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I gasp and shove at his shoulder, and he rolls over with a laugh, not stopping until his feet hit the floor. He stares down at me with a wide smile as I struggle to sit up. My muscles are still made of jelly, so it’s not an easy feat.
Jesse leans in and kisses me on the mouth, hard, before straightening. I gaze at him with narrowed eyes, but I can’t stop my own lips from curving up into a small smile.
“I love you, and now everyone here knows it. There is no longer any doubt––you’re mine. Now, get that gorgeous ass out of bed and get dressed. I want to introduce you to my father.”
19
FOREVER
Tapestries line the walls like some medieval castle, despite this being a modern-built home in a ritzy Malibu neighborhood. I pause to study the beauty of one intricately woven piece, but Jesse tugs gently on my hand, pulling me away from it. I can feel the tension radiating from him, so I don’t balk. I just squeeze his hand tighter and attempt to keep up with his swift, long-legged pace.
When we reach the top of the staircase that leads from the second floor to the third, Jesse pauses, his head tilting as a tendon in his jaw visibly ticks. He meets my questioning gaze before shaking his head slightly. Then, taking a breath like his lungs actually need the oxygen, he rounds the corner, keeping me close to his side.
A flash of movement catches my eye, and I look away from Jesse’s stoic expression to see a woman standing before the door at the end of the hall. She turns as we approach, and I realize she’s not a woman, but a girl. Young. If I had to guess, I’d say she couldn’t be a day over sixteen.
But as we get closer, and Jesse’s grip on me tightens to a near-painful degree, I realize my mistake. This is no girl, despite her youthful appearance. The truth is in her eyes, beautiful emerald green orbs that sparkle beneath a thick fringe of platinum blonde bangs. Those eyes speak of experience. Of an old soul trapped in a child’s body. And when they land on me, the speak another language, entirely.
One of hatred and, dare I say, jealousy.
This beautiful creature, so obviously a vampire on closer inspection, is the solid, non-breathing epitome of a green-eyed monster. I see it in her gaze at it studies my face, then travels down to my hand, held so tightly in Jesse’s. I see it in the way her jaw rotates as if she’s grinding her sharp teeth together in anger. I see it when she visibly dismisses me to focus her venomous attention on Jesse.
“Glad you could stop fucking your concubine long enough to come visit our father.”
Our? I choose to focus on that revealing wording rather than the calculated insult of calling me a fucking concubine. The strange mixture of fury and fear has me on edge, and I shuffle closer to Jesse.
“Jasmine.” Jesse’s voice is firm and impatient, and she rolls her eyes dramatically like the teenager she appears to be. Only then does Jesse introduce me. “This is Eden. She is mine, and you will treat her with respect.”
Jasmine nods demurely, but despite her acquiescent body language, I can see the mutiny sparking in her gemstone eyes. Jesse must see it, too, because he remains rigid beside me.
“My apologies…Eden,” she says, her gaze pinning me to the spot as she shoots me a feral smile. “I am Jasmine. Daughter of our king, Franklin Belloy, and sister to Jesse Lee. It is my great pleasure to meet you.”
Sweet, sweet venom drips from the words, and when she holds out her hand for me to take, I flinch back. Jesse squeezes my hand in encouragement, but holds me back when I move to shake his sister’s hand.
“Shall we go in to see father?” he asks, motioning for Jasmine to open the bedroom door.
“Of course,” Jasmine replies, never moving that terrifying green gaze away from mine.
I feel like I’m caught in a horror movie, and I’m the dumb shit who’s running up the stairs to trap myself in a closet instead of heading for the exit. And Jasmine can rip the hinges off that closet door while barely lifting a pinky.
Finally, she looks away, turning to grasp the lever and push open the heavy wooden door. Darkness spills out from the interior, and Jasmine all but disappears, swallowed by the shadows. Jesse gives my hand another squeeze and bends low to speak directly into my ear.
“I’ve got you, Eden. You’re safe.”
I swallow thickly and nod, and he steps into the room, pulling me into the darkness behind him. As we follow Jasmine to the shrouded bed, I grip Jesse’s hand even tighter. The room smells stuffy and somehow…ancient, and the scent sends a series of shivers vibrating down my spine.
A voice in my head screams at me to run. To leave this room and never come back.
I can see Jasmine’s vague outline in the darkness as she moves around the bed to stand on the opposite side. Jesse leads me to the closest edge, then leans over. A clicking sound meets my ears, and a dim glow spreads across the bed, highlighting the prone figure laying atop the bedsheets.
I inhale sharply and tuck myself behind Jesse’s shoulder. My wide eyes can’t believe what they’re seeing.
Franklin Belloy, the strong vibrant vampire king I saw on television just a few weeks ago is barely recognizable. He looks truly dead, his body petrified like a fossil from ancient times. His skin is gray and brittle-looking, his closed eyes sunken, and his lips colorless and flaky with dried skin.
“Father,” Jasmine says gently, “Jesse is here.”
The king’s lips part, and a low, terrifying groan rumbles between them. His eyes blink open and snap in our direction, the quick movement so at odds with his deathly appearance that I barely manage to bite back a startled scream.
“My son. At last. You’re here,” he whispers hoarsely, the words broken like just speaking them is draining every last bit of the strength he has left.
