Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 122946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
I thought back, and I could faintly remember someone holding me.
His thumb caressed the side of my cheek. “Like elder vampires, we sleep as though we are dead. When fully asleep, you were the same—not moving or speaking. No heartbeat. It was maddening as I was not sure what was happening to you.” He placed his forehead on top of mine.
“This is what I mean,” I whispered as he was so close to me. “Every time I enter a new room, I find out something strange.”
“Worse could have been done than worrying me so,” he whispered back.
“Wait,” I pulled my head from his. “I thought I did something ‘criminal’ as you called it. I knew you were bluffing.”
“No.” He grinned. “You did jump me.”
“What?” I gasped. “No, I didn’t.”
“I carried you to bed. But before you fell so deeply asleep, you would not stop kissing my face. You even bit my neck.”
“I did not,” I repeated, and he pointed to a shirt that sat on the edge of the deep blue couch. The collar had blood on it.
I brought my hands to my mouth and stared back at him.
“I bit you?” I whispered and looked at his neck. There would be no scar but even still.
“When I placed you on the bed, you began to strip, tossing your clothes there.” He pointed to the left side of the bed where my bra hung on a lamp. “Melora picked out the nightdress for you, and you said, and I quote ‘Clothing is for mortals. I won’t wear it anymore; you shouldn’t either, Theseus. I like to feel your skin; sleep with me.’”
He was doing his best not to laugh as I just shook my head. Because this could not be real life. Shifting, I laid back down on the bed and closed my eyes.
“Going back to sleep again?”
“No. I’m going to wake up from whatever this is, and then we can have a normal conversation,” I said, lifting the sheets and closing my eyes. I kept them closed tight, hoping that when I did open them again that everything would be better.
However, apparently, Theseus wasn’t done. “Melora said that one-hundred-percent silk was almost as good as being naked, and you shot a spark of fire at her, growled, and told her to leave you alone.”
Oh my God.
“Ulrik, who was waiting outside the door, heard and nearly want into a rage. Luckily, Melora is the more sensible of the two and stopped him and me from fighting. He wanted to take a limb, and I, of course, wouldn’t have that. Conversely, you did not seem to care that I was seeking to protect your life as you tossed all of us out of my room with a flick of your wrist. You told us, and I quote again, ‘Shut the hell up, please. I’m trying to sleep.’ I had to wait until you were deeply asleep before dressing you—only because I feared you would panic when you woke.”
“Please. Please,” I whispered. The sheets were now over my head as I tried to hide from shame. “Please, Theseus, tell me that none of that is true, and you just have a twisted sense of humor.”
“Very well. It is not true,” he said from beside me, and when I moved the sheets to look at him, he smiled and nodded. “It is true.”
“Why? How?” I groaned. “That’s crazy. I sound insane. Why would I do any of that?”
“When you did not wake up after the first day, Hinrik, Arsiein, and Atarah went to meet a few witches across Ankeiros whom our family has understandings with. From what they have gathered, you were drunk.”
“Drunk?” I questioned in disbelief. “Like humans? But vampires don’t get drunk. And even if we did, I didn’t drink anything.”
“Magic drunk, Druella.”
“Magic drunk?” I repeated slowly. “What is that?”
“From what we have learned over the last two days, it is when a Wiccan uses so much powerful magic at one time that afterward, the effects leave them as if they were drunk. And you must have used a lot of magic in freeing that ghost. When he calmed down, Ulrik couldn’t stop talking about how your lights were better than the aurora borealis.”
“I’m glad he enjoyed the show,” I said with a hint of sarcasm. “I’m more worried about the magic drunk thing.”
“All the witches we have spoken to have heard of it, but none have experienced it themselves. It is not common, apparently.”
“Yes, because commonality runs from me like the plague,” I complained, putting my hands on my face. “Why am I like this?”
“If it makes you feel better, the first decades of a young vampire’s life are often the most chaotic and troublesome. You are not alone in this,” he stated, and when I looked up to him, he was looking down at me.