Unleash (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 6) (19 page)

A
urora lay in Snow’s arms, tucked in the midnight covers of his four-poster bed, trying to ignore the feeling gnawing away at her happiness.

She couldn’t bring herself to leave, even when she knew that she should. Snow gently stroked her arm, the fingers of his right hand trailing up and down its length. The steady motion soothed her and foolishly made her feel as though everything was right in the world when she knew it was worse than ever, crumbling faster around her now.

The urge to warn him that he had less than three days to prove he was able to live in this realm without endangering innocent lives burned through her again, forcing words to rise to the tip of her tongue. She bit them back, not because she feared her master would believe her compromised but because she feared that Snow would be angry with her if she told him that she would have to judge him soon, and it might end in his death.

He may have embraced that idea once, not so long ago. She had a feeling, a hope, he would despise the thought of going to his death now that he was getting better.

Now that she was in his life.

Snow had taken good care of her after they had made love in the rain on the rooftop, carrying her back into the warmer and certainly drier air of the theatre. Thankfully, no one had seen them as they had made their way back to his apartment. She wasn’t sure what someone crossing their path would have made of not only the fact Snow was carrying her, but the fact that they were both soaking wet and Snow was barely dressed.

Whenever she thought of their moment in the storm, her body warmed and trembled, aching to experience it again.

Her legs had still been shaking when Snow had set her down in the black-tiled bathroom and stripped her off, and she had felt disappointed when he had showered with her without intimately touching her again. She had sensed his nerves though and believed them to be a product of doubt. He was back to believing he was able to taint her.

It was too late for that.

With all of her feathers turned black, she was as tainted as they came. All she had to do was lose her soul to complete her fall from grace, and that might be inevitable now that she had given herself to Snow.

After their shower, Snow had carefully dried every inch of her, and had then washed her dress and hung it on the front of his ebony wardrobe to dry. He had led her to the bed and they had been here ever since, bodies bare and pressed against each other.

Aurora caressed his pectorals, busying herself with tracing the contours of his powerful muscles, feeling his heart beating hard beneath her fingers.

“It has been a very long time since you have committed a sin,” she said to break the comfortable silence, and because she wanted to hear his deliciously deep voice.

“I sinned no more than a few hours ago, on the roof, with you.”

She smiled and playfully slapped his chest. “You know what I meant. Many centuries have passed.”

“You sound almost proud of me.” He craned his head, as though trying to see her face and gauge whether she was. She stayed where she was, too entranced by the feel of his soft skin and hard muscles to lift her gaze to his. “Was that meant to be praise?”

There was an amused edge to his voice but it had disappeared when he next spoke.

“I went off the idea of wandering around committing sins after I killed my family.”

Aurora felt his mood shift, turning towards sombre and angry, two emotions he often seemed to experience together. His heart picked up pace against her ear and she sensed the pain that cut him deeply even after all the years that had passed since that night.

She smoothed her palm over his chest, trying to comfort him and show him that he wasn’t alone. She was here with him, and she had told him many times now that she believed in him, and that there was good in him.

“You are a different man now. You are learning to control your bloodlust.” She tilted her head back and looked up at him. He averted his frosty blue eyes, fixing them on the ceiling. Couldn’t he bring himself to look at her and see her belief in her eyes?

Did he want to cling to feeling wretched about himself that much?

She wanted to point out that constantly punishing himself was probably only making his bloodlust worse but held her tongue, knowing he would retaliate if she raised it and likely kick her out of his bed. She was comfortable here. Too comfortable.

“I am not,” he whispered and took his hand away from her arm. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, frowning. The dry lengths of his silver-white hair fanned out across the black pillows. “It still rules me more times than I manage to control it. I think it is your blood that is keeping me sane for so long. Maybe I need to keep you around and drink your blood exclusively, and then I can be my old evil self again.”

Aurora saw through the words he had said in jest to the truth beneath.

Snow despised his bloodlust and how it made him feel.

“If you keep fighting, you might perhaps be free of it one day, and able to enjoy life as your brother can,” she said and shifted onto her front, so her breasts pressed against the side of his chest.

He heaved a sigh, opened his eyes and lowered his hand to her hair as his gaze met hers. He combed his fingers through the black waves, staring at her with deep tangled emotions in his eyes, ones she wished she could decipher.

She had never felt like an angel until now. The way he looked at her made her feel beautiful and precious, and as though he believed she was pure and good, wonderful because she was here with him and she let him hold her like this.

She wished he would never let go.

A touch of sadness clouded her heart. It wasn’t possible.

She was getting in too deep with Snow, and already part of her feared she wouldn’t be able to carry out her duty and judge him with clear eyes and heart. Or her master would make a case to their superiors that she couldn’t and have her removed from the mission, taking her place so he could finally watch Snow die.

Snow’s expression hardened, his pale eyes filling with sorrow and darkness.

“I will never be free of my bloodlust.”

Those words hit her hard, forcing her to see that he would never be free of his affliction because he didn’t want to be free of it.

Snow still longed for death, and if he couldn’t have it, he would have eternal torment.

Aurora hated him for it.

She dropped her gaze, unable to look into his beautiful eyes when all they showed her was a terrible sense of finality, the eyes of a man waiting for his death, shut in a windowless room that felt like a tomb.

She didn’t want to lose him. She wanted to save him somehow, even when he didn’t want to be saved. The thought that he still desired death even after his impassioned speech on the rooftop and her risking everything by remaining with him was like a knife to her chest, piercing her heart and filling her with pain.

Since the night he had killed his parents, he had constantly sought his death, and had constantly punished himself for living by refusing to fight his bloodlust. He craved the torment as a twisted form of payment for his sins.

