“I’m not worried about being exposed by humans,” Olivia mumbled into her travel pillow before pivoting toward me.
“Okay?”
“You have no idea what you’re getting into once we get there.” Worry flashed through her dark brown eyes.
“Then why don’t you explain it to me.” I bit back the urge to assure her that we’d be fine. If she was worried, she had a reason, and there hadn’t exactly been a lot of time to discuss our worries before leaving.
“We’re going to be there for Kranitel Days,” she explained, tucking her hand under her face.
“Hence why I packed my tux,” I teased. “It’s a celebration of the end of the vampire hunts during the medieval days, right?”
She nodded. “But more than that, it’s a celebration of mates and fertility, of bringing our species back from the brink of extinction.”
“So, what about that has you worried? The fact that some aristocrats fly in for it?” Though I’d never participated in the Sorokin’s famed festival, I’d heard plenty of stories.
“It only happens once every ten years, and my family pulls out all the stops.” A slight smile graced the curve of her mouth. “It’s two weeks of balls, dinners, and…competitions.”
“If you tell me we’re headed into a dance-off with a bunch of aristocrats, I’m going to start looking for the nearest parachute.” I grimaced.
Her smile bloomed into a full grin. “I signed us up for the disco night contest. We’ll be dancing to Copacabana.”
“Shit. We’re near land, right? I can swim.” I lunged upward, and she laughed, playfully pushing at my chest to lie back down, so I did. “You and I both know that neither of us are afraid of a little competition, Olivia.”
“We’ll be under scrutiny,” she whispered.
“Aren’t we always? I stand at Alek’s side as his master of combat. You’re the bodyguard to the princess of our entire species. If there’s a spotlight, we’re already in it.”
“Spotlights are one thing. My mother is a damned microscope.” She sighed heavily. “I told them I mated with someone in the palace but never gave them a name. I told them his position demanded secrecy, but they’ve never stopped pressing me.”
“Secret’s out now.” I reached for her wrist and stroked my thumb over the temporary tattoo of my mark inked above her wrist. Olivia had been a student, then a friend for the last two hundred years. I should have been above the primal wave of possessiveness that swept over me every time I caught sight of the mark, but I wasn’t. It wasn’t real. Logically, I knew that. Physically, my body…reacted. Mine. Mine. Mine.
I tried to shut down the territorial voice in my head. For all the manners and grace I’d been taught over my centuries, it was easy to forget that under the polish and shine—I was a predator, pure and simple.
“They’re not going to be easy on you.” Two lines appeared between her brows. “My father, my mother, my sisters…they’ll all be twice as hard on you because of my…secret.” My lie. The words lay unspoken between us.
“I can handle them,” I assured her, squeezing her hand. Her skin was petal-soft with the exception of the calluses she’d gained from working with weapons. “We can handle them.”
“We’ll be expected to enter some of the competitions, especially the gauntlet, as a mated pair.” Her eyes were heavy with apology.
“So we’ll enter. When’s the last time you or I backed down from a challenge? We’ll blow the competitors out of the water.” I slipped my hand from hers while I still had the willpower to do so. My chest ached with the demand that I soothe her worries.
Apparently, just seeing a mating mark—even a fake one—was enough to throw my body out of whack. Maybe I should have taken that little redhead up on her offer back at the estate and gotten laid one last time before leaving.
But I didn’t want the redhead. I wanted—
“You don’t think anyone will catch on that we’re not exactly…intimate?” she whispered. “If they find out the truth, I’ll be sequestered like a child.” Her hand curled into a tight fist.
“Olivia, I’ve fought with you. I’ve sparred with you. I’ve been in battle with you. I know the curves of your body and the strength of your muscles. I know you feign left when you’re going to break right, and that you only miss with your daggers when you mean to. I can tell when you’re teasing because you can’t keep a straight face and when you’re furious because your right eye starts to twitch. We’ve been friends for two hundred years. If that’s not intimacy, then I’m not sure what is.”
Her lips parted, and the air between us charged with the weight of the history between us.
I cleared my throat and broke eye contact as I sat back up. There was no chance of me getting any sleep when all I could smell was her. “You should get some rest,” I urged, then reached for the manilla envelope I’d placed in the storage compartment.