Page 13 of Guardians for the Vamp
Now?
Thorne’s touch is doing the exact same thing to my body: scorching my veins and awakening my sexual urges. How can someone I’ve only known for less than an hour cause such a reaction within me?
What if he’s my mate?
I shake my head. In the nearly 700 years I’ve been undead; I’ve never heard of a vampire and a gargoyle being fated mates. Sure, vampires and gargoyles have hooked up—Millie and Locheran dated for a few months—but never have our souls been bound.
And then there’s Vara...
Before my brain can even try to comprehend a second mate, Cyrus is done speaking, and I’m being whisked away into the crowd. I shake far too many hands—except for the fae, you never shake a fae’s hand—and my face hurts from smiling at so many powerful supernaturals.
I’ve met them all many times before, including at my coronation. Even before I was crowned, they all knew me as Millie’s royal advisor. Now it’s different. Now I’m their equal.
Thorne hasn’t left my side all night, but he’s kept enough distance that we haven’t touched again.
I desperately want him to touch me again.
My eyes also kept wandering over the crowd, searching for Vara. It’s as if she sensed me seeking her out, locking eyes with me each time—the gold in them seemingly glowing.
The music changes to a slow song:Wonderful Tonightby Eric Clapton. The DJ has been playing a unique mix of music tonight, switching from songs of the 20thand 21stcenturies to ones from hundreds of years ago. That’s the thing about being immortal. We’ve experienced so much in our lifetime, from the changes in arts and culture to advancements in technology. We have to adapt so as not to out ourselves as supernaturals, even if that means learning lyrics to every Taylor Swift song but preferring to dance across a ballroom to Wolfgang Mozart’s masterpieces.
With no one to dance with, I make my way off the dance floor—I still need to track down Xander to meet his new mate—but a clawed hand stops me.
Vara.
My breath hitches as her palm wraps around my forearm. It’s warm and silken and my body threatens to melt beside her.
“Can I have this dance?”
I want to say no. I’m not much of a dancer. Well, no, that’s a lie. I do well with choreographed dances or shakingmy ass in the middle of my living room to whatever popular song comes on the radio.
It’sslowdancing that I’m not a fan of. Mostly because of how intimate it is. How vulnerable I feel in another’s arms. Yet I’m eager to give Vara my hand.
She wraps her arm around me, tugging me against her strong body. Because she’s so tall, my eyes fall in line with her plentiful breasts. Her hard nipples poke through the silken fabric of her dress.
It’s near intoxicating having her this close, her front flush with mine and holding my hand as we sway to the soothing notes of the song. I inhale deeply, Vara’s cherry blossom scent entrancing me. My fangs drop and the sphinx smirks, knowing exactly the effect she has on me.
Why did I run from her for so long?
I don’t want to run anymore. Besides, why can’t I have a little fun? I’m the new vampire queen of New York City after all. If I were a man, no one would bat an eye about fucking around.
I place my palm on her back, just under where her wings are attached, and spread out my fingers. The move causes her tail to whip around behind her.
“Have I told you that you look magnificent tonight?” Vara asks. My stomach tightens with desire at the sound of her sultry voice.
“You haven’t, but thank you.”
“I take it you were told about my position?”
I wince, regretting how dismissive I was toward her when she crashed the meeting.
“Cyrus informed me shortly before going on stage.” I sigh and swallow hard. “I’m sorry, Vara. I had no reason to be rude.”
Vara’s palm skates up and down my spine, and I shudder, stifling a whimper.
“One thing a queen should never be is sorry.”
“Even queens make mistakes,” I counter. “A good queen is one who can admit as such.”
