Rebel Bitten (Blood Alliance Book 4)

by Lexi C. Foss

  They were all walking doormats.

  I stalked over to the fridge to activate the AI again. I didn’t even give it a chance to speak; I just said, “Call Silvano’s Penthouse. Now.”

  “Calling Silvano’s Penthouse.”

  A beat passed before Damien answered, “I see you figured out your AI.”

  “Get the fuck down here. Now.” I hit the Deactivate button, expecting it to hang up, but it didn’t. Gutting the damn AI and transporting my own equipment down here had just become my first priority for the week.

  “What’s happened?” Damien asked.

  “Just get down here and hang up the phone.”

  He didn’t comment, just did as I requested, and I immediately hit Deactivate before the AI could start speaking again.

  This time, Willow didn’t giggle. Her gaze was on the girl, and that perfume of jealousy had disappeared, replaced by acute concern.

  My jaw ticked.

  Comforting humans wasn’t in my repertoire. Minus Willow. She was… different.

  I met her gaze, then gestured with my chin toward the girl. “Help her.”

  Willow didn’t ask how or why; she just left.

  Frowning, I stepped out of the kitchen to find her disappearing into the bedroom. “What the hell are you doing?” I called after her.

  “Helping!” she yelled back.

  I couldn’t decide if she was being serious or clever, but when she returned with several towels, I had my answer. She stuck a few under the sink in the kitchen, dampening them, then went to the girl on the floor to begin washing her wounds.

  “Did Meghan whip you?” I asked, studying the markings along her creamy skin.

  “Yes, My Prince,” the girl said, her voice hoarse. “I promise not to—”

  “Stop with the vows. I’m not displeased with you.” Meghan, however, would need to take a few notes on pleading, because I was definitely going to slaughter her when I saw her again.

  The next several minutes passed in tense silence. Willow tended to the girl while I watched the sun rise over the city outside.

  My first night in Silvano City had me wishing it could be my last.

  Unfortunately, this was just the beginning.

  16

  Willow

  I washed the towels in the sink, watching numbly as the red water swirled around the drain.

  The vampires had whipped that poor girl.

  Fourteen marks, some deeper than the rest.

  She’d vibrated with fear the entire time I tended to her, refusing to say a word even when I spoke to her. It was as if the lights had gone out in her eyes, chased away by years of oppression.

  I understood that all too well. Without Rae and Silas, I never would have survived the university. They grounded me, befriended me, and kept me sane, even through our harshest hours.

  Until the breeding camp.

  I’d gone there alone, while they’d been sent to the Immortal Cup to fight for a chance at immortality. Had they won? Were they still there now?

  Part of me wanted to ask Ryder, to see if he knew. But he’d admitted to being a recluse and not well versed in recent events, so he probably didn’t know.

  Perhaps I could find out from someone else here?

  No. That would be dangerous. And if the female I’d just finished cleaning up was any indication, they wouldn’t be all that chatty, either.

  A light touch to my lower back had me jumping away from the sink, only to find Ryder beside me, observing me with those piercing dark eyes. The man moved on silent feet, reminding me of a stealthy animal seeking out his prey.

  “You’re distraught,” he said, studying my features. “Because of the girl?”

  “I…” I swallowed. “No. I’ve seen worse.” A memory of an assembly passed through my mind, a young male screaming for his life as the vampires lashed him from every angle before devouring his body.

  We’d all been forced to watch.

  Those who cried were punished.

  It was a lesson on stoicism and acceptance and served as a warning of our fate should we choose to disobey.

  I shivered at the gruesome imagery, then refocused on the towels. They were still pink, the white fabric forever tarnished by blood. When I reached for them to try again, Ryder captured my wrists beneath one palm and pulled me away.

  “Leave them,” he said softly, studying me once more. “Are you hungry?”

  I should have been starving, as I’d gone most of the night without food, but my stomach protested at the notion of eating. So I shook my head. “No.”

  He drew me toward him, then released my wrists to cup my face between his palms. “Damien will take care of her. She’s not going back to the kitchens.”

  I’d overheard that part of their conversation, as well as the subsequent discussion about Ryder’s penchant for saving humans.

  “You can’t save them all,” Damien had told him. “They’re cattle, Ryder.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with respecting our food. Yet everyone in this new world seems to take immense enjoyment in cruelty, as though we have some sort of statement to make. Our kind won the war. Wasn’t that enough?”

  Damien had replied in a different language after that, one I didn’t understand, but it sounded guttural and angry. It had made the girl with me shiver in fear, which had drawn his predatory gaze toward her. Then he’d sighed and muttered, “I’ll take care of it.”

  “He won’t harm her,” Ryder said now, bringing me back into the present. “Just like he didn’t harm you.”

  I stared at him—this vampire I didn’t understand—and had no idea what to say to him. He was trying to make me feel better, and I had no idea why. That didn’t happen in this world. Yet Ryder continued to defy every expectation, his words and actions making me see the man beneath his vampire veneer.

  And what I found there scared me.

  Because I liked that man.

  “Your pupils are dilating,” Ryder murmured, his gaze dancing across my features. “You’re no longer distraught, but I don’t know how to discern this look. What are you thinking, pet?”

