Page 30 of When Night Falls
"Why did you bring me here, Rivian?" I turn to see him rub his finger against his bottom lip.
I shrink into myself, getting the feeling I did or asked something wrong, maybe something against his mind compulsion. But he debunks my thoughts when he turns back to me to speak.
"When you say my name…" He appears to be a little flustered as he talks to me. His eyes seem to hold some kind of admiration in them. Hunger.
I start to back away a few steps, nervous that he might try to eat my neck the way he did to that girl in the dark room. But I won't deny that I like the way he's looking at me right now, the way his eyes are burning a hole into my memory, begging to never be forgotten. He's handsome. So entirely, dangerously handsome.
"I won't hurt you, but I won't hide the fact that I do crave the way you say my name, Lucynda." I feel heat brush against my cheeks and spread down my neck and toward my belly, lower and lower. I've never been in such close proximity with someone who intimidates me and makes me feelspecialall in the same moment. This was the exact feeling I’d gotten from him the night in my bookstore.
"Despite what I am, you have to know that your trust is important to me. I also need you to know that I don't want to have to compel that sweet mind of yours again. So any question you might ask, if you receive an answer that makes you defiant, I will corrupt your thoughts." He talks to me in a phlegmatic tone, though still displaying his power through the demanding way he looms over me. Despite having the most mesmerizing green coloring his irises, his other features only feed the darkness he weeps.
I simply nod my head at his request and hope to God that I don't piss him off. I feel tranquility overcome me in short waves which is what I cling to as I wait for him to answer the question I had asked him before he made me blush.
"This is the Hollows Trace compound." He waves his hand around the large foyer of the castle. "It's also my kingdom and home to the Hollows Trace Society, which is made up of Hollow vampires, or otherwise known as Nocturnes." He stops his explanation and allows me a moment to take in the words he spoke, and I have a feeling that more pressing and unbelievable words are about to leave his mouth.
"Shadow Creek is our home, but there are other societies of Nocturnes occupying towns like this one all over the world. Think of it as a book club held by a library. There’s lots of libraries all over the states and each one likely has its own book club." His analogy is very understandable, but it’s silly to hear him speak so . . .childish.
I start to walk toward the hallway of paintings, needing to have something to distract my mind from overthinking as he talks to me.
He follows behind me.
"In short, you are here to be the queen of this kingdom and I am in line to be king. In order to do that, we need to marry."
That gets my attention.
"Marry? As inbride and groomwalking down the aisle?" My head snaps in his direction, tranquility out the door.
I can see the look of worry cross his face, but not out of pity or concern for me. Out of warning to get my shit together or I will be forced to lose control over my conscience by the likes of him. Despite the slight comfort I feel in being in Rivian's presence, I know he can change all of that if I don't behave on my own accord. I know I am truly in danger if I allow myself to react.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady the race for knowledge gnawing at me. I need to take his information slowly if I dare to have a chance of understanding any of this at all.
"Do you know how old I am?" I turn to ask Rivian, remembering the way his eyes traveled up my body the night atthe bookstore and how absolutely captured I was by him. Now, I slowly roam the halls of his castle while he explains to me that he wants to marry me so I can be his queen. Forget the existence of vampires, the idea of marriage at the age of eighteen is illogical.
"I do, Lucynda. I know a lot more about you than you might think," he admits, his fingers graze the side of his jaw as he looks up at one of the paintings instead of watching for my reaction. "Do you know how old I am?"
I shake my head.
"Technically, I'm eighteen, like you." His answer shakes me.Technically? Eighteen?How does that make much sense?
"What do you mean?" I keep my back to him as I prod for an explanation.
"I died on my eighteenth birthday. Thirteen years ago."
I gasp, turning my head in shock. If I do the math, that would make him…
“You’re thirty-one?” My question leaves on a husky tone, knowing that his answer would mean that there is a thirteen year age-gap between him and I.
“Technically, I haven’t reached my thirty-first birthday just yet. That’s in a few months.” His answer seems so normal. But I don’t think about it too much because a more morbid question comes to mind.
“How did you die?”
Rivian looks down at me, his green eyes boring into mine.
“That’s a story for another day.”
I feel sad knowing that he had to die to become who he is, knowing that death is probably not a pleasurable experience.
"Well, then how long exactly have you been following me?" Part of me fears the answer, the other part of me craves the way he touches his fingers to his skin, remembering how they felt on my own; his thumb caressing my scar just hours ago. No one has ever found beauty in the reminder of the pain I'd suffered, but hedidn't look at me like I was damaged or dimmed. He looked at me like he admired me all the more because of it.