House of Royals(51)

“What?” he asks, unsure eyes searching mine.

“You have to promise not to fall in love with me.” And when I say it, I’m gravely serious.

Because it’s my greatest fear right now. More than being killed by a demented king. More than knowing I will resurrect. More than a future of craving blood. My greatest fear is what I’m feeling now and how much more of it I’ll be feeling the longer this goes on. And then to have that ripped away…

Ian doesn’t answer me right away. He studies me, and I know the self-reflection that’s going on in his head. It’s the same story for me. “That’s going to be a hard promise to keep, I’m afraid.”

“But you have to make it,” I say, feeling desperate. I place my hands on his chest, but my eyes fall away from his. I can’t look at him. “Because we have an expiration. And this will have to end.”

Ian’s breathing grows slightly faster and deeper. Heat rises in his eyes. He’s angry about this and this situation that I didn’t ask for—the one that neither of us can do anything about.

“Three and a half months,” he says with hardness in his voice. “Those three and a half months are ours, and if any of them mess with a single day of it, I’ll kill them all.”





“I KNOW THAT YOU’RE PERFECTLY capable of cooking Thanksgiving dinner, Lula,” I say in exasperation. “But I just thought it would be nice if I helped you with a few things. I work in a bakery, I could do the rolls and it really would be no problem.”

“Girl, you get outa’ my house and stop tryin’ to impose on ma’ family,” Lula growls at me. She literally shakes a frying pan at me.

I turn to Ian, exasperation on my face. “A little help here?”

“I…psh,” he says with a shrug and a shake of his head.

“Really?” I say, completely and utterly annoyed. “Look, Lula—”

“I said get outta’ my house!” she bellows at me.

I raise my hands in surrender and walk out the back door.

“Liv, wait!” Ian calls as he follows me out into the backyard.

“Wait for what?” I yell as he jogs and stops in front of me. “Your grandmother hates me. She won’t even let me in the door most days. Thanksgiving is in two days and she keeps saying she has all week to buy the food. There’s going to be nothing left at the market!”

“Yes, I know she’s completely bat-shit crazy,” Ian says as he puts his hands on my upper arms. “And she sleeps through half the day most days and Thanksgiving won’t be any different. Let’s you and I go right now and get the food. She won’t know any different.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. “Why is your grandmother such a bitch to me?”

“Did you just call my ancient, wrinkly, half-crazy grandmother a bitch?” Ian laughs.

“Well, that’s what she is!”

Ian shakes his head with another laugh. “Yeah, she is.” He takes my hand and starts walking me to his van. “But honestly, I think she hates you because she knows what you’re going to be someday.”

“You told her?!” I gasp in horror.

“No, no!” he reassures me as he opens the passenger door for me. I slip in and Ian rests in the doorframe. “Lula has just always had this…vampdar.”

“A vampdar?” I ask in bored disbelief.

“A vampire radar,” Ian just says as a smile tugs on one side of his mouth. “She just knows when one is close by, other than that one time she slept through one breaking into her house. But she knows. Even if you aren’t a vampire yet.”

“Hm,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “Key word is yet.”

“Let it go,” he says as he leans in and presses a kiss to my lips. I try to glare at him as he backs up and walks around the van to the driver’s seat.

Over the past month and a half, Ian and I have become experts in going out into town together without appearing to be together. Because with him being an enemy of the House and me having claim over it and all, it won’t lead to any good, us being seen together by anyone.

So we go to stores together. We each take our own baskets, grab our own food. We pass by each other in the aisles, only slyly making eye contact. We checkout separately and one of us returns to the car and the other follows a few minutes later. That’s the dangerous part, when we drive together. Most days we don’t risk it.

We’ve gone to restaurants together, but separate. I manage to drag out Rath every so often—it’s pretty rare. Ian brings along Elle. We catch each other’s eyes. Smile knowingly and continue with our separate meals.