making a bed on the floor.
Without saying a word to Willow, I left her in the kitchen while I went to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable—sleep pants. No shoes, socks, or shirt. Much better.
I found her sitting at the counter when I returned, her eyes going to my inked arm before trailing over the rest of me. She’d studied my tattoos during our sparring lessons, too, but never asked me about them.
“They’re tribal designs from my human years,” I told her now, feeling the need to share. They were nothing like the ones mortals had painted their bodies with in the last few centuries before the revolution. For one, I had no color, just black ink. And the symbols could only be read by the oldest of my kind.
Willow traced the art with her eyes as I stopped to stand beside her. “Did it hurt?”
“If it did, I don’t remember.” Mortal memories came and went, their histories so old I rarely ever thought of them.
Her blue irises flickered up to meet my gaze, a look of awe passing through her features. “We’re taught that royals are lethal, demanding superiors. Not kind, or compassionate. And they obey and adore the Goddess. You’re… not like them.”
I scoffed at that. “Sweetheart, none of us are like that. Your mind has been filled with bullshit meant to tame you and keep you in line.”
She said nothing, her gaze incredulous.
So I opted for a better explanation.
“Why do you think Vigils are humans?” I asked her.
“They’re the elite of the mortal class, meant to protect those they serve.”
“Why?” I pressed. “Why would I need a human to protect me?” I didn’t mean it as a rude inquiry, just a straight one. “I could rip your head off in less than a second. Hell, you saw what I did in that room tonight. So why would I require a human army?”
She frowned. “I… I don’t know.” At least she was honest.
“Their primary job is to keep other humans in line,” I informed her. “This world has trained you all to fight against yourselves, thus creating a perfect society of oppression. You’re all taught at a young age to compete against each other for a slim chance at immortality. There’s no unity or loyalty among humans now because that would be a threat to the society Lilith and her cronies created. It’s utter bullshit.”
I’d probably said too much, but who the fuck cared? I sure as hell didn’t. And what would Lilith do, come in here and demand I put down my pet for providing her with a kernel of truth? Fuck that. I answered to no one, and least of all that bitch who fancied herself superior to me.
“You’re not what I expected,” Willow finally said.
“Good. I like being different.” I winked at her, then took the stool beside her. “Maybe next time you’ll believe me when I say I have no intention of sharing you.”
“You shared me with Damien,” she pointed out.
“Did I? He only drank from you. I didn’t even allow him a kiss.” I arched a brow. “Is that the sharing you expected?”
She fell silent for a moment, her expression contemplative. “No. I expected… more.”
Because the university had taught her to bend over and take whatever her superiors required.
So boring.
What didn’t bore me, however, was the curious glint in her pretty eyes.
“Do you want more, Willow?” My voice had fallen to a lower octave, my hunger rising to the surface.
“More sharing?” she asked.
“More in general,” I corrected.
“With you?”
“Yes.” I held her gaze.
“Do I have a choice?” It came out a little saucy on her part, but I allowed it. Inch by inch, I would peel all the programming layers off of her until I found the gem lurking beneath the stone exterior. Because that was what it was—a harsh coating that society applied to all humans, making them boring and lackluster.
But somehow Willow had cracked just enough to let her light shine.
And I wanted to see more of it.
“I haven’t forced you to please me,” I murmured. “Instead, I’ve only offered you pleasure. Perhaps you didn’t have a choice in that, but we both know you enjoyed it.” I dared her with a look to deny it.
She didn’t.
“You confuse me,” she said instead.
“I confuse a lot of people.” It was a character trait of mine that I held in high regard. “Maybe you’ll figure me out someday.”
“I doubt it.”
My lips curled. “We’ll see.”
A comfortable silence fell between us, only to be