CHAPTER 293: TWICE BITTEN

Ten minutes was up, and so was my patience.

I stood from the seat and started toward the door, willfully trying to put aside my anger. Perhaps the Lycan King had better plans for Adam, better people for him to meet.

I shouldn’t be angry. But it was futile. The annoyance slashed through me, beating against my head, pounding against my common sense.

Hadn’t he said five minutes? Couldn’t he have obtained an excuse from his father?

I hissed softly when the door opened just before I reached it. Adam stepped in, carrying a tray of food and drinks.

"I’m sorry..." he started, his smile faltering when he realized I had just been about to leave. "My father wanted to introduce me to some people. I got away as soon as I could."

I thought as much. Still, I made a move to get past him, determined to walk out of the hall. I wouldn’t be disrespected by anyone.

"Dora, please..."

His plea, combined with the tender apology in his eyes, was enough to quell my feelings for the moment. I sighed audibly, exaggeratedly, and returned to my seat, giving him a silent plus for remembering to bring food.

I hadn’t yet eaten since the party had commenced, and between dancing with the triplets and being consumed by Adam’s presence, I hadn’t paid attention to the grumblings of my stomach.

"Thank you," he said as he placed the tray between us. "You know, I thought you would have left me. Would have disappeared immediately five minutes was up..." He chuckled softly, lifting a goblet.

"You should have seen how I excused myself from the circle and rushed over to the food stand. They must have thought me a hungry, angry man."

I snorted but couldn’t hide my smile. I picked up the goblet, the rich scent of wine tantalizing my nostrils, stirring my senses, making me yearn for Adam more than I should. The wine of royals.

I took a tentative sip. The burst of flavors on my tongue was enough to draw a moan from me, then another sip, then another moan, shaking my head wistfully.

"This is good wine," I murmured, turning my eyes toward Adam.

He was staring at me, half listening, half lusting—I was sure of it.

"Stop looking at me like that," I muttered, setting the goblet down and diving into the food.

When we were done, Adam pushed the tray aside onto another seat, and the tension that had lingered since my little moaning display pressed down on us in full force.

I tried to dull the edge by taking more wine, but it only made me sensitive—sexually alert to Adam as he drew nearer.

"You have taken enough, Dora. I don’t want you being drunk. I promised Diana to bring you back sober."

I chuckled freely, realizing he was right—I had been on the path to getting drunk. "She made you promise?"

Adam nodded, taking the goblet from me and placing it back on the tray. His gaze returned to me, steady and sure.

"She is feisty, that one. And she’s bent on boring Raul to death. He can’t put her away either, because he needs to protect her—or whatever gentlemanly theory he has going on in his head—since she’s the youngest fellow in the party."

I nodded. That was true. I should be with Diana.

But Adam was already closing in, his eyes drifting from mine to my lips. He wanted to kiss me. And heaven help me, I wanted him to.

"Dora..." he breathed, his finger tracing my lips, driving me wild with want.

Get to it already, man!

"Do you want me?"

What sort of question was that?

I wanted him, yes, but I didn’t think I needed to declare it to get what I wanted.

Irritation bubbled inside me. And when I expected El to say something—a snicker, a jab—there was silence. Was she curious about how I would handle this?

I pulled away from Adam, meanwhile, feeling a budding headache suddenly. Too much thinking isn’t good, I mused.

"What is the problem? Don’t want to proclaim your feelings?" His tone shifted, sneering, sharp. "It’s just us in here. Why are you acting shy?"

I frowned, noting the edge in his voice, the sneer curling at his mouth. It was like another Adam entirely.

Panic spiked through me. Was history repeating itself?

I tried to breathe in and out, steady, rational. Maybe the drink was getting to me. Maybe I was hearing things.

But Adam made it worse. He closed the gap and crushed his mouth against mine.

A rough kiss.

It wasn’t passion. It wasn’t as I had imagined.

It was contempt. It was glee—wicked glee—and something darker I couldn’t place.

I tried to break away, but Adam held me fast, his hand clamping around my neck, nearly snapping it. My chest burned as my lungs fought for air.

Angrily, I reached for my magic, ready to end this. Enough of my mushy mind. Enough of this. But nothing came. No spark, no flow.

And that was when it dawned on me—I was in hot trouble.

My mind reeled with possible solutions as Adam devoured my mouth maniacally, mechanically. My lip tore, the metallic taste of blood sharp on my tongue. He licked it away and finally broke from me.

"Nothing sweet about your mouth even. But I’m sure my brothers will like to have a taste..."

I gasped, horrified.

"Or not," he added with a laugh, his eyes glittering cruelly.

Then, with a look of disdain, he stood up and clapped his hands.

Immediately, the door opened, and Daniel and Noah stepped into the hall, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"You thought you had us fooled with your beauty? Thought you could waltz in here and disrupt the peace of the territories, just because your queen lacked the balls to do what needed to be done..." Daniel sneered, spitting to the side.

"But we will show you that we are not to be tamed—that we are our father’s instruments of war for a reason. Thanks for helping us with the veil, by the way. You have outdone your usefulness, and now you can join your ancestors."