A Violet Fire (Vampires in Avignon #1) - Kelsey Quick Page 0,52

and deeper beneath the surface. Zein, the youngest and most reputable of aristocratic warlords in all of Cain is apologizing to his human slave for taking her blood? I laugh through my haze.

“You’re not sorry,” I snort.

His expression contorts to something akin to annoyance, though I can’t tell if it’s from what I said or from his affliction. Who knows, I could be imagining it.

The trickling of my blood into his throat becomes strangely melodic, the room growing darker—quieter and louder all at the same time—and everything in my consciousness becomes jumbled. What is happening?

“Keep your eyes open.” The tendrils of Zein’s voice permeate the growing white noise as everything within my sight fades to black. “Wavorly?”

This must be what it feels like to die.

I let my head fall back over Zein’s arm and gladly welcome the consuming darkness.

✽✽✽

Soothing tingles along my back urge my return from the void. Dazed and lost, I blink, straining for focus. My eyelashes graze glossy, garnet fabric, of which—I somehow recall—belongs to Zein’s bed. Instantly, my mind snaps back to reality and I lift my head from the impressed section of the mattress.

“Don’t force yourself.” The faint nuances of Zein’s voice arrive from the other side of me. I jerk and flip over, my eyes flying over his lengthy figure. He has himself propped up against the black, spindly headboard, one leg completely outstretched while the other is bent, drawn up to his torso. His entire figure is illuminated by the enchanted blue lanterns above, and by the purple-black of the thick curtains that effectively block out the sun. He faces away from me, staring across the room into nothing—lost in thought.

My eyes fumble over his glistening, though misplaced hair, traveling downward and hesitating when they reach the V-shaped opening in his leathers. The sickly veins that had previously scattered his body seem to have vanished, along with any visible suffering.

Did I faint here? I think I did. Unless I died and am having a nightmare.

Either way, it’s weird. I need to go.

I try to shy away but Zein extends an arm and grabs my wrist.

“Wh-what?” I manage to find my voice through the roughness of my throat.

“You should wait,” he replies. “I doubt you yet have the strength to walk back to the seraglio.”

I take that as a challenge and move toward the end of the bed, every limb pure lead and shaking slightly. It doesn’t matter though, when you’re fueled by resentment. As if he can sense such things—

“I really am sorry,” he says, and I halt my mission—again stunned by those words leaving the mouth of selfish royalty. “I should have been more careful with you in your frail state. Admittedly, I am still learning what humans can handle.”

I shrug.

His mouth curves upward into a half-smile. “So now you choose silence?”

Keeping my anger in check is proving to be more and more difficult. “I’m still trying to stay conscious after being preyed upon, so give me a moment?”

He smirks. ”Fair. When you are strong enough to do so, you may go.”

“Thank you… my lord,” my vocal cords catch, and I cough a little. An awkward tension falls between us, but I can’t bring myself to be anything but curt and blunt. He deserves nothing more out of me. But, I should stay here, for now. At least until the room stops spinning every time I turn my head.

“Over there.” He motions with his gaze toward the bedside table where a glass of water and a plate of fruit sit. He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Retrieving the fine porcelain, I devour dried dates by the handful, careless of how sad I look.

While consuming the fruit, my mind finally retrieves the potential importance of this moment. Zein is being unusually receptive—much like how he was the time leading up to him dropping me at Nightingale years ago. This could be my chance at getting answers.

“Permission to speak?” I ask.

“Granted.”

“What were those vein-things that were—”

“None of your concern,” he intercedes.

Receptive, my ass.

”Well forgive me for offering what little concern I’ve got.” I’m painfully aware of how indignant I sound, but I don’t care. I plunge my hand for another date and pop it into my mouth.

Zein scoffs and it catches me off guard.

“All right. I was attacked and poisoned… while patrolling the border.”

“Of Abethos? A call to war?” I recall the conversation he and Gemini had back at the infirmary. An attack like that is a blatant request for battle. That could