I started to laugh, the sound hysterical in my ears.
This wasn’t funny.
It wasn’t even amusing.
Yet I had tears in my eyes that I didn’t understand.
This was all so temporary.
The moment he grew tired of me, I’d become a meal. And wasn’t that hilarious? I’d survived all these years, learned so many things, just to become dinner.
Another laugh left my lips, but it sounded wrong. Broken. Soul-destroying.
“At least as a Vigil, I would have been worth something,” I whispered to myself, forgetting about Ryder.
Except he was still here, listening to every word I’d just said. How much of it was out loud? I couldn’t say. I almost didn’t care. He knew all of this anyway. It was his kind that demeaned mine, sentencing us to a fate of servitude.
“Yes, hunting other humans is a fantastic life for a mortal,” Ryder drawled, his tone grating against my nerves.
“Beats being hunted and preyed upon by monsters,” I replied, shocked by the words leaving my mouth. What had their bites done to me? All my inhibitions were gone, my mind exploding into the open without a filter.
I nearly attempted to apologize, but he was already replying.
“You think those Vigils never become a snack?” he asked, arching a brow. “Come now, Willow. I sense you’re more intelligent than that.”
That should have been a compliment, yet it didn’t sound like one.
“This entire society is driven by a need to please your superiors,” he continued. “Vampires and lycans choose what they want to do, whenever they want to do it. I could fuck you against the wall right now, and there isn’t a damn thing you could do about it. I could take you against the balcony outside, then snap your neck while I come, and vampires would salivate over your remains. It’s a cruel, unjust world, but it is what it is. Your species is weak. Mine is not. Therefore, you kneel. I don’t.”
I gaped at him, my senses starting to return beneath the cruelty of his words. He sat beside me on the bed, his dark eyes smoldering. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me for speaking out or angry about the world we resided in. Perhaps both.
How had this evening taken such a sharp turn? My bliss had melted into a puddle of confusion and pain, my future incomprehensible. I no longer knew what to expect, and that terrified me.
Ryder wanted me to trust him.
He promised not to share.
And yet, Damien had just drunk from my vein.
“Do you like this world?” Ryder asked me softly, his palm coming to rest on my cheek. He’d tucked me under the covers at some point. Why couldn’t I remember? Had I fallen into a state of unconsciousness after they fed? All I could remember was the pleasure, some hints of their conversation, and coming to in this bed.
Yet I still wasn’t quite right, the haze of my pleasure still smothering me in a mist of chaos.
“Willow,” Ryder said, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. “I asked if you like this world. Answer me.”
“No,” I admitted on a whisper. It was the wrong answer, yet an honest one. And if he wanted to punish me for it, I wouldn’t fight him.
“And how do you feel about me?”
I frowned, my eyes trying and failing to study his expression. What did he want me to say? The truth? A lie? Alas, my mind couldn’t create a tale. All I could utter was “I don’t know.”
His lips curled. “Then we’re getting somewhere.”
I didn’t understand. Did he want me to hate him or to worship him?
“I’m not like other royals, Willow,” he murmured, his gaze falling to my mouth. “You’ll understand that soon enough.” He leaned down to kiss me soundly, his touch an imprint on my very soul. “Sleep well, my Willow.”
Something about that statement unnerved me, but I couldn’t for the life of me determine why.
Instead, my eyes slid closed, drowning me in an ocean of thick ink, leaving me to rest on a cloud that was far too soft.
Mint tickled my senses.
Warmth enveloped me from behind.
Protection layered every inch of my body.
Some part of me realized it was Ryder, holding me while he lulled me into a state of comfort.
I swore I even heard him hum a melody, one that followed me into my dreams. But that couldn’t have been real. My life revolved around nightmares, not fantasy.
However, for tonight alone, I allowed it to be real. My future heartbreak over the false hope would be worth