Warlord Wants Forever - Kresley Cole [39]
When he finally let her go with a kiss so he could dress and leave for Oblak, she said, “Okay. I’m down with being your dirty little secret out here—for now. But I can’t just sit in this room for hours when you leave.”
“What do you need, love?” he asked, piling her curls atop her head. He seemed fascinated by her hair, always touching it.
Wait, he’d called her love? Cool. “Do you know what an Xbox is? No? Well, your Bride has a teeny little addiction to it….”
She wrote down the model of the console and the games she wanted as he showered and dressed. Just before he traced, she took his hands and gazed up at him solemnly. “Bring this back and you might as well have slayed a dragon for me.”
As she waited, she painted her toenails—Valkyrie loved painting their nails since it was the only way they could semi-permanently alter their appearance—and reflected on how easily she’d settled in here.
In fact, there were only three things that prevented her from being truly comfortable in this situation. The first? Though they traveled most nights, he wouldn’t take her to meet his friends and family and wouldn’t let her see hers either. He’d explained that he wanted her undivided attention for these two weeks.
She suspected he was waiting until their relationship was cemented, which he believed would be in three days—the end of what she called the two-week vampire demo. Had it resulted in a sale? She knew it would mean pariah-hood in the Lore and having to give up her family. She could just imagine bringing Wroth to the coven. Her sisters would thank her for the surprise then pounce on him, swords and claws flying with glee.
As twin sister to Furie, Cara alone would fight him to the death simply for what he was. And though Wroth was incredibly powerful, Cara was quick, with thousands of years more experience and the boiling hatred of a separated twin. The two of them together would be like Godzilla versus Mothra, or some serious epic shite.
Her second concern was her worry for him. He often traced to Oblak, and each time she wondered if he would face some faction of the Lore intent on killing him just for being a vampire. She believed him when he told her of Kristoff’s agenda and saw no conflict of interest with her covens, so call her an awful person, but she’d turned informant, teaching him how to protect himself.
Her third beef was that each sunset when they woke he was unbearably surly and curt with her. She feared he’d seen memories of her flirting or even making love—though Nïx had once told her that recipients of visions never saw things they couldn’t recover from and usually only witnessed major, life-changing events. He’d assured her again and again that it was nothing, but Myst had suspicions. Yet she could tolerate his moods because he spent the rest of the night treating her like a queen.
Just when her toenails had dried, he returned with the slayed dragon and its attendant games and set them at her feet. He looked at her with his brows drawn like he’d missed her, and her heart did funky twisty things in her chest. The impulse came to jump him, so she did.
Only after he’d squeezed her up in his arms did she realize she’d run to get within them.
Chapter Ten
Wroth shot up in bed, feeling nauseated, physically ill from his nightmares.
He’d been lashed by the usual dreams of her gloating at a gravesite, then the Roman stroking himself as she slowly dragged her skirt up her thighs. “I’ll possess Myst the Coveted….”
But details of the memories became more evident each time. This time he’d heard Myst’s amused thoughts at his words—No one possesses me, but in their fantasies. I’ll kill you as easily as kiss you…. “And I’ll be yours, only yours,” she purred, though she detested him.
Now he’d seen something new. A different, more recent memory. Myst was smoothing on hose, her foot daintily placed on his bed, as she made a decision to…trick him? To act as though she’d capitulated easily in order to get her chain back.
Play at love and act at surrender.
He gripped his forehead in his hand. Irrationally, he waited