Gypsy Moon

I don’t even know when my eyes sealed like air-tight locks, but I crack one open when everything remains still. Arion’s hand is still firmly clutching my ass, and his other is in my hair, as he starts kissing up the side of my neck.

“I paid the ferry toll,” I remind him as he continues gingerly kissing the side of my neck, backing me up to a wall.

“So you did,” he murmurs against my neck.

Like a bad habit, my neck turns, giving him more access instead of cutting it off like I know I should, flirting with disaster.

Arion groans as he presses against me more, his grip tightening on me, as his lips travel up and brush mine. “Shouldn’t the others be up here by now?” I ask, swallowing thickly when one of his fingers toys with a place on my neck, his attention there.

“They’re currently arguing,” he murmurs almost absently. “Tell me, Violet, why do you work so hard to keep from being left alone with me? You’ve given me your throat when I was at presumably my worst—”

“Presumably?” I interrupt in deflection, my fingers lacing behind his neck as I attempt to support some of my weight.

“I’m not really sure I’ve been at my worst yet, Violet. There are limits I’ve done well not to explore. I wasn’t conscious during that state; therefore, I don’t know if I was at my worst or not,” he says like he’s assuring me, lips ghosting mine again. “Answer me. Why are we never alone?”

“Looks and feels like we’re alone right now,” I point out.

His lips twitch. “You know they can hear me if I can hear them.”

“I bet Emit can hear me from my cellar then,” I state dryly, mentally assessing how weird and quiet Emit has been.

Fucking. Great.

Arion’s grin only grows. “This is a story you can tell me another time, love. I truly want to hear it, since the temperamental wolf is huffing and puffing at the bottom. But for now, answer me. Why can’t we be alone?”

Even the sound of his voice makes me want to make stupid decisions.

“I told you it’s you I want,” he goes on, lips teasing mine once again as he keeps his voice hypnotically smooth. “So this isn’t really about Idun, despite what you—”

“Shouldn’t you check the place out or something, instead of keeping your vulnerable back turned to all your surroundings?” I ask, clearing my throat as I sober a little.

His eyes narrow on me. “We’ve already checked the place over twice because you were at the bottom of the cliffs. It’s perfectly safe, Violet. Stop avoiding my questions if you’re truly not playing games with me. I don’t particularly like games that leave me out.”

My gaze holds his for an awkward length of time before I exhale, gently toying with the ends of his soft, short hair, as I give up pretending to help hold myself up.

“For reasons I can’t discuss at the moment, I trusted you once.”

He slowly lowers me to the ground when I start trying to move, and my hands slide down to his chest, as I steady my breath.

“You sort of shot holes in that trust, easily saying one thing while meaning another,” I say in barely a whisper, studying his eyes that give nothing away, same for his stoic expression.

He gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, not meeting my gaze.

“And you’re using that as an excuse not to trust that I mean what I say now,” he states like he’s figured it all out. “Because you enjoy being chased.”

“That’s not at all what I’m saying, Arion—”

“I’m happy to give you your chase, love, so long as you continue to touch me like you’re doing now,” he says, glancing down at my hand on his chest. “The touch reminds me it’s just a game, despite you saying it’s not. Clearly, I’m not the only one of us who says one thing and means another entirely.”

His smirk really infuriates me.

My hand slowly slides from his chest, and his smirk falls with it, as I give him a tight smile. “Idun played a lot of games, didn’t she?”

“The maddening woman did little else,” he says with a shrug.

“You worked around her to get what you wanted when you could, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” he scoffs like there could be no other possible answer.

“Working around me is almost counterproductive, because I generally go with the flow, unless there’s a barrier I can’t cross,” I explain, even though he just looks confused. “Manipulating me is really easy to do, if I trust you, so there’s no sport in that challenge for a man like you.”

He moves my hand back to his chest, and I don’t fight him, just letting him hold it there, since he looks so lost.

“My mom always said I was unbreakable, but the truth is I’m just resilient. I’m not at all unbreakable. With you, it’d be easy to be consumed and forget all the little warning signs of the strong denial you’re portraying, should you be earnest—”

“I’m very earnest, Violet,” he says, sounding almost angry now.

I pat his chest, certainly not wanting to piss off a psychotic vampire who hasn’t tried to kill/hurt me as of yet.

“You’re treating me like I’m Idun, Arion. You started this entire thing by manipulating me and working around me, telling me the truth after the fact,” I say, whispering again.

