Page 47 of Come for Me
I turn a corridor, my eyes glued to the paintings and ornate trims adorning the walls, when I bump into a hard form and stagger with a familiar scent.
Sam stands before me, his shoulder leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest with his tongue in his cheek.
It takes me a second to realize why he’s looking at me like I’m enemy number one. Then I remember a certain purple nurple.
If he means to intimidate me, he’s got the wrong girl.
I narrow my eyes back at him, matching his body language by crossing my arms and leaning against the wall adjacent to the door Sam must’ve emerged from.
I tilt my head and smile at him.
Sam sizes me up, then chuckles when he sees Dax’s mark on me. He thinks I’ve submitted myself.
Charm seeps from the dimples on his cheeks. Sam strikes me as someone who would be hell-bent on getting your attention at the bar all night, and while blonde-pretty-boy isn’t your usual type, his persistence and the innuendos he slathers in his charismatic statements make your entire night. Immediately, you’ve handed over your power the moment you realize his attention is what’s made this night so great. You start thinking his personality makes up for his preppy-boy quality and take him home, only for him to rub your labia raw while trying to find the clitoris and never calls you again.
I’d bet money that’s the kind of beta he is,Mr. Playboy.
As if right on cue, like I have solved the puzzle, a woman appears behind door number one. She looks from me to Sam, taking note of the tension judging by her nervous smile.
The awkward silence is deafening.
The girl goes to leave, clearly not wanting to stand between us anymore. She thanks Sam for tonight and hopes to see him again. In Mr. Playboy fashion, Sam just nods with a quick lift of his chin, then returns to our stare-down.
I give him theWell, well, well... look who was rightstare.I think, and Iknowmy face reads “smug” all over. I scan him with my mark for punishment.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, sending a smile intent on casting judgment while also thinking about Taya and how I wish she were here. Mr. Playboy isexactlyher type. Tayalovesmaking players into puppies, and this dog could use obedience training.
“Dax says you’re to join for dinner. He guessed hisqueenwas likely famished. Now I see why.”
His eyes flicker with mischievousness.
This snarky motherfucker wants me to punch him.
He steps to the side, bending forward dramatically, motioning me to the boisterous noise at the end of the hallway.
I huff but make my way toward the two massive cedar doors propped open at the end of the hallway, with Sam snickering as he follows.
Laughter bursts from the dining hall as I near the doors. I sigh in relief when I inconspicuously slither into the crowded room.
Sam clears his throat, cutting off my reprieve, informing everyone of my entrance.
People at the large table turn in my direction, chairs screeching as they rise out of respect for my new rank. The roaring flames crackles in the hearth, sending shadows dancing over the faces before me.
I’m met with silence as they take me in, assessing the she-wolf “nobody” I bet they were laughing about moments before.At the end of the table are two empty velvet high-back chairs, the largest clearly meant for their king at the head of the table, while the other is placed to its right.
Olivia sits in the chair to the right side of where I assume I will be sitting—the high-back chair next to the throne meant for the queen.
She’s probably trying to claim her status as the king’s mistress. Her aura seethes with arrogance and royalty...I can’t stand her.
The male vampire I saw in the field earlier is seated next to Olivia, who stares at my chest before meeting my eyes.
I follow Sam’s lead.
“Alaina, this is Olivia and her trusted advisor, Ash, the King of Vampires,” Sam says.
“At least until I take over,” Olivia snickers.
Ash’s red eyes are dull compared to the sparkle in Olivia’s, and I get the sense he doesn’t really care much for his title.
