Covet the Night, page 28
Laurel's brows hunched forward. "Tomorrow at five." William caught Gwen's eye; a winning grin stretched out across his face. "You may go now, Beast." Laurel waved a hand dismissively.
"Until tomorrow," he rumbled, accent rolling thick off his tongue as he snatched up Gwen's hand and placed a kiss atop her knuckles. Then he was gone, sifting through the crowd toward some unknown destination as her heart galloped.
Gwen's first inclination was to analyze every moment of the encounter. Her inebriated state was already magnifying the short meeting, but Laurel's cold hand upon her cheek brought her back to reality.
"Semper Paratus, Gwendolyn." Laurel spoke almost inaudibly as she inched closer to Gwen. Her thumb stroked the line of Gwen's jaw as she held her face carefully in the palm of her hand. Laurel glanced to make sure William was nowhere near them. Satisfied, she continued, "We have been presented with a unique opportunity, and based on your success at the Vranas’ a few nights ago, I'm confident I can entrust you with this mission."
Gwen swallowed visibly. "Of course you can," she said quietly.
Laurel smiled beatifically at her and steered her from the bustling crowd.
"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me, pet. William is quite the enigma at court—poor manners, high morals." She paused to roll her eyes. "But it's obvious you've caught his eye. Undoubtedly because you’re a vampyré virgin or some other trivial matter. We must use this to our advantage. Despite his general apathy for court politics, his opinions carry weight. The Vranas favor his household, and the Pulzin and Krovopuskov Households respect his no-nonsense fighting. If you were to pursue an attachment with him, we might happen upon some interesting opportunities for the sisterhood interests."
"I—"
Laurel stopped them and took both of Gwen's hands in hers. "I'll coach you along the entire way so you don't fall prey to the black widows—"
"What?" Gwen's face screwed up in bewilderment, but Laurel carried on.
"—and you'll rise quickly in the sisterhood." Laurel squeezed her hands in delight as Gwen tried to mirror her enthusiasm. "Are you truly up to the task, my pet?"
Gwen drew in a shaky breath and pasted on a smile. "Yes." At least, she hoped she was. "What do I have to do, exactly?"
Laurel's answering smile was like the sun.
XVI
J
ust as with the Vranas, Gwen's soon-to-be sisters dropped her off at the Gunwyn Household's suite, imparting tokens of wisdom before departing with a soft press of their lips against her cheek as they left her to her task.
"Play if you must, but remember—no biting."
"All men love the chase, so lead him on a merry one, Gwendolyn."
"Remember whose name you represent. Do us proud."
"Semper Paratus, Gwendolyn. Tonight, focus on discovering some of his strengths and weaknesses. These will be invaluable."
"Take each honeyed word out of his mouth with a grain of salt, my pet. He's using you as much as you're using him. As long as you don't forget the game you're both playing, you'll come out the victor."
They were gone by the time he'd opened the door.
"You look…." William's copper eyes dilated at the sight of her. If his heart were still beating, it would hammer a hole straight through his chest.
She wore a white slip dress with nothing underneath. William swallowed thickly. The peeks of her breasts strained against the silky fabric. His mouth watered as he took in her milky skin, aloof demeanor, and slightly narrowed eyes. His lips twitched upward, as did another part of his anatomy.
"You take my breath away," he rasped, stepping back to allow her entrance.
Gwen had never felt so exposed or vulnerable, but William's spellbound regard did just that. Her heart skipped a beat as she crossed the threshold. "What breath?" she teased with a coy look over her shoulder.
Her soon-to-be sisters coached her throughout the day on appropriate behavior and their best tips on charm, seduction, and the art of being unattainable. Unfortunately, her remark worked better than expected based on his smoldering look. The door shut with a loud bang behind them.
"This way." He reached her in a single stride, his hand coming to the small of her back to guide her down a hallway set off immediately to the right. Gwen was shocked at the deep teal painted on the walls and the massive portraits that lined the hall as an ode to the members of the household. She resisted the mounting pressure on her back as she studied them more closely.
