication that he didn’t like how I was talking to him. Even so, his voice was calm and matter of fact when he answered, “If I have to spend every second with you just to keep you on the right track then that is what I will do.”
Liar, you liar!
I took a deep breath, trying not to show how his words…hurt.
I wished it didn’t, but it did.
Luka, you promised.
I could remember how broken my voice sounded when I…
Luka, please, you promised.
I had begged him, and he had still left me.
Letting out an incredulous and slightly shaky laugh, I said disbelievingly, “Do you honestly think for one moment I’m going to buy that? Come on, Luka. You and I both know you don’t really have any interest in staying with me. Been there, done that, not going to believe you ever again, you know.”
Luka said nothing.
No excuses, no apologies—no anything, and it made me so furious I could feel my fangs wanting to break free. Why? Why didn’t he even feel the slightest bit guilty for abandoning me?
Unable to keep the bitterness from coating my voice, I snapped, “Why not stop with the pretense, Luka? You might want to do the right thing by getting me back on track but we both know that you can’t really stick it out in the end.”
Tears clogged my voice, tears that I never had any plans of shedding. They were just…there, as if they had always been in the brink of falling. “Just call it quits now! Just fucking leave me like you did before!”
But still his cruel icily beautiful face remained indifferent. “I don’t care about what you think.”
Don’t cry, Caylie. Don’t. I struggled to breathe, to keep the tears at bay.
“Right now, what matters is that I have been appointed as your rehabilitator and I always do my duty.” He checked his watch, a slim gold Piaget that most guys his age would have trouble carrying off with such panache. But he did so, better than most adults. And God, even as I hated him, even as I wanted to cry because of him, I still couldn’t help feeling turned on with just the way he so elegantly moved, the cuffs of his hand-made suit falling back as he checked the time.
“If you don’t mind,” he drawled ever so politely, “let us stop wasting my time and start with your studies now.”
I turned my back to him, needing a moment to escape the sight of him, the mere presence of him. Haltingly, I asked, “H-how long should I expect to…suffer your presence?”
“For as long as it takes.”
Then that could be forever, I thought dully. I needed my revenge like I needed blood to survive, but even as I hated him with all my heart I knew that I needed Luka, too. Today proved it. Luka back in my life as a foe was better than Luka out of it. The truth just made me want to cry harder.
I said lightly, mockingly, “Promises, promises.”
Luka answered easily, “But I do mean it. I will do whatever it takes to get you back to your normal self.”
Straightening, I turned around to gaze at him again, control restored, not one bit of my sadness and unease showing on my face. “Whatever. Let’s get on with it then.”
I climbed up to my bed—it was a literal climb since it was a huge four-poster bed, set on an even huger red-carpeted platform. After tucking my legs under me, I looked back to see him hard-faced again.
This time, I couldn’t even rejoice in his suffering.
His words still hurt.
You could have had my body, you fucking bastard. You could have had it every night and I would gladly give it to you but you threw me away.
I raised a brow. “Well?”
His gaze left my face, slowly lowering back to the swell of my breasts over my blouse. I saw his eyes turning crimson red and I gasped, unable to believe that he had revealed himself this much this early. My breasts immediately reacted to his gaze, nipples begging more of his attention, of his touch.
Then his gaze turned to the bed.
Oh. Shit, oh, oh shit.
Instantly, images crowded my mind—Luka in my bed, undressing me, sucking my nipples, his hands going down—
I clenched my teeth together to keep my fangs from slicing out, burying my nails into my palms as I angrily strove for focus, concentrating on the pain in order to similarly bury those almost-blasphemous images.
Arousal was a power game for us Caros. You lost if you gave in to lust first, and right now, I was pretty sure I was about to join the losing side. Unwilling to taste defeat this early, I straightened, squaring my shoulders, and tossed my hair over my shoulder, deliberately flaunting my breasts even more.
His gaze jerked up—just in time for Luka to see my own gaze dip low…until it reached his dick, which immediately and immensely swelled in response.
Shiit, shit, shit—was it just my imagination or was Luka’s dick the largest I had ever seen—or sort-of-seen?
