“Stealing?” I repeated, trying to imagine what he looked like as a child.
“Back then, gold was seen as the metal of the gods and believed to have descended from the sun. Many tried to use it to make ornaments, jewelry, but the lords of our time, those much richer and more powerful, forbade it to be worn by commoners. That way, when they walked, we would all know they were of status. Very foolish to me, for it made them easy marks.”
“I thought you said your mother left you money and stuff. Why did you steal?”
“I didn’t steal for wealth. I stole to prove I could get away with it. It was a thing of pride for my childhood self. It was something perilous, and yet I managed it. All the other boys thought of me as some kind of hero. They never told on me because I gave them the things I took,” he said, and for some reason, he still seemed so proud of it. It was somewhat funny. “However,” he went on, “I do not believe my mother understood my motivations, as her answer was to give me more gold and jewels.”
“Spoiled.” I gasped. Rhea really did treasure him above all else.
“Very.” He grinned. “But that was also the reason I stopped. One day, a woman was caught stealing a ring from some high-born woman. They cut off her hand and branded her face. I saw it happen and worried the same would come of my mother. After all, I thought there was only so much she could get away with giving me. So, I stopped and carefully used the money she gave me to enlist in the military.”
“Do your stories always have pain?” I frowned as he brushed his thumb over my lips.
“Where was the pain?”
“A woman lost her hand and was branded.”
“She stole.”
I gasped, my mouth hanging open. “Hypocrite!”
“Very much so.”
For some reason, I laughed, and he grinned, flipping me over and climbing back on top of me. “In time, you will learn my many other faults.”
My eyebrow raised. “Is that so? What have I learned so far? Other than your promiscuous past.”
He chuckled, leaning forward until his face hovered above mine, so close that our noses were nearly touching. “I have learned you are prone to jealousy, unforgiving, and petty.”
“Hey—”
He kissed my lips, stopping me from speaking—but only for a moment—before our lips separated. “Strange how I enjoy that it bothers you.”
“It does not—”
Once more, he kissed me, and this time, I felt his tongue as it entered my mouth, and just as I arched up, he pulled back.
“It is the nature of mortals to complain even in jest over the past, young one. We are vampires—mates. Whenever you wish to claim me, all you must do is bite.”
“What happened to biting someone being ‘highly improper,’” I shot back, looking at him.
“That was before we were mated,” he replied and moved his head…his lips to my neck. “That’s why it was improper. Vampires don’t just let anyone put their teeth on them.”
He didn’t bite, only kissed my neck before bringing his face back up.
“But I let you bite me to see my past,” I said.
“The wrist and the neck or heart are very different. Nevertheless, none may ever do so to you except me.”
“If they do—”
“I will rip them apart.” The murderous intent in his voice was clear, yet I never felt fear or worry or even anxiousness. Lifting my hand, I pressed it to the side of his face.
“I believe you.” I cupped his face in my hands. “I know you are this formidable, dangerous vampire, that you’ve most likely killed more people—mortal and immortal—than I could even dare to count. Yet, I can only see you as this gentle, patient, and sweet man for some reason. Why is that? Is it because you are my mate?”
“They say love is blinding,” he replied, shifting my legs apart with his knee and placing himself between my thighs.
I smiled. “Another round? You have not slept once. So it’s only sex that can keep you from giving in to daylight?”