It was hard to focus on dinner when my mind was so focused on Owen. Every nerve in my body sang, like iron filaments stretching toward the magnetic force of his smoldering gaze. Was the food good? Yeah. Probably. The meat was hot and juicy and I had to be careful not to embarrass myself by dribbling gourmet sauces on my dress. But it all tasted like ash to me.
My promise to act natural had seemed so easy at the time. How hard could it be to act like I didn’t know Owen, when we had only met so recently?
Turns out, really freaking hard.
Throughout the meal, I kept my head bowed and my eyes on my food without really seeing it. I kept shooting glances at the vampire prince from the corner of my eye. Every time I looked up, he was talking to someone else—forcing a conversation with a werewolf at the table, or giving a thin, polite smile to one of his parents. But as soon as I looked down, I knew he watched me. I could feel his eyes burning through my skin.
“Are you okay?” Brent asked, brow lowered over his eyes. He’d somehow ended up on my right even though I’d tried switching out his name placard with Sylvia’s. After what he’d pulled at the Test of Strength, I had nothing to say to him. But I knew Dad would be livid if I caused a scene here.
I swallowed and dabbed at my mouth with a cloth napkin, ready for this thing to be over. “I don’t think the food’s agreeing with me,” I said, stiff with the effort not to tell him to go to hell.
“It’s rich,” he agreed, and I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was disgusted at having to eat it.
Carter’s dad distracted him with a question, and I couldn’t help it, I glanced at Owen again.
A chill rolled through me when my eyes met his.
For an instant, there was nobody else in the dining room. There was no long table between us, no gothic candelabras, no politics or roasted pigs. It was just me and Owen, and the oxygen that was rapidly getting sucked out from between us. A smile touched the corner of his mouth. It was a real smile. A smile just for me.
And then the instant ended. The smile was replaced by something much more artificial, and he smoothly rejoined the conversation between Blaine and Sylvia. Something about territory markers.
All the low voices around me suddenly seemed to increase in pitch, like everyone was clamoring and shouting instead of politely murmuring. Owen had a way of putting my senses on edge. I wanted so badly to reach across the table for his hand. I settled for eating a bite of the roasted pork.
It was nowhere near as comforting.
Dinner ended, but courtesy apparently demanded drinks to follow. It was getting late, though nobody seemed to care. Surprise, surprise. Vampires were night people.
Brent kept following me around, so I didn’t get a chance to “accidentally” bump into Owen throughout the forced mingling in what Mr. Rossi referred to as the drawing room. For some reason, that made Regan snicker.
I’d been fake-smiling and small-talking with Sheridan and my dad for over an hour before I caught Owen’s gaze again. Our eyes met and he gave a slight jerk of his head toward the exit.
My pulse sped. I made excuses quickly, claiming exhaustion to my dad and Sheridan. She looked irritated but let me go. When I refused Brent as an escort, Dad didn’t even ask why. He reassigned Carter’s dad and tuned right back into Sheridan.
Carter’s dad followed me to my room, but instead of giving me the silent treatment like he’d always done before, he hovered, hands stuffed into his suit pockets.
“Is there something else, Mr. Benefield?” I asked uncertainly.
“You did a great job these past twenty-four hours, Charlotte,” he said, stunning me enough that I let the formal use of my name go. “First, that incident with the heart, and now being forced to dine with the vampires, you’ve shown a tremendous amount of restraint and courage.” His gaze softened a fraction. “Your mom would be proud.”
My eyes widened. “You knew my mom?”
“Of course,” he said, stuffing his hands deeper as if embarrassed. “She was a member of the pack until…”
“Right. Until,” I said.
His lips quirked up ruefully. “She was a good friend to me once,” he said. “Introduced me to my wife, actually.”
“Wow, that’s … I mean, no one here ever talks about her,” I said, at a loss.
Mr. Benefield cleared his throat. “The pack doesn’t do well with change. Thill’s a little steeped in tradition and it’s made us all a little slow to see when to outgrow an attitude or a rule. I’m sorry for how that might have made your life more difficult.”
I stared at him, unblinking, and decided to just go for it. This was the first—and maybe last—honest conversation I’d ever have with the man. “I thought you hated me for removing your family from the beta role,” I blurted.
Mr. Benefield’s surprise faded quickly, and I could see he wouldn’t deny it. “You being here isn’t an accident, Charlie. I know you think it’s all a mistake—that you were a mistake—but it’s not true. It’s my hope that you can change the future of things here. I don’t hate anything about that. In fact, between us, I’m rooting for it.” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “Even if it seems otherwise,” he added.