"Who's that?" she asked, digging her heels into the plush, cream-colored runner.
"Adalwin Gunwyn," William said, stopping alongside her. Their arms brushed, and they both went still. Gwen held her breath as he leaned closer, pointing to the man in the portrait. "He was the Gunwyn Household's founder and friends with Maximilian Vrana, the founder of the Vrana Household. It was Max who vouched for Adalwin and helped to secure the household's seat in court. Not three weeks later, the Vranas were slaughtered, all except Jakob."
Gwen gasped, her gaze shooting straight to William. His eyes were already upon her.
"I didn't know that."
He smiled ruefully. "You would have learned eventually. Their rise to power caused something of a stir twenty years ago. The court still likes to blabber on about it."
Gwen nodded thoughtfully and turned her attention back to the portrait. "Yes, I've overheard their talking from time to time." She ran a shrewd eye over the Gunwyns’ founder, a curious smile tugging at her lips as she glanced down the line of portraits. "He wears his gray hair quite proudly. I was beginning to think no vampyré was turned over the age of fifty." William chuckled. "And who's this? He looks as if he could be Adalwin's son." Gwen pointed to the portrait next in line.
The gentleman, who was certainly older than the ambiguous twenty- to thirty-something range that populated the majority of the court, shared the same broad nose and bushy brows as the former. A mischievousness was captured in the lines around his eyes and mouth that spelled certain trouble and mayhem.
"It's his grandson, actually."
"Really?" Gwen looked between the two portraits again, cataloging each resemblance: the butted chin, rounded cheekbones, thick head of hair, and impressive beard. "His grandson?"
"Aye. He's our current head of household, Cynfor." Ken-vor. The Welsh name rolled off his Scottish tongue with ease, and Gwen caught herself staring at William's mouth. Unbidden attraction rose within her as an easy smile made its way to the hybrid's full lips.
She'd been worried about this… this attraction and how it might derail her from her ultimate goal and now her soon-to-be sisters’ grand plans. Nothing could be worse than to develop actual feelings for this man. Gwen knew he was toying with her; her sister line had confirmed it and told her to use it as motivation.
But she had never gone to war with her body or heart like this before, and despite her sisters’ eager coaching, she felt unprepared for this game of cat and mouse.
Gwen smoothed her dress and let out a long slow breath, calming her nerves. So, what if she was attracted to him? She was attracted to several men at court.
Except none had William's confidence, or his tenacity, or bullheaded persistence. And none had his copper eyes that burned like the sun when they fixated on her. But they were nice to look at.
William caught her staring. His tale came to a halt. "Have you listened to anything I've said the last minute?"
"Of course," Gwen replied, swiveling her gaze back to Cynfor. "You said the Gunwyn Household still passes on the gift of immortality to the eldest son of the remaining human family. Every other generation. Is that right?"
He hummed an acknowledgment, though his agreement was dubious at best. "Shall we continue on with our evening or stall a while longer?"
Gwen fought a flush and took the arm he offered. They covered the remaining distance to the hallway’s sole door in silence, Gwen with her eyes trained forward, William with his eyes trained on her.
"Oh."
The small exclamation made its way out of Gwen's mouth before she could stop it. Before the door hung the final portrait. It was William.
"You look… angry."
He opened the door, his smile taut. "I wasn't particularly pleased to sit for it."
"How did they get you to?"
William snorted as he led her inside. His hand went back to the base of her spine, guiding her to the middle of the room, where a simple round table sat with two chairs. "Threats, mostly."
"Ah, the preferred currency of the Dark Court," Gwen chimed, waiting patiently as he pulled out her seat before sinking into it.
His breath brushed against her ear as he bent down to scoot in her chair. "It's blackmail, actually."
Gwen bit her tongue and eyed him through the veil of her lashes. "I stand corrected from the man himself who used such tactics to ensure my seat here."
"Exactly."
