The Vampire Prince and His Brat | On Hold

Chapter Twelve | A Bratty Ball

Kaliana wouldn't deny the sheer satisfaction she got from stepping on Leviathan's toes, especially when he didn't retaliate – aside from the glare she could feel boring into her, harder with every misstep. It was entirely accidental of course, or so she told herself. She was still blindfolded thanks to her dearest husband, so why couldn't she enact some good old fashioned revenge by being a terrible dance partner? They only had one dance, after all. She had to make the most out of it. It'd probably be the only time she could get away with something like it. There was the satisfaction she got, and she had an excuse too.

Though apparently she wasn't as subtle as she'd hoped. Leviathan knew exactly what she was doing, and he didn't seem awfully happy about it. "Honeybun, should we call it a day here then?" he asked, voice sickly sweet to her ears. "Your feet seem to be getting a bit tired."

She swallowed. Did she really want to stop the damned dance? Leviathan had said they'd be leaving after the dance... going back to his room. She could do it. She couldn't show weakness. She couldn't leave any openings for him to tease her. "That would be lovely, my dear." She could barely spit out the words, clenching her teeth. She wasn't nervous. She wasn't nervous in the slightest.

"I'd give you another massage if I could," he said, that familiar teasing lilt in his voice. "But we're in public now, and the noises you make aren't all that appropriate."

"Neither is your face," she grumbled bitterly.

"What was that, sweetheart?" he asked. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"Of course not, darling."

"Aww, aren't you the cutest, pumpkin?"

Kaliana resisted the intense urge to vomit. How many ridiculous pet names could he come up with?

His fingers pinched at her cheeks as he led her out of the ballroom, nodding to various people Kaliana didn't recognise in the slightest, with the occasional thank you for your attendance thrown their way. "Though I must say," he murmured once they were out of earshot. "You're even cuter when you're moaning in my arms."

She spluttered. "What are you saying, bastard?"

"I was simply saying you were so cute while you were getting your massage earlier... why?" She could feel his eyes on her. "What did you think I was implying?" He leant closer, face only inches away from her own.

"None of your business."

"You're my wife," he said.

"And you're a—"

Something sweet was shoved in her mouth before she could finish her sentence. There was strawberry jam on the pastry. Her favourite.

"Tart, love?"

She licked her lips, glowering at him from behind her blindfold, silently wishing he'd hurry up and shut up. Her stomach was already twisting itself into knots. She just wanted some peace and quiet... and for him to hurry up and remove the damned blindfold. She was hot, bothered, and incredibly flustered. It had everything to do with the man walking beside her. "Where the hell were you keeping that?" she asked, genuinely curious as to where he'd pulled it from.

"I thought you'd need a snack," Leviathan said, his hand going to the back of her head, pulling the little metal clasp loose.

Her stomach dropped like a rock. She'd need the energy... She swallowed as the blindfold fell away from her face, the silky white fabric soon tucked away in his pocket. Kaliana looked around where they'd ended up, heart pounding furiously. They were in the corridor leading to both of their rooms. Teeth sunk into her lip, her legs starting to shake. She wasn't ready. She couldn't sleep with him. How was she supposed to sleep with someone she barely knew? She'd always imagined that if she ever be married, it'd be to someone she knew. Someone she could trust not to laugh at her in bed. Her hands shook, breath coming in short gasps. What if she embarrassed herself? She'd missed all her lessons on anatomy and marital preparation – assuming she wouldn't need to know about them.

"Brat..." Leviathan's voice echoed through the haze.

"No." She shook her head. "I can't."

A hand patted against her cheek. "Brat. Listen to me," he said, tone sharp, none of the teasing edge to it unlike before. "You need to calm down." He was too close. "Dammit," he muttered, and Kaliana blinked at the sudden dizziness before she was thrown over his shoulder.

A door opened, silvers and blues coming into view, her hands trembling as she felt herself set down on the bed. She couldn't do that. Her arms wrapped around herself, tears leaking down her face, unable to keep them from falling any longer.

Two hands grasped her shoulders, and she flinched. "For Skora's sake!" Leviathan hissed. "Listen to me, brat. I'm not going to force you to do anything."

Kaliana froze, staring into those icy blue eyes, surprised by the sheer warmth she saw in their depths. Maybe the bastard wasn't as much of a git as she thought he was... "Really?" her voice was small, all of her earlier courage having fled.

Leviathan stood back, staring down at her, an oddly severe expression on his face. "I've never forced myself on a woman, Kaliana," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I most certainly don't intend to start with you. You're my wife. We'll be together for the rest of our lives."

She blinked. Leviathan could be kind...

"Which means I'll have plenty of time to seduce you." He leant forwards, the teasing glint Kaliana was coming to know all too well returning to those icy eyes of his. "Before that time comes, I'll make you beg, sweetheart."

She took everything she'd just thought back. Leviathan wasn't kind. He was an absolutely annoying git.

His lips pressed against her forehead gently, crushing her rising rage with a tidal wave of confusion. What the hell was he playing at? "Sweet dreams, love," he whispered. "I'm sure they'll feature me in there somewhere."

Kaliana scowled. "Then they'd be nightmares."

Leviathan chuckled, turning to face her at the door. "Do you want me to call the maids to help you with your dress?" he asked, hovering in the doorway.

"Please," she grumbled. He was still a git... but she supposed she could admit he was different to what she'd been expecting, and not entirely in a bad way.

"Sleep well, brat."