I pursed my lips, thoroughly confused. Everything about his behavior toward me until now suggested he despised me—or at least the knowledge that he was losing his beta role. But now … what did he mean he was rooting for me? For change?
Before I could ask, he turned on his heel and strode off. “Good night, Charlotte,” he called as he left.
“Good night,” I mumbled before slipping into my room and closing my door behind me.
I paced the room, distracted by Mr. Benefield’s strange admission, and began to wonder if I’d imagined Owen’s subtle message. Maybe he’d only been nodding at something his father had said or flipping his hair out of his eyes. Maybe he’d meant for me to meet him somewhere else, though I had no idea where else would afford privacy in this place. It seemed everywhere I went, there were bodies. Either vamps or servants or maids—always someone.
I sighed and listen to the fancy wall clock tick the seconds. It was framed in ornate brass, much like everything else in the giant room. The bedspread was full of rich reds and purples and browns that all blended with the fancy trim and plush carpeting. While I paced, I began to count the ticks until they drowned out my anxiety.
The knock at my door startled me out of my counting.
I opened it and exhaled in relief when I saw Owen. I peered left, then right, searching for Brent or anyone else loitering nearby. The hall was empty.
“Relax,” Owen breathed in my ear, slipping into the room behind me so fast I barely saw the movement. His breath on my ear shot goose bumps down my spine. I leaned on the door until it clicked shut.
Owen bent his head and pulled me into his arms, planting light kisses along my temple. “Owen…”
“I shouldn’t be here. Not like this…” He kissed across my forward, down my cheek. “But I couldn’t stay away.”
“I missed you, too.”
He pulled away, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t know if I believe you. Feels like I’m doing all the work here.” He tucked his fingers under my chin and lifted my lips to his. I rose on my toes and met him halfway, kissing him back hard enough to make him groan and pull away. “Okay, okay. I stand corrected. You’ve just done more than your share.”
I laughed. “You’re so hard to please.”
His smile came and went quickly. “Having you here, seeing you in my home … it pleases me very much. But it’s also difficult to pretend I don’t want to do this.” He pressed his lips against my hair. “Painful, even,” he whispered.
“Dinner was hard,” I agreed. “Do you guys eat like that every night?”
He hesitated. “Not every night, no.”
My stomach tightened at the way he said it. We’d never spoken specifically about his meal choices before. I hadn’t asked and he hadn’t volunteered the information. But now, coming face to face with it, I knew I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I thought again of the rental cabins, the very normal-looking human families that I’d seen inside them. “Owen? What do you eat?”
He blinked. “Blood, of course.”
“Of course,” I echoed. “What I meant is … How do you eat it, exactly?”
“Oh.” He stepped back, creating a space between us that left me chilled. He folded his arms over his chest as he leaned against the far wall next to the window. The curtains had been left parted and behind the glass, engulfing blackness pressed in. It matched the darkness in his eyes. I felt his defensiveness across the room. “We like our meals fresh, if that’s what you’re asking. But I told you the truth earlier, we don’t harm the humans.”
“I know what you said. I just wondered if …” My cheeks heated but I stepped closer and forced my expression open and forgiving. “I thought you might be saying those things for Regan’s benefit. You know, to keep the peace. If that’s really how it works here, you can tell me. I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”
Owen’s head tilted and he watched me thoughtfully. “You would forgive me if I told you I was a killer?” he asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words.
I nodded, pressing my lips together to hide the tightening in my belly at the thought. “You are who you are, Owen. I’m not going to ask you to change it. I just want to understand you. All of you,” I said.
Owen lifted a hand and ran gentle fingers over my hair, tracing the strands back to the tight knot. “You amaze me, kitten,” he murmured before pressing his lips to my cheek. “So unlike your family…” The words were whispered, so low I almost missed them. It unwound the ball of uncertainty inside me because I realized how true that was for both of us. No matter how unfeeling or detached his parents were, Owen was nothing like them.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” I said.
He smiled softly. “The wait staff and servants you see around you are all volunteers. No one is forced. And no one is killed. It is part of the terms of our treaty with them.” My brows rose. Owen smirked. “Don’t look so surprised. Yours is not the first peace treaty we’ve made.”
“I didn’t mean…” I trailed off at Owen’s silent challenge and my shoulders fell. “Okay, maybe I did.” I swallowed the next question, but Owen’s brow rose.