The rumbled response was taken over by a deep chuckle filled with warmth and sin. Gwen shivered at the sound. Be attracted all you like, but don't lose sight of the endgame.
"What piece of leverage did you use against Laurel to get her approval for our dinner?"
William took the seat opposite her. "I'm afraid I've been sworn to secrecy now that the favor’s been cashed in."
"A favor? Is that what you like to call it?"
"You'll find that many do."
Gwen made a mental note, a small smile lingering on her lips as she let the quiet prevail. She gazed about the room, noting the deep teal and warm cream tones that carried through from the hall. She liked the leather buttoned-back chairs nestled by the fireplace. A brown-and-green tartan lap blanket hung on one's arm, and the spine of a book was tucked almost out of sight beneath the blanket's folds. The fireplace was empty, but a neat and well-stocked pile of wood waited at its side. She took in the assortment of paintings with pleasure, enjoying the variety of landscapes and animals untamed by man.
It was a quintessential bachelor pad, with a much different stroke of masculinity than the one found in Sebastian and Briar's study. Their sanctuary was designed for intense debate and study. Here, one could lounge and converse. It felt—dare Gwen say it—homey.
The weight of William's gaze prompted another blush. She tamped it as best she could and recited the tenets she'd been lectured on: charm, seduction, unattainable.
"Is this room part of your private suite?" Her voice was soft, her eyes anywhere but him.
"It is."
"It seems quite far from the heart of your household apartment."
"It is."
With a breathy laugh, she finally gave him her attention. "And why is that? Don't they like you?"
"Other way around," William corrected with a quirk of his lips. "At least, that's the way it was at first. No one was very keen to be around me back then, but some fellows, Finn and Owen, kept on me like my own shadow. They took the brunt of my anger in the first century, and then, somewhere along the way, they became my brothers.
"With the rest of them here"—William waved a hand—"there's mutual respect and camaraderie, but only Finn and Owen ever bothered to get to know my other nature. 'Sides, it's best that I'm off here away from them. I'm of a different nature at my core. Despite the camaraderie and familial affections, we'll always be divided to an extent. My bloodlust will never run as deep as theirs. Their loyalty will never run as deep as mine."
Gwen held his bold stare, captivated. "I had no idea."
"Not many do," he admitted as a knock sounded. He glanced at the door. "Come in."
Two men entered and immediately set to work. In symphony, they executed their dinner, filling glasses and setting plated dishes before them. Both Gwen and William muttered their thanks as the two gentlemen departed once their task was complete.
Gwen stared at the steaming pile of noodles topped with a chunky red sauce, then over to William's plate that held a row of thinly sliced steak that looked as if it’d only just kissed the surface of something searing hot. It was not the elaborate setup of the Vranas’ dinner, meant to impress and astound the palate, nor the indulgent spreads presented by the Roux, but she found the modest affair just as appealing. Especially since she hadn't enjoyed a carb intake of this size in weeks. Not that her stomach could handle it.
Her appetite was lackluster even now, but she expected as much being on night four of her tincture. For a moment, she allowed herself to fret over what ache and pain tomorrow might bring. More nosebleeds? Bruise-like rashes? She grimaced at the thought.
William cleared his throat as the silence stretched on, and Gwen made no move toward her food. If he wasn't mistaken, he saw her grimace at the fare, and anxiety riddled him.
"I miss real food," he blurted. She raised both eyebrows as she settled her napkin in her lap and politely ignored the way William tugged at his shirt collar. "It's all good and fine that the vampyrés here have figured out how to… elevate their diet, but it's not the same as hunkering down over a steaming bowl of stew with a thick-cut slab of bread for dunkin'. I miss it."
Her fingers stilled over her cutlery, eyebrows lowering until they hunched in a mixture of curiosity and bafflement. Before she had a chance to speak, he rambled on.