“I already bloody admitted you started as a replacement. Give me time to adjust. I fall the hardest. Already told you this too, love. It’s too late for you, I’m afraid.” He leans forward abruptly, gently nipping my earlobe. “And I haven’t wanted anything as much as I want you in far too fucking long. I’ll have you, Violet. At some point, you’re the kind of sweet girl who will see it cruel to continue to make me chase.”

A shaky breath snakes out of me when he places a single, soft kiss on the spot of my throat he’s been fascinated with—the spot where he bit me and didn’t leave a lasting mark.

“The next time will be much better when that time comes. My patience only struggles because of how sweet it was to taste a Portocale that didn’t burn the tongue. But it’s not the Portocale in you that lingers in a man, driving the most patient of the four to the brink so easily,” he says in that soft, hypnotic tone once more.

“No,” he goes on, kissing my neck again. “It’s a taste like no other—one powerful taste at first, but a simmering second one, so subtle and unique. It grows increasingly more addictive each day that passes without it, the craving almost unbearable. If another vampire ever tastes your blood, I’ll have to kill them to keep them away.”

My heart sinks a little. “So now the reason you want me is because of my blood?” I ask in an even tone, staring at what bit of his cheek that I can see.

I feel his grin against my throat. “A very welcome fringe benefit, Violet. An effective side effect, but not the catalyst.” He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger as he leans back, solid black eyes meeting mine.

A chill immediately slithers up my spine, and it’s not me who is knocking down the temperature this time. I don’t notice it as much when I apparently do it.

I notice it very much right now.

As goosebumps pebble my skin, my eyes flick to the barely-there points of his fangs that are teasing me with a glimpse.

“I’m saying you tempt the monster on the surface, and the one underneath,” he goes on.

I don’t know what to do or say. Every reaction I have leads to him reading way too much into it, and I don’t usually have to overthink my reactions, damn it.

He’s like a loaded shotgun with a sensitive trigger. I’m not good with those. At all. They always leave a mess for me to clean up.

“Just tell me how to change it, Violet. Tell me what I can do. Don’t continue to write me off so easily, when we both know you want me as much as I want you,” he goes on, gently dragging his lips up my neck. “Give me a direction.”

It’s exhausting trying to constantly pretend like I don’t miss Ace every day, and I have so many unanswered questions that I’ve wanted to ask for so long.

“Maybe we could discuss some things as friends—” I pause when a glint of amusement crosses his eyes. “—and whenever you face Idun and deal with that very complicated history, instead of making me feel like the rebound or time-out girl, then we can talk.”

The amusement dries up quickly with that last bit.

“They’ll give you basements and chocolate, Violet, but I’ll give you absolutely anything. Why isn’t that enough?” he asks like he’s getting slightly offended.

“Uh-oh,” I mutter under my breath, inwardly cursing those diplomatic lessons I got the ‘gist’ of when my mother was preaching at me. “Maybe I worded something wrong, because that was supposed to be good.”

“Uh-oh is good?” he asks like he’s confused.

“No, that was—”

A howl has him turning his head, his hand coming up to my cheek.

“Are we in danger of wolves attacking here?” I ask in the quietest whisper I can muster.

“Not from those wolves. They’re getting antsy because we’ve arrived unannounced, and we aren’t the kind to let others in on the stupid shit we’re about to do. But Emit can sort them out. No worries,” he says as he faces me, smiling humorlessly. “Or I can kill them. Their choice, really.”

I open my mouth to point out that it’s things like that which have me really questioning his sanity, when he adds, “Take a look around, love. Once she comes out of hiding, which is undoubtedly going to happen soon, you’ll likely not get another chance.”

He kisses the side of my head, and he’s gone in the next instant.

I didn’t really want to do this solo.

I’m questioning why I have a very confusing relationship status with four guys, who all claim to want me, yet have to face things like this castle alone.

I’m tempted to call for Vance, but wonder if those distant howls don’t have all their attention. My guess is that I’m safer up here than down there, in their opinion. It’d be rude to ask for a hand-holder while there’s possible danger below.

I need to stop thinking.

I’m quite literally on a mountaintop that has very little land surrounding the massive castle that stands alone up here.

There’s no bridge to more land. It’s just an isolated castle at the top of a steep peak that is really and truly only accessible by climb, and the fog up here is so thick that it’s hard to see too far out in front of you.

I manage to find the entrance, and the entire door groans as I push it open. Only creepy darkness greets me from inside the crack I make, and the groaning door echoes throughout the empty, sketchy looking structure.

I thought my mother’s house had a lot of dust, but the slick floor tells me this place is covered in it, even if I can’t see.