“Please, call me Roman.”
I was taken aback by the request, but I kept my expression blank. After all, I was trained to do anything asked of me. I took his hand, and he drew me into his embrace. As our skin touched, his darkness seeped into me like ink through paper, uncomfortable yet not unpleasant, like a warm velvet blanket over my chilled skin.
He swirled me across the dance floor, one hand cradling mine, the other brushing over my mid-back. Every touch was like chilled electricity lighting up my flesh, yet his careful contact offered a reprieve from the groping I had come to expect. Other couples dipped out of our way as we danced, subconsciously aware of his disconcerting presence and omnipresent power. He didn’t seem to notice, though. His eyes were locked on mine, as if I were the only person in the room.They burned into my soul like embers, and I wondered if he found anything there besides emptiness and hatred.
He spun me again and caught me smoothly upon my return. His hand remained firmly in place on my middle back, unlike others who would wander. “So, Estrella, what are your thoughts on the party?”
“It’s wonderful. I love the opportunity to meet new people,” I lied, the words slipping from my mouth with practiced ease.
He laughed. “It’s ridiculous and stuffy, and I believe you agree with me.”
My mouth parted at his remark, but I quickly composed myself—no expressions allowed. I could never reveal my true feelings. Batting my eyes, I looked up at him. “That is unfortunate. Why attend, then, if you don’t mind me asking?”
His glittering fangs flashed in a smile. “Why does any man attend these events?”
My heart skipped at his words. It was a ridiculous question, of course. His controlled demeanor might have lulled me into comfort, yet they were all savages—he was no exception.
“Have any acolytes caught your eye?”
His gaze swept over me thoughtfully, lips curling into a smirk. “Yes.”
As the song ended, he stepped back. His gaze lingered on me with curious intensity as he cocked his head. Unlike the others, his look was not of depraved hunger but one of profound understanding, as if he could see into my very soul. I dipped my head to break eye contact, but his fiery stare kept burning holes into my flesh.
“Are you a count, Roman?” I asked, eager to break the uneasy silence. Counts and countesses, rulers of the vampire Houses by sheer force, commanded immense respect. His status would explain Edward's reaction.
Roman chuckled. “You could say that.” He extended his hand for another dance as the music resumed. I accepted with a curtsy.
“And which house are you the count of?” I inquired as he led me gracefully around the floor.
“I don’t see why that matters,” he replied smoothly.
His avoidance was exasperating. I pursed my lips before I could think better of it, tempted to retort, but the headmaster’s hateful grin appeared behind my eyes. Attitude would result in a whipping. I quickly willed my face back to neutrality, but he saw through my façade. “You’ve got quite the attitude, Estrella.”
“I apologize, sir,” I stuttered.
“Call me Roman,” he insisted.
Frustration creased my brow. “I’m sorry, Roman.”
He chuckled. “Your attitude is refreshing.”
An involuntary laugh escaped me. My attitude, often scorned even by my sister, typically brought me trouble rather than admiration. His eyes widened in surprise, and a captivating smile spread across his lips. Suddenly, he dipped me, his hand at my sternum guiding the movement with a lover’s gentleness.
“Your laugh could bring a man to his knees, doll,” he purred.
My stupid heart spiraled. Over the years, vampires had used many lines to make me swoon, like, “Imagine how powerful our spawn would be.” But this time, the way he said it almost made me believe him. Almost made me think someone might appreciate my attitude and laughter as much as my body in this tight dress. But he was just a smooth talker, just like the others. I forced myself back to reality. The only reason a man was interested in me was for my body, and that was unlikely to change.
“I’m sure you make the ladies swoon yourself, sir—Roman.”
“I am told I’m quite the charmer,” he said, his arrogant grin making me frown until I composed myself, returning to a mask of neutrality.
He pulled me close enough that I could feel his breath on my face, inhaling the scent of wood, smoke, and something sweet. The intensity of his gaze twisted my thoughts. “And yet, you’re the only one I’ve danced with tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because I like your attitude,” he explained, stepping back and spinning me once more as the song slowed. Though there was now space between us, my mind was left in shambles.
“Besides, I had to rescue you from Edward.”