“You want to ask me if I’ve killed anyone, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“I’ve never killed a meal.”
“Werewolves?” I asked, forcing my voice light although it pained me to imagine it.
His mouth tightened. “Some,” he said quietly. His gaze drifted from me to the wall and I waited knowing there was more. “And some of my own kind. Years ago, there was an attempted coup against my father. Seven vampires attacked us during a family dinner. Two of them never reached the patio thanks to security. Another was staked by the human butler. That left four of them against my parents and me. Two of them went after my mother. It was more than she could handle. I did what I had to in order to protect the ones I love.”
The story was heavy in my mind even after he turned his gaze back to me. The picture it painted rattled me. Not because Owen and his family could’ve been killed, but because what he spoke of could happen again at any time.
What would his people think of seeing a werewolf at his side? As his bride?
For the first time, doubts crept in. I’d been so focused on Owen, on winning and securing my place beside him, I’d missed the effect that would have on my future, on our safety. A treaty was pointless when the enemy was in your midst.
“And you would kill again? If it came to that?” I asked.
His eyes were on mine, hard and cool. “I will always protect my family.”
I closed the distance and wrapped my arms around him, squeezing as tight as I could, knowing I couldn’t possibly squeeze hard enough to hurt him. “I want you to teach me how to kill vampires,” I whispered.
“What?” He yanked his head up in alarm, his eyes searching my face. “Why?”
“Your story,” I said. “Something like that is ten times more likely once you’re married to a werewolf. You can’t tell me all the vampires in this place are overjoyed at the thought of your bride being an outsider.”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
“They absolutely would and you know it. I need to be able to defend myself.”
“No, Charlie, it would be too dangerous. I’ll be there to protect you.”
“I’m assuming your father told you the same thing the day you were all attacked. You didn’t listen, either.”
He frowned. “That’s different.”
“You’re right. This is worse. I’ve already been threatened. We can pretty much count on this happening at some point.” Owen didn’t answer and I pushed on, hoping I wasn’t pushing too far. “Eventually, they’ll get tired of bloody animal hearts and go for mine instead.”
He scowled. “I’m serious, Charlie.”
“So am I.” I planted my feet and even stuck my chin out a little as I looked up at him. I felt completely immature for doing it, but I wanted this. I needed to feel safe. And if I was going to build a future with Owen, I needed to trust him completely. I needed to come clean. “A vampire has been following Regan and me around since I arrived in Paradise,” I said.
Owen’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“I don’t know his name,” I said, shaking my head. “But I’ve seen him several times, and Regan is convinced a vampire is responsible for her mother’s murder so…” I shrugged. “Regan wanted to use our time here to look for him, to investigate.”
He rubbed his face and when he faced me again, the mask had lifted. Pain and fear shone in his crimson eyes. “Charlie,” he began, bending low so that I could feel his breath on my cheek. I felt his hesitation and leaned in, nuzzling so that his palm stroked my cheek. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He sighed.
I waited, but he didn’t continue.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I whispered.
I waited and, finally, Owen dragged his gaze to mine, saying, “Before you, I felt nothing. I walked around detached from everyone and everything. You’ve met my parents. Vampires—we don’t like to feel things. It’s too intense, too much. So we shut it off. But you make me feel and that’s not easy. I … I can’t lose you. I won’t.”
His eyes flashed and for the first time, I saw what it really meant to be on the wrong side of Owen Rossi. Utter violence lay there just behind his compassion and love for me. And I knew that whoever tried to harm me would have to go through him first. I shuddered, but it was a strange sort of comfort knowing what he was capable of. For once, I wasn’t the biggest monster.
“We need to identify this vampire of yours,” he said. “I’ll try to arrange something that will allow for us to take a closer look at more of my people. Maybe you can spot him without drawing attention.”
“That would be great,” I said.
“In the meantime, we’re going to be more careful.” His eyes filled with regret. “No more big risks like this one. Charlie, if anyone found out we cared for each other … I can’t put you in danger that way.”
“I had a feeling you would say that.” I wound my arms around his waist and pressed my cheek against his chest. He felt cool through his dress shirt, but when his arms came around me, pulling me closer against him, my body warmed.
I caught sight of our reflection in the window pane. Hard and angled met soft and rounded. It was an impossible picture. I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Owen smiled down at me, leaning in until his nose brushed my cheek, then my ear. “One for the road,” he whispered and my lips curved as I turned into him.
When Owen’s mouth met mine, I sighed.