“You don’t want to save yourself.” It left her lips in a whisper before she could contain it.

She felt Snow’s glare on her face and refused to let it fluster her. Now that she had started, she needed to continue and let it all pour out of her. She needed to make him see what he was doing to himself.

“You never stopped seeking your death… an easy way out. You would sooner lie down and die than fight to live.” Aurora pushed away from him, the feel of his arms around her stifling her now rather than giving her comfort, making it impossible to breathe.

She only made it to the edge of the bed before he gathered her back into his arms, caging her against his powerful body. She tensed, expecting him to be rough with her, angered by her barbs.

Snow gently cleared the hair from her face with one hand and then his large palm cupped her cheek. He stared down at her, lying on his side with her. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, not when nothing she did would change his mind.

He didn’t want to save himself. Not even for her sake.

He sighed, curled his fingers under her jaw and tilted her head back. Aurora closed her eyes. It didn’t deter him. He found another way to sneak around her defences.

He kissed her, softly and slowly, full of feelings that warmed her body but failed to lift the chill from her heart.

“I could learn to desire to live again in time,” he whispered against her lips, “if you stayed with me.”

It tore at her heart. “I don’t have time. You have less than three days now.”

He drew back and she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“Why do you have to go in three days?” His dark silvery eyebrows knitted into a frown.

“I must report to my master.” It wasn’t a lie.

“I will take all the time I have with you then, and make the most of every minute.” He dipped his head and kissed her again, melting her defences completely and setting her blood on fire.

She responded this time, sweeping her lips over his, savouring his cool taste. He drew her closer, the full length of his bare body against hers beneath the black covers, stirring the fire within her into an inferno that pooled in her belly and at the apex of her thighs. She told herself that she couldn’t do this again, couldn’t give herself to Snow when all he wanted was death and it would lead to granting that wish.

Her master would kill him without hesitation.

Her body didn’t get the message. It burned wherever he touched, achy and hot, shivering with a fierce need to be one with him again, regardless of the consequences.

Aurora slipped one hand around the nape of Snow’s neck, burying her fingers in his overlong white hair, and deepened the kiss. Her tongue bravely stroked his and he moaned, the sound wanton and erotic, deep and thrilling, tempting her into doing it again.

A knock sounded.

Snow growled, his hands caught her waist, and he pushed her back, breaking their kiss.

“What?” He twisted at the waist, looking over his shoulder at the panelled mahogany door.

“Let me in, Snow.” Antoine, and he sounded very upset about something.

Aurora guessed it was her presence in the theatre, and in particular Snow’s room. Antoine didn’t trust her. She could never hold that against him. He wanted to protect his older brother and those at the theatre, people he considered his family. She hadn’t exactly proven herself worthy of his trust either, sneaking into Snow’s room and making herself visible only to him.

“Go away,” Snow snarled and rolled back to face her.

Metal scraped on metal.

Antoine would not be denied.

The door opened and Aurora gasped as Antoine burst into the room, his red eyes seeking her. Instinct told her to hide herself from his gaze by shrouding herself but she refused to heed it and instead gathered the black covers to her chest, shielding her nudity. She rose into a sitting position. Snow instantly moved to shield her too. The covers pooled around his waist and his big body blocked her view of Antoine.

“I said, go away.” Snow’s deep voice was little more than a dark growl. Aurora peeked over his left shoulder.

“Not until I see her.” Antoine casually closed the door and leaned against it, folding his arms across his chest, causing the silver-grey shirt he wore to tighten around his muscles. The red in his eyes faded but lingered around the edges of his irises and his pupils returned to normal.

She laid her hand on Snow’s shoulder to let him know she was all right with his brother meeting her. She wanted to allay Antoine’s fears and didn’t want the brothers to argue about her. It had hurt her when Antoine and Snow had come to verbal blows about her at the party. She didn’t want it to come to that, or worse, this time.

Snow huffed, the sound feral and menacing, and slipped nude from the bed. Antoine kept his gaze fixed on Snow, tracking him across the room, a wary edge to his ice-blue eyes. Snow swiped a fresh pair of black underwear from the chest of drawers and put them on. Aurora remained where she was, clutching the covers to her, her legs tucked close to her bottom beneath them.

Antoine’s pale gaze slid to her. “I take it you have slept with my brother?”

Her cheeks blazed. Snow growled a warning.

“That would be a yes.” Antoine’s eyes narrowed with his frown, a piercing look she was used to receiving from Snow and one the brothers had practiced to perfection. She had never met brothers who shared such similar facial features and expressions.

Aurora wasn’t sure what to say to Antoine to smooth that frown away, and his dark emotions with it. She was tired of lying to everyone, covering her tracks and concealing the real reason she was here.

Or was it the real reason?

Part of her now felt as though the reason she was here with Snow was because she needed to spend time with him, ached to be in his arms and look upon his face, and hear his voice, and breathe in his masculine scent. She hungered for the sweet gentle caress of his touch. She wasn’t here to watch him so she could judge him. She was here to satisfy her need to be close to him, because she feared that she was going to lose him.

Sleeping with him had probably only signed his execution order though.

She shoved that thought out of her mind. She could still gather enough evidence to prove that Snow was not a threat to humankind as her superiors believed. She was no longer impartial, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make them see the truth about Snow.

They had to look at all the evidence she produced to support her verdict. If she could get enough to prove him capable of functioning safely in society without any danger of his affliction consuming him and causing him to massacre hundreds in a quest for blood, then they would have to accept her decision. Wouldn’t they?

She didn’t care what happened to her, not anymore, not as long as Snow lived.

She wouldn’t falsify her claims though. She needed to do something that would make Snow reveal that he was able to become a part of society again.