  “That I’m glad I can confuse you as much as you confuse me,” I admitted out loud, giving him my current thought rather than the previous one.

  “I think we should skip right to dessert, then.” He stepped into me, causing me to back up against the counter behind me. He pressed his body to mine, his palms still cradling my face. “Have you ever had a sundae?”

  “Like the day of the week?” Or was it a euphemism for something?

  He chuckled. “No.” He closed the gap between our mouths to brush a soft kiss against my lips, one that was almost tender in its sweetness.

  I went to return the embrace, but he was already backing away toward the refrigerator.

  “I know you said you weren’t hungry, but a treat doesn’t count as real food. And I think you’ve earned a sundae after the long night we’ve just endured together.” He nodded toward the windows in the living area as if to highlight the early morning hour.

  The sun spilling over Silvano City reflected off the other buildings, creating an array of color unlike anything I’d ever seen. The university ran on a night schedule because our vampire professors preferred darker skies. I never knew why, nor had I ever been in a situation where I could ask.

  “You’re deep in thought again,” Ryder noted as he set two bowls on the counter adjacent to me. It was the one with stools on the dining room side.

  “I was thinking about the sun.” It sounded ridiculous out loud, but it was the truth.

  “What about it?” he asked before returning to the refrigerator to open the bottom drawer. Icy air escaped the compartment, causing me to shiver as it reached my exposed legs.

  “Vampires prefer night, so we rarely experienced the sun at the university,” I explained, taking a step to the side to avoid more of the chilly wave.

  Ryder closed the drawer after retrieving a carton, then he opened the doors above it to gr
ab a few other items.

  Once he had everything he needed laid out on the counter, he pointed at the stool side and told me, “Sit.”

  He certainly was a man of eloquent terms.

  I obeyed him anyway, curious as to what kind of “treat” he intended to make. The ingredients came from whatever the girl had brought up on the tray.

  Ryder had busied himself with storing the food in various places while waiting for Damien to arrive. It had struck me as a busy habit to avoid the wounded female. Another strange trait because most of his kind would have pounced on the injured human and finished her off.

  “It’s our senses,” he said suddenly.

  I frowned. “Senses?”

  “Yes.” He glanced up from his task of scooping white balls out of the container. “That’s why we don’t like the sun. It’s too bright for our eyes.”

  “Oh.” Why was he explaining this to me?

  “We’re bred for the night,” he added, returning to his task. “Lycans are bred for the day. Although, I think many of them keep night hours now to stay in tune with vampires. But it wasn’t always like that.”

  “You frequently speak as though this world is new,” I said slowly. “Is it because of how much it’s evolved in your existence?” He’d claimed to be close to five thousand years old. From what I knew of the world, we were only in year one hundred and seventeen.

  “Would you believe me if I told you there was a time when humans ruled over everything?”

  I scoffed at that. “That’d never happen.”

  “Not now, no. But for the majority of my very long life, mortals ran the world.” He left to drop the carton in the drawer again before continuing. “It all changed when humans spotted lycans for the first time. They wanted to use them for super soldiers in their mortal wars. As you can guess, that didn’t go over well. We were forced to put humans in their place as a result.”

  “As cattle,” I muttered, referring to Damien’s term. He wasn’t the first to use that sort of commentary in my presence.

  “It’s true that humans are food. But we wouldn’t exist without your kind, which is something my brethren continue to forget.” Ryder picked up a brown bottle and snorted at the label before uncapping it and squeezing a liquid-like substance out of it over the bowls.

  I wasn’t sure why he considered this a treat. It didn’t appear all that edible.

  When he finished, he sprayed another mound of white fluff on top, then sprinkled a colorful array of flakes across the creamy creation. He finished his masterpiece by adding a spoon to each bowl, then pushed one toward me. “Try it.”

  I studied the dessert, noting the way everything seemed to melt into each other. “What are the ingredients?” He’d ordered several things earlier, some I recognized, some I didn’t. This was definitely not green beans.

  “Try it and I’ll tell you.” He demonstrated by scooping his own bite and groaning as it hit his tongue. The sound, coupled with his expression of pleasure, had me clenching my thighs. It was oddly erotic, and extremely tempting. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll make you my personal treat.”

  I shivered at the sensuality in his tone. Because I believed him. And I wasn’t sure my body could handle more of his bites right now.

  He arched a brow at me. “Am I going to need to feed you, pet? Because I will, but it won’t be a sundae that I put in your mouth.” His dark eyes smoldered with intent, making his insinuation clear.

  A dark part of me wanted to take him up on that offer. What would he taste like? I wondered, my thighs tensing at the thought.

  This man had gotten under my skin with his eccentric behavior and addictive touch. He almost made me want to go to my knees and beg him for a taste, something I never thought I’d do around a superior being.

  “Are you craving me for dessert instead?” he asked, his lips curling dangerously. He slowly moved around the counter, his approach quiet and purposeful. Then he took the spoon from my dish and brought it to my lips. “Open.”

  My lips parted automatically, his command a warm caress to my senses. He studied my mouth, watching as the contents hit my tongue.

