Gypsy Truths

He says the words so casually, and his eyes meet mine.

“Yes, lightning is a source of her energy and her power, but fear is a source of nourishment. The more she feeds—”

“The stronger she becomes,” I cut in, finally understanding. “Even from the dead, monsters feared her name. That’s the real reason why the cults hunted Portocales. She hates the Portocales, so she sacrifices them to be sure her name carries on, even if she’s dismembered and buried. Her flock feared her enough to carry on in her absence, even if it meant living a life in the shadows and exiled from the monster realm.”

“But they didn’t step out of line or need much of my intervention,” Vance tells me. “Because Idun really does scare her flock into complete submission. There’s nothing but true terror when you’re faced with Idun’s monster off its leash. It’ll humble any soul.”

He pauses and looks over at me.

“Don’t let me say something I feel to be benign, only to find out you’re seething in a vat of feminist fury the entire time,” he says, eyeing me with so much wary caution that it’s almost funny. “And don’t be jealous of anything I used to feel for Idun, when I’m sharing things so freely.”

Almost.

“I’m just listening. I’m not looking to judge or take anything personal right now.”

“You’re not going to let me run off seemingly meaningless details and burst into tears before making me feel like an awful person? Because I don’t have any idea how to be with a sensitive girl from today’s era, Violet,” he says on a weary breath.

My own breath gets trapped in my lungs when he spins and suddenly cages me in against the counter.

Our lips brush, but he holds back, simply content to fuck with my head, apparently.

“Try and try as I might, I consistently fail your expectations. You hold me at too high of a standard, little monster. I was never the legendary slayer of all evil. I was just another major piece on a chessboard, as we attempted to rule the bloody world by controlling what people—monsters—knew.”

A chill sneaks up my spine as he drags me closer, eyes staying fixed to mine.

“But I’m every bit the monster they are. The monster so shallow he believed silver held more importance than anything else. The monster who can’t give his flock longer than a temporary induction. The monster who can’t lay claim to a woman by any other means than a title and a ring,” he says, pulling a very suspicious looking box up beside my head.

There’s suddenly a knot in my throat to accompany the abrupt ring he’s revealing. Clearly it’s a diamond. It’s a very classy diamond.

It’s nothing at all like I’d pick for myself, but it’s certainly something Vance would choose for me.

My head is officially in ramble mode, because that’s decidedly an engagement ring he’s chosen for me.

“I couldn’t decide on a ring for you, so I retrieved one from my family’s vault. This one has the most interesting story attached to it that you’ll appreciate, and it’s the most attractive, so I can appreciate it. See? I can compromise.”

That ring was less intimidating before he gave it a bigger meaning.

“Can you compromise a little more, Violet Carmine? Can you trust us more? Perhaps allow a little more slack? We are trying to protect the world, and all. Damien Morpheous just took a beta. You’re helping me out tremendously,” he carries on.

“I hate it when you make me feel stupid for getting mad about something a normal person would get upset about,” I point out.

“Normal is a relative term,” he murmurs with a small smile, being far too charming as his lips brush mine again. “What is normal among a realm of ancient immortals dating a pureblood first of her kind?”

Rolling my eyes, I lift my hands to land on his chest, as he continues to hold the ring.

“What were you saying about Idun before you deflected with the flashy Van Helsing family heirloom?” I ask, admittedly warming up to the very intricate diamond ring.

He puts it on the counter next to me, giving me a chance to study it better, since I can’t look away. In the center of the diamond, barely visible, there looks to be a floating stamp with VH.

“How that stamp got there is where the fascinating story about betrayal, lust, and forbidden romance come in. Are you sure you’d rather hear about Idun right now?”

“Idun feeds on fear, and all of you decided to make everyone fear her. Which means she’s the supreme leader and can spank anyone’s ass. Is that what you’re saying?” I ask, admittedly a little absently, since the beautiful ring is almost calling to me.

“Essentially, yes. All the Neopry skin-walkers feed on fear. For a while, Idun could dream walk and induce night terrors. It’s possible she’s still able to do that, along with a whole host of other tricks she’s yet to pull out. This is still the beginning, Violet. It could take centuries before she truly strikes. These are all just small jabs, for now. It is more serious than you take it.”

“But without the fear, she’s just a normal alpha?” I pry, curious how one stops an entire world from fearing a powerful, vicious, brutal, relentless monster.

“She took the potentially strongest spirit into herself, and she was the architect of everyone’s misery for so long that fear on such a dominant level empowered her.”

He bends swiftly, crowding my space all the more, as he lifts me at the waist and drops me on the counter. Pushing my legs apart, he steps in between them, smelling as fresh and tempting as always.

Not a hair is out of place as he puts both hands on either side of my hips, lips brushing mine in that teasing way once again.

“If you think I’m ready for sex so soon after Damien claimed me, you’re insane. My vagina needs a rest,” I decide to inform him.

He struggles to keep a straight face, even as he slides the ringer closer to me.

“I’ll leave it with you. When I see you wearing it, I’ll know your answer. I’ll be a patient man, Violet.”

I blink several times, because this is not what I expected when I came down here. I expected to kill a ghost and go back to my interrupted sleep.

Not a proposal.

“Why in the world do you want to marry me?” I ask, unable to help myself, because sometimes I can’t make things make sense, if they make no sense at all to me.

“Because your vagina can handle a derailed train, apparently. I’m not sure that’s bragging rights, bestie. I’m starting to think you’re a bit of a basic slut,” Anna chimes in from somewhere in the room, slicing through at least a little of the tension.

Vance casts some side-eye in her general direction, before giving me his attention again.

“You upset easily, and I have quite the lengthy past I’m sure you’re not going to approve of,” he tells me, as though that’s some sort of answer to my question.

His hand smooths up my side, and just the heat of his touch has a pulse racing in my achingly used nether regions.

“You’re going to have to make peace with the monsters we’ve been, the monsters we are, and the monsters we’re likely going to be. It changes from one century to the next, based on what we’ve learned from our mistakes. Damien got tired of the challenge too many centuries ago to bother keeping up with the elapsed time.”