"What are you doing here, Laurent?" Ravić scowled as he got to his feet.
Laurent shut the door with a soft click, locking in and strode in, arms folding across his chest.
"This is my club," he said. "I came to check on you both, see if you've told her."
"No, he hasn't," I interjected, crossing my arms.
Ravić shot me a glare, before directing it to his friend.
"Don't you dare, Laurent," he warned.
"You're married to him," Laurent said nonchalantly, just before Ravić slammed him against the door so hard, the walls trembled.
"You're his vampire bride!" he choked out, voice strained as Ravić's hand tightened around his throat.
It was like the ground had shifted beneath me the moment his words echoed in my skull. None of this felt real. Like this life was never meant to be mine. Vampire bride? Since when were we married? Far as I know, siring a newborn vampire doesn't come with marriage, so how the hell does that work?
"See what you've done?!" Ravić shouted in Laurent's face, banging him hard against the wall.
"She deserves to know!" Laurent shot back. "And you know I'm right."
"How is that even possible?" I gasped, my hand drifting to my stomach. It was bad enough the prince had sired me. Now I'm finding out that I'm married to him?
Ravić rushed to me, gripping my shoulders, practically shaking me. "It doesn't have to mean anything, not if you don't want it to," he gritted out, eyes searching mine, desperate and helpless.
"I'll never get my old life back, will I?" I whispered, my breath catching in my throat as the room seemed to tilt, reality splitting at the edges.
Ravić clenched his jaw, his hand dropping to his sides, his red irises changing to gray, like the clouds outside the cottage in the storm.
"No, you won't," he admitted quietly.
"Is this the 'bond' you both were discussing about?" I asked, my voice coming in pants.
Laurent approached us, snapping his jaw back to place.
"Yes," he said.
Ravić glared at his friend. "I told you she's not ready."
Laurent rolled his hazel eyes. "She'll never be ready, my prince. Not unless you tell her what she's supposed to be ready for."
"I didn't want her to know. At least not until..."
"How exactly did this happen?" I cut in, my patience snapping. I was done letting them talk about me like I wasn't even standing here.
"It's not like we had some kind of ceremony, not that I remembered..." I trailed off, picking through my memories.
"We didn't," Ravić admitted with a sigh. "Though, to be fair, you didn't know our customs, so I highly doubt this even counts."
Laurent rolled his eyes again. "It counts, and you know it."
It was my turn to shoot him a glare when he turned to face me, his expression pitiful.
"Like I said, vampires are naturally possessive creatures. We're not really big on consent. So yes, since you're bound to our prince, that naturally makes you our princess."
The words hit me like a slap.
Our princess. Fuck. Even it sounds absurd in my head.
I stared at him, blinking as if it might clear the fog crowding my thoughts. The room suddenly feels too small, too red with these silly lights, too loud with the music vibrating through these walls, too still with these two watching me like a hawk.
My heart pounded. Everything else seemed to pause, like time itself had stopped to let the absurdity of the situation to settle in.
I took a shaky step back, then another. "I...I need some air."
Neither of them tried to stop me as I turned and walked through the large door on the other side, leading to the balcony. Cold air blew through my skin, giving me the air I needed to breathe before it fully suffocates me.
I leaned against the railing, head dropped between my arms as I breathed.
Not only am I now a married woman, but I'm also a princess.
And the way we've been fucking...does that mean...oh no.
"You're not pregnant," he said, his accent thick, the words sounding more like fear than a fact. Like the thought scared him just as much as it scared me.
"How can you be so sure?" I asked, my voice muffled, head still down.
"I would know, considering I'm the one doing the fucking, too," he replied, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back, like he's relishing on the feeling of my cool silk against his skin.
"Enough with the vague answers, Ravić," I bit out, twisting around, back pressed against the railing as I grabbed the collars of his jacket. "How exactly did this happen? How are we married?"
He tucked my hair behind my ear, lovingly running his fingers down my neck. My eyes fluttered at the sensation against the cool air but I remained strong.
"Tell me," I rasped, even as my body thrummed with heat again. There's something about him that I can't seem to get enough, ever.
He pressed me hard against the railing. "It happened the moment we drank each other's blood back in that cottage," he confessed, his arm caging me in like he's afraid I might run.
"And you never thought to tell me?" I snapped, jaw clenched, anger burning through the haze of want.
He twisted me around, my back pressed against his chest. I could feel him, already hard and pressing against my lower back.
I freeze, as my eyes locking to the ruins of buildings torn part by bombings and natural disasters across from us.
He wrenched my neck away from below, baring my throat to the sky, his grip tight enough to make me wet.
"You've got no right ordering me around," he hissed against my ear.
I moaned the moment I feel his tongue licking my skin, trailing down my neck.
"You're mine," he growled, lifting my skirt, his finger trailing between my legs.
I grind against him, moaning towards the sky like a cry of help. My hips moving along with the relentless rhythm of his fingers, pushing in and out of my pussy.
"That's right, Rosie," he whispered against my ear. "Tell me you're mine."
"No..." I moaned, but he only added a finger, pushing me hard against the railing.
"Are you sure about that?" he murmured with a grin, pressing my head down.
My eyes locked on the dark road below. Tiny human figures wandering aimlessly, scavenging, starving. Cannibals.
"You can hate me all you want," he growled, as I hear the sound of his zipper unzipping behind me. "But admit it, I've saved you from a worse fate."
I move my hips against him, desperate to have him plunge inside me but he wouldn't budge.
"Tell me you're mine," he whispered, brushing my hair aside and pressing a soft kiss on the crook of my neck. "Then I'll give you what you're so desperately begging for."
I shut my eyes, hips grinding harder against him, trying to push his dick inside me but he only held my hips tight, keeping the small distance between us. I need him, can't he see that? He already had me.
"Say it," he bit out.
"I'm yours," I said, and that was all it took.
He slammed into me before the words even fully left my lips, claiming what was already his.
Because that's the truth even I hadn't dared to admit.
No one could ever fuck me this hard. The slapping sound of our skin forming a beautiful melody along with the loud party music.
I'm truly, irrevocably his.
No one can compare, not even the man I nearly fucked on the dance floor.
No one.