THEA
It might have been a kiss. His lips were soft on my skin. My eyes shuttered at the contact, and I drew a ragged breath, waiting for the pain. It came with a stinging swiftness that sent my hands clawing for the armrests I’d just released. I gripped them tightly as the sting melted into something else. A prickle of fire and ice–my nerves fired so rapidly that I couldn’t process what I felt until it began to spread. The clash of heat and cold built between my thighs and spread to my core. I felt it all–the pressure of Julian’s mouth on my flesh, the blood spilling against his teeth, the venom filtering through my bloodstream.
Somewhere my brain protested this development. Julian had bitten me.
Not just bitten. He was feeding.
I should stop it, but I didn’t want it to end.
I wanted him to take more. I wanted him to take all of me.
A new sensation blossomed in my chest. It felt both familiar and different. My heart swelled, as though it would crack open and spill out, like my blood on Julian’s tongue. This new feeling commingled with pleasure, building a crescendo inside me.
The aria hit its final, dramatic climax, the audience burst into applause, and I shattered.
They were calling for an encore by the time I dared to open my eyes. When I did, the world was different. New.
It wasn’t the first time Julian had pleasured me with venom in my system. But then he had used his hands and mouth to coax out my climax. All he had done was bite me this time.
Later there would be consequences. But as he lifted his head, I found his eyes black as obsidian and his lips stained red. A second passed as we stared at each other. We’d crossed a line, and I knew now there was no way either of us could go back.
And then Julian casually got up, wiping his mouth, and took his seat. I waited for a moment, trying to figure out what had just happened. As the applause died down, the opera resumed, and I dared a glance at him. His eyes remained black, and his hands gripped the wooden armrest as mine had moments ago.
“Julian,” I whispered, reaching for his hand as my heart began to race. This time from panic.
“Leave,” he muttered.
“What?” The theatre was still relatively quiet as the next scene began, and a few heads turned our direction at the outburst.
“You need to clean that up,” he said in a low voice. “Go to the bathroom until the bleeding stops.”
I stared at him. The love I’d felt a moment before seeped away as I stared at the stranger next to me. “Are you–”
“Get out of this box before I kill you,” he said in a furious whisper, his eyes never leaving the stage.
I stumbled to my feet and fled from the box. The restroom was nearby, and I dashed inside it. After checking to ensure I was alone, I locked the main door and collapsed against it. Tears came as hard and fast as the final orgasm Julian had delivered only moments ago. No matter how hard I tried, I kept seeing his face and the look of unfiltered hatred on it. It was how he’d looked at me the first time I saw him in San Francisco.
I realized he wanted to kill me then, too. Not in a murderous, psychopathic way. It was more complicated than that. Julian wanted to drain me.
He warned me never to offer him my blood. Now I understood why.
An hour ago, I would have trusted him with my life. Did I still?
And what had I expected?
I wiped away my tears, staining my gloves with mascara. I couldn’t sit in here crying all night. I stood and moved to a long mirror meant for ladies to check their gowns or stockings. Instead, I lifted my skirt. Clutching it to my chest, I examined myself and found I was still bleeding from the wound. I cursed under my breath and went to the sinks. Wetting a hand towel, I cleaned the spot, discovering two perfectly round puncture wounds. I held the towel over them, waiting for the bleeding to stop. After a few minutes, I checked to find it had. Carefully, I made sure there wasn’t a drop of blood anywhere before dropping the hand towel in the trash. If Julian couldn’t control himself, could others?
I couldn’t stay in here forever, though, and by now, Julian would have control of himself. I unlocked the door and stepped out, determined to march back to box three and demand we leave. We needed to talk before he succumbed to his self-loathing. Because, despite the roller coaster of emotions he’d just put me through, I finally had my answer.
He was my mate.
I still didn’t really know what that meant. It was just a feeling. It was something in my gut that told me this was it. He was it.
Honestly, I wasn’t entirely happy about it. Mainly because being bound to a stubborn, grumpy vampire wasn’t something I’d planned on. Not that I could have planned it if I had wanted to. I made my way slowly into the corridor leading back to my seat, trying to decide which questions to ask him first. I only made it halfway before doors began to open along the corridor. Guests spilled out around me, moving to the restrooms or to the bar for a drink during intermission.
I fought my way through the crowd, trying not to accidentally touch anyone. I realized I left my stained gloves behind in the bathroom trash. Maneuvering around a group, I walked straight into Sabine.
She cast a disapproving look at me as a massive male vampire joined her.
“Thea, what are you doing here without a chaperone?” she demanded.
“I don’t need a chaperone,” I said, rolling my eyes. I didn’t have the patience to deal with her. Not now.
“This is her?” Her companion looked me over. “She’s shorter than I imagined.”
“Now is not the time, darling,” she hissed at him.
But he smiled broadly at me. “You must be Julian’s girlfriend.”
Sabine actually winced at the word.
“I’m Dominic Rousseaux, Julian’s father,” he explained, ignoring his wife.
“Oh. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, mustering up the politeness Julian had warned me against. Why did this have to happen now?
“Where is my son?” he asked.
“Hopefully, he’s not out picking up more strays.” Sabine sniffed. Then, she went still. Her nostrils flared, and she turned on me. Her gloved fingers caught my wrist, clenching it so tightly I thought she might break bones. “What have you done?”
