The Blood Ruby (The Arcane Artifacts #2)

Chapter 27 - Hunger and Longing

Laurent swept into my room, tray in hand. I half expected him to stop doing this now that things had changed, but he appeared more invested than ever. There were two mugs of hot chocolate instead of one.

I closed the door to Cinna's crate and made myself comfortable on the couch, suddenly shy. After returning from the beach, most of my mind had been occupied by thoughts him. His kiss was branded on my memory. Absentmindedly, I reached up and brushed my fingers across my lips. They'd been swollen for hours.

I caught Laurent's gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched. "Hope you don't mind an old favorite," he said, handing me a plate with a gooey cinnamon roll.

"Never," I breathed, all but snatching it from him.

I ignored the fork, lifting the roll to my mouth and taking a bite, getting sticky frosting everywhere. It was still warm. I groaned. So good!

Laurent watched unblinking as I devoured the whole thing. It should have been awkward, but I liked his undivided attention. I began licking my fingers clean of frosting. His eyes darkened. Did he like how my tongue felt against his skin when I fed from his wrist?

The stray thought made my toes curl.

"What's that look for?"

My cheeks flushed. I cleared my throat. "Uhm. Nothing?"

He hummed. "You've got—"

I froze as he leaned towards me. Was he going to kiss me? His tongue darted out. My breath caught as he licked the tip of my nose, cleaning away the frosting there.

"Oh," I breathed. My body tightened everywhere.

He pulled away, staring into my eyes. "Delicious."

I didn't breathe—couldn't breathe. He sat back looking relaxed—the opposite to how I felt—as if that hadn't just happened. But it had! He'd licked my face. My freaking face. Licked it.

I clumsily reached for my hot chocolate, gulping it down. Casually, he picked up the other plate and used his fork, eating his cinnamon roll far more elegantly than I had.

I blinked, clearing my scattered thoughts. "Will you tell me more about the vampire season?"

"All right." He set his empty plate on the tray, took a quick sip of hot chocolate, then leaned back. I tucked my feet beneath me, turning to face him.

"The vampire season is an age old tradition. An opportunity for the heads of our great houses to gather. Flouril is where it all began, where we first came to be, so that is where we return. More than that, Flouril is a vibrant place, culturally rich, filled with history. We vampires like such things, no? Beautiful, precious things."

The way he said those last words made it clear he was no longer talking about Flouril. His hungry gaze traced my face, eyes dipping briefly to my lips, then settling on my neck. For a moment, he looked every bit the vampire he was. Then he blinked, and found my eyes once more.

"Every year, our kind converges on the city, each house in attendance." He continued speaking, painting a vibrant picture of vampire aristocracy, wealth, and power. Days spent strengthening old friendships, promenading down city streets, enjoying all the city had to offer. Nights spent indulging in parties, balls, and other more questionable activities. All the while, plotting behind closed doors, forging new alliances, and strategizing against enemies.

"It sounds like a competition," I said at last, setting my finished mug of hot chocolate on the tray.

"It is, and this year, I plan to win."