Luka’s head abruptly turned to the side. “This isn’t a good place to study,” he gritted out.
I silently inhaled and exhaled, taking advantage of the few seconds he wasn’t looking at me to get my bearings back. Seducing him was part of the plan, but…not right now. Not just now—not just yet, not when things felt too intense.
“We have to find another place—”
“There is no other place and you know it.” Even though we had a big house, all the other rooms were usually occupied either by my parents or any of the countless associates they had over every day—and night—for business meetings.
Luka didn’t answer—and he didn’t move either, not until more than a few moments had passed and he finally took one of the high-backed chairs from my private lounge area in my bedroom, carrying it to the top of the platform.
My heart sort of squeezed at the sight. Sexual tension totally over, now replaced by the emotional kind—I missed catching glimpses of Luka’s old-fashioned courtesy. Other guys would have dragged that chair but Luka? No, that would have been impolite. He’d carry it instead—like he was now. And his sitting posture? Always beautifully perfect too—like now as well. Straight back, feet firmly on the floor, hands on his lap. He never ever turned the chair the opposite way to straddle it, the same way you’d never catch him wearing a cap, with the back in front.
Luka’s elegant fingers slipped into the leather handles of my pink tote bag. “I take it this is your school bag?”
I nodded.
“According to your most recent grades, your greatest problem is history.”
Actually—that was my favorite subject, but it was the easiest t
o flunk, hence the grade. “It’s just so boring.”
“Nevertheless, you need to study it.” Luka’s voice took on a serious note. “As a Caro, it is your responsibility to study your race’s history. We are not like humans, Caylie. We may have all the same trappings they do and we may walk on the same ground but make no mistake: our existence is still not free from the dangers that our forefathers had died defending us from.”
“History books can be easily burned." He tapped his head. "But what remains here cannot be erased. It is your duty to have the ability to pass on to future Caros about the past. Our generation has been sadly complacent about this but I will not tolerate the same from you." His eyes narrowed and his voice was like whiplash as he questioned me icily, "Do you understand now, Caylie?"
"Yes," I grumbled out, suitably chastened.
Luka took out my history book and skimmed the table of contents. "Which chapter are you currently taking up?"
I shrugged. "Don't know."
"Then we'll start from Chapter One—"
I was horrified. "Wait! I think I can call up someone to ask!"
Luka's face softened slightly with an achingly familiar smile. "My thoughts exactly."
And I realized I had just been tricked. "You jerk!" I cried out, throwing a pillow at him.
He caught the pillow handily with one hand and without looking up from my history book. "Pillow fights are not included in my hour."
"Pillow fights are not included in my hour," I mimicked and threw another.
He caught it again and placed the pillow on the foot of the bed, but this time he looked up. "I missed you, you know."
I froze.
No, he didn’t say that, he couldn’t have said that. Luka never said anything he didn’t mean so why would he say that?
When I still didn’t answer, he continued quietly, “I always did, and I always thought about you.”
I bit my lip hard. What was the point of all this? Had he forgotten what he had done?
“You might have thought I was completely gone, but I…wasn’t. I was always in the background—”
“Stop lying to me—”
Luka’s voice became thin and hard. “I was there on your eighteenth birthday, watching outside, seeing how you almost let another guy fucking taste you—”
“No.” The thought of Luka seeing me at my weakest was impossible to bear. I tried to scramble away, but Luka easily hauled me back and I landed on his lap like a spitting cat, trying to claw out of his arms.
“That was my fault,” Luka said quietly even as I didn’t stop struggling in his arms.
My control broke. “Damn you.”
“I’m already damned,” Luka whispered. “For almost three years—”
I covered his mouth, not wanting to hear it. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to hear it. He wasn’t supposed to apologize. I hadn’t risked everything to take vengeance on him just to let one measly ‘sorry’ wipe away all the pain I had suffered in the past years.
He had to pay.
I had to make him pay.
Because if I didn’t, I didn’t know what else was there to do in my life.
Luka pulled my hand away when I stared sightlessly at him, not daring to blink because I didn’t want to waste even another drop of my tears on him. Luka didn’t deserve any of my tears. I knew that now.