"I miss meat the most," he confessed while staring down at his plate. "This is fine, but it's nothing compared to my memories. I miss the heat. I miss being able to chew and savor some taste. Now I can barely stand the smell of cooked meat." William's face scrunched up. "It smells awful, like charred flesh. Even when it's covered up with some fancy sauce, the smell is there. You can't escape it." His expression morphed from mild disgruntlement to one of amusement solely from Gwen's befuddled face. "Which is why I gave you pasta with a meatless sauce."
Silence hung in the air until Gwen's laughter broke it. She covered her face partially with one hand as she tried to contain her mirth, shaking her head. Her stomach twisted pleasantly at the sparkle in his eyes.
"That is the most detailed explanation of a dinner choice I've ever heard. But thank you for choosing a meal that wouldn't offend your delicate sensibilities." She sipped languidly at her wine.
William smiled widely back, his hybrid canines on full display. "I'm pleased you understand."
Gwen bit back the rest of her laughter, feeling all pretense of being some coquettish femme fatale fade. She relaxed in her seat, marveling at the easy way they conversed. He'd shed the roughened persona he used in court in favor of something far more genuine and undeniably appealing. Or else he was an astounding liar and player.
Her heart fluttered nervously in response. Perhaps a more authentic approach would yield more results in her efforts with William than to be the temptress her soon-to-be sisters encouraged her to be?
They dug into their respective meals, Gwen setting down her cutlery with an unladylike groan after consuming a quarter of her pasta.
"You can't be done already."
She pointed to his dish with a jut of her chin. "You are."
"You've barely eaten," he insisted. "Do you not like it?"
"It tastes divine, but this is an American-sized portion," she said. "I've grown used to European-sized plating." When William stared at her blankly, she continued with a short laugh. "You could feed three of me with this meal."
He ran his eyes over her. "They don't feed you enough. You're as thin as a stick."
Color rushed to Gwen's cheeks, and not the flattering kind. Her weight was under the average for someone of her height and age, but that was the cancer's doing. "They feed me just fine." She tossed her napkin over the plate of food. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned back in her seat and returned his cool assessment. "Why are you stalking me?" she asked, the wine she'd consumed making her bold. Now this is authentic, she decided.
William smirked. "I thought it was obvious. I like you. I'm drawn to you by a force I can't deny."
"A force you can't deny?" Gwen sighed in exasperation. "First off, that's incredibly cheesy, and second, that's ridiculous."
"It's true."
She laughed, not unkindly but treading toward it the longer she gazed at him, her chest growing tight. "You know nothing about me. How can you like me? All this is just some strange attraction."
"So, you admit you're attracted to me?"
"I admit you're handsome."
"And you're attracted to me."
Gwen shifted in her seat. "Yes, I'm attracted to you, but don't get too excited. You aren't the only one I'm attracted to here."
William clamped his jaw shut and narrowed his gaze. The minx, he thought. She was all over the place tonight—first coy and sweet, then straight to defense. If she thought her words a deterrent, she was wrong. He'd wanted to bond with her over this dinner and show her another side of himself, but they kept slipping into the same pattern, nipping at each other’s words until one of them decided to take action—typically William.
Flouting the clear warning bells from his heated stare, Gwen lifted one shoulder in a lofty shrug. "The truth is this is just some passing fancy. You're drawn to me because you can't have me and because I'm a—" Laurel's words from the other night stuck to the roof of her mouth. She pried them loose with her tongue. "—vampyré virgin. There's nothing special about that."
A predatory gleam entered his eyes. Gwen's skin tightened in anticipation. She'd thought he'd have spoken some rough-sewn words of dissent, but instead, she found herself swept up into his chest with his arms wrapped securely around her back. Her chair clattered to the floor, and his head dipped low. His lips brushed over hers as he spoke.
"The truth is I can have you." His arms tightened a fraction around her, the impression of his strength unavoidable. "And I don't give a damn that you're a vampyré virgin and that you've never been bitten before. There's something between us that's undeniable. Every time I think of you, I feel it all the way through my bones." He dragged his gaze down to the plunging neckline of her dress, lingering over her concealed soulmark. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Every time I look into your eyes, I know you feel it too."