  I winced in response to the taste.

  Too sweet.

  It was like eating pure sugar.

  I gagged, but I managed to force the contents down my throat, which seemed to amuse him immensely.

  Ryder chuckled, the spoon just outside my mouth. “You took an entire course on deep-throating, and you gag on ice cream? I thought you said you passed?”

  The mention of my university experience had me wincing again.

  “My studies didn’t involve sugary substances,” I replied. “And I did pass. You can check my records.”

  “Oh, I intend to,” he drawled. “I’m particularly curious about your performance evaluations. I mean, how does one get graded on anal? Do they time you to see how fast you can make a man come? And is it a mortal? Because that seems like unfair preparation, if you ask me. Humans are easy. I excite you with a few nibbles. Hell, I don’t even need to touch your clit to make you shatter.”

  Heat crept up my spine to my nape, his proximity and commentary unraveling some hidden thread in my mind—one that coerced me into saying the first thing I could think of as a response. “We were graded on technique and accuracy.”

  “Were you?” he asked, setting the spoon down slowly beside my bowl. “Maybe I want to test you myself, see if you’re up for the challenge of handling what I have to give.”

  I met and held his gaze, a strange sort of boldness sweeping over me.

  Uncertainty swirled in his eyes—a look that said he thought I wouldn’t be able to meet his sexual needs.

  Perhaps he was right. Maybe he was too much for me. But if that happened, he’d push me to the side and find another pet. And I didn’t want that to happen.

  When he’d invited the other human into the suite, a part of my soul had fractured, unleashing some bizarre territorial instinct. I’d claimed him in that moment. It was an asinine reaction, one that would never last, but right now, I didn’t want to share him.

  This animalistic need to make him mine flourished inside me from an unknown entity, one that admired the beast inside him, noting his characteristics as an ideal mate. He was an enigmatic old vampire who never did what I expected, and I liked that.

  It could have been the months in captivity that curved my instincts in this direction. Maybe something had happened in that breeding camp that broke some fundamental part of my psyche. I might never know, as I still couldn’t remember much about my time there.

  And right now, I didn’t care to know.

  What concerned me in this moment was that look of hesitancy in Ryder’s gaze, the one that said he wasn’t sure I could meet his needs.

  I wanted to prove him wrong, to show him what I could do, to make him understand my training, and to demonstrate the skills I’d honed at the university.

  Which was what prompted me to slide off the stool into his personal space before going to my knees before him. “Test me, Ryder,” I said, inviting him to act. “Let me show you what I can do.”

  17

  Ryder

  Fuck.

  I’d only meant to tease her, but my humor died the moment she dropped to her knees.

  She was stunningly beautiful in this pose with her blue eyes radiating challenge and conviction—the perfect combination for a lethal allure.

  How could I say no to such perfection? Such intrigue? My stomach tightened in anticipation, my cock throbbing with the need to comply with her request.

  How long had it been since I experienced the pleasure of a woman’s mouth? I couldn’t really remember, my interest in such things having waned over the last century. But Willow had reawakened my need, her presence a provocation to a part of me I buried long ago.

  What was it about her that enamored me so completely? Was it just a result of spending too many years alone? Or maybe this connection was a result of a simple desire to feel huma
n touch again.

  I reached for her and ran my fingers through her silky hair, marveling at her wondrous courage in what I deemed a cruel world.

  If she wanted me to test her, I wouldn’t say no.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for me, pet?” I asked her as I drew my thumb along her jaw to her chin. “I’m not easy like your mortals at the university.”

  Blue fire burned in her irises, her inner flame blazing to life inside her. “I’m ready.”

  So confident and poised.

  Mmm. Yes, this would be fun.

  “All right. Follow me.” I walked backward toward the living area. When she started to stand, I tsked at her. “Oh, no, pet. I want you to crawl. Prove to me you want this.”

  Her pupils dilated in response, her resolve palpable.

  And then she began to move, her limbs carrying her across the floor with a fluid grace that reminded me of a wildcat. How appropriate, considering her notable ferocity. This woman had survived hell, but rather than lose herself to her scars, she allowed them to strengthen and embolden her. Her experience gave her life, and that was one hell of a turn-on.

  I settled into the room’s only chair, the couch adjacent to my left. My position allowed me to watch Willow’s every move, our eyes locked together in a dangerous dance of expectation. I could smell her arousal, the aroma a taunt in the air that intensified my interest. But it was her expression that truly held me captive.

  She boldly held my gaze, the defiant look a startling contrast to her submissive crawl, and it set my blood on fire for her.

  This female spoke to me on a level I didn’t quite understand, yet she hadn’t said a single word.

  When she reached my sprawled legs, she slid her palms up my calves to my thighs without asking for permission. Instead, she conveyed her intent with her eyes, taking rather than giving, and silently promising me that I would enjoy whatever she intended to do. It created an intoxicating environment of push and pull.

  Willow knew I possessed superior genetics, that I could snap her pretty little neck in a heartbeat. Yet in this moment, she demanded control. And so I temporarily allowed it, curious to see what she would do next.