Pain threaded his voice as he said, “I’ve always wanted to apologize…what happened during your come-out ball—”
I pulled away from him, scrambling off his lap so I could sit at the foot of the bed, my back to him, legs dangling at the side. “We won’t ever talk about that,” I said thinly. We mustn’t. It still hurt and it always will.
Luka's eyes turned bleak. “So be it.”
Over the crazy drumming beat of my heart, I asked hoarsely, “Will you be back for good this time?” And would saying yes change my plans?
“No.”
Moot point, Caylie. When would I ever learn?
“But I’ll stay for as long as you need me. I promise.”
I didn’t stir at his answer, and I knew he didn’t expect me to. His answer tore me apart because it was something I had still wanted to hear, but it was also something I knew couldn’t be true.
Never wear your heart on your sleeve. It was yet another motto our race cherished, and those words ensured my shredded heart remained a secret inside me.
So be it as well, I thought numbly. This time it would be different. This time I wouldn’t be the one in tears when it was time for him to go.
Chapter Three
Caylie
30 Months Ago
The bullying started in not less than 24 hours. First there were the tweets, more obscene than grotesque. Then there were the posts on Facebook and everywhere else where other kids in school could know how Caylie had lost it at last night’s Brethren ball.
She was such a dog lover she liked her anal doggie style, like a true bitch in heat.
She acted high and mighty with Caros, but her secret fantasy was to have all her holes fucked by humans.
When Caylie escaped to the ladies’ room the next day in school, needing to take a breather from all the nasty stares and mocking words, someone had already beat her to it.
Where’s your little mongrel shit now?
Caylie pulled out several sheets of tissue from the dispenser, wet them, and wiped the mirror clean furiously. They were wrong. They were all wrong. Luka had a reason for doing what he did last night. He would come back. He would come back.
But he didn’t.
* * * *
Present Time
I was still in a daze when I got to school the next day. Last night had been everything I had hoped for and feared. Luka Georgiades had been even more quietly charming than I remembered him to be, patient and sweet in the most subtle ways. But he had also been different, smoldering in a way that he never did before, his gaze blazing barely-concealed desire that had me sucking my breath every so often.
I knew he wanted me. He always had since the time we first kissed, but now it seemed as if he wanted me not just because my body was his secret obsession. There was something else—something I couldn’t quite put my finger to.
Without planning to, I dug my phone out, scrolling down scores of messages that flooded my inbox just so I could read his text this morning.
Good morning, mi vavli. Heading to the Brethren now. Don’t be late for school.
It took everything not to have my fingers curl hard around my phone and crush it into pieces. I wasn’t as strong as most Caros but in the mood I was in, I had a feeling I could battle even one of the Morteia if I wanted to. Or at least I had a feeling I could, if I ever did meet one of the Morteia, an elite band of warrior nobles chosen by fate to train as our race’s deadliest weapons.
“Caylie!” Sabina and Ever were suddenly there, one on each side, pulling me forward while giving me expectant and anxious looks.
“What happened?” Ever demanded.
“Everything is according to plan,” I answered briefly.
“He’s in love with you already?” Sabina tried to make light of the situation, no doubt after seeing the strain in my eyes.
I shook my head. Luka’s piercing amethyst eyes flashed in my mind, and I remembered the way he had stared at me, his lean hard body unbelievably tense under his immaculate-looking suit, his gaze drawn to my breasts.
Memory still lingering in my mind—and a few other parts of my body that I didn’t want to react to the memory but did, I said slowly, “Let’s just say he can’t want anyone else as much as he wants me.”
My friends didn’t speak, and an awkward silence was born.
I stiffened. “What is it? Don’t hide it from me. Just—” I stopped speaking when Ever handed me her phone, its screen revealing the web page of a popular Caro tabloid you could only access with a secret password.
Luka Georgiades Seen Last Night with Youngest Sister of Heir Apparent Domenico Moretti!
A f
urious hiss of betrayal escaped me, just in time for Ms. Chambers, our literature professor, to catch sight of my fangs slipping out. “Caylie Sonora!” she snapped, coming to a dead stop in front of me.
Immediately, my fangs retracted but I was still trembling.
