Chapter Forty-One

Adrian pauses his whisking in a large bowl to glance over his shoulder at me, trying to gauge my reaction to his answer. “There are different types of Sorcerers, and not all of them have the same type of magical abilities. My father never spoke much of your father’s power, so I couldn’t tell you what yours might be like. If he was an important member of the council that created and signed the pact for each species to follow while on Campus, he must be fairly strong though. I can’t imagine why he decided to conceal himself as a human,” He adds, turning back to his work of combining ingredients into the mixing bowl. I watch as his muscles flex at the stirring motion, animating the tattoo on his left shoulder. “If you want to know more about your lineage, you’d have to ask your father,” He adds on.

I sip my coffee thoughtfully, staring down at my cellphone that rests by my elbow on the counter of the island. “I’m waiting for him to call me on his break. I’ll ask him later about that then. Are they essentially just Witches and Wizards then?”

Adrian nods as he grabs a skillet from beneath the oven and sets it on the stove, heating the pan on the flat top surface. “Basically. Do any of your shows have anything about them?”

“Some of them do,”

He turns to look at me over his shoulder, reaching to sip his own coffee that sits beside the stove while he works. “We could watch some of the scenes they’re in. I might be able to tell you if anything is accurate while we wait for your father to call.”

“Okay,” I wrap my hands around my own mug, looking at my reflection in the black liquid. It looks just like Adrian’s eyes this morning while we were laying in bed together. I try to push the thought away, reminding myself of the topic at hand. It doesn’t help that he’s strutting around with his perfect abs gleaming in the sun like some sort of god. Honestly, who gave him permission to look so good? “What about Vampires? I gather that your species don’t mix very well. That part seems accurate to the shows.”

Adrian sighs heavily into his coffee as he lowers it from his mouth, muscles taut as a bowstring at just the mention of the word. It explains why he was vaguely annoyed by my show about the teenage Vampires falling in love with a human girl. He clears his throat and turns back to the stove to pour the first crepe, expertly tilting the pan every which way in order to get the batter evenly and thin. “You could say that. The Clan Romanov is a family of backstabbing dicks. They don’t care about treaties or rules. If they want to do something, they do it.”

“Is that Vincent’s clan?” I ask, sensing the rise of Adrian’s anger just talking about it. I’ll just get a little bit of information before moving on to a different topic so he doesn’t get too worked up. Jasper seems to know all about Vincent and the Vampires too, so I can just ask him.

A muscle in his jaw jumps as he clamps down, appearing to fight against saying something he might regret. He tosses the pan in the air with expertise I could never dream to achieve, the crepe landing perfectly upside down into the skillet. “Yes. Just stay away from all of them, please. Even if they say they’re from a different clan, they all ultimately answer to the Romanovs anyway.” His voice is edged like a sword, biting out every word as if it pains him to speak about it. I guess I’ll do my best to avoid them for now for his sake since he very clearly wants to eradicate their entire bloodline if given the chance. I get the sinking feeling that the feeling is mutual, judging by Vincent’s obvious glares whenever he sees us.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay far away from that Malfoy wannabe,” I say, hoping that it sounds genuine enough to calm him down. “Besides, it’s not like you ever leave my side anyway, so they’ll never have the chance.”

Adrian presses his lips into a tight line and focuses on flipping the first crepe onto a plate, wasting no time in starting the next one. He offers a stiff nod, asking me to continue with any other questions I might have. Since he doesn’t seem to know much about my people and the Vampires piss him off too much to ask about, I guess I’ll bring up a topic he’s well-versed on.

“Is it true that Werewolves have super strength?”

Adrian seems grateful for the change in topic, shooting me a softening look over his shoulder as he flips the crepe. “More than a human, at least. If I wanted to, I could bench press both of our cars at the same time,” Though he tries to keep up his reserved tone, he can’t help but give away the pride he feels about being so strong.

I drop my jaw in astonishment, narrowing my eyes at him. “There’s no way,” Even as I speak my doubts, my eyes flicker down to his naturally toned body. “Can you all do that?”

He must be able to tell I’m asking about Jasper’s abilities because he snorts, flipping the thin cake onto the plate with the others. “Only the Royal bloodline is strong enough to go head-to-head with a Vampire.”

“Isn’t Jasper your cousin?”

He shoots me an apologetic look over his shoulder as he pours the last of the batter into the hot pan. “I lied about that. He’s in my pack, but he isn’t related to me. He comes from a long line of Beta wolves,” He sees my blank expression and explains what that means. “Beta’s are like the second in commands of the pack. If something happens to the Alpha or he isn’t there, the Beta steps in. But not everyone with Beta bloodlines can become the Beta. They have to prove themselves worthy of that position as an individual.”

“Is Jasper not worthy of it then?” I ask, giving him a pointed look. “Because you seem to hate him quite a bit. I can’t imagine you allowing him to be your second,” I polish off my coffee and hop from the stool, going to the espresso machine to start on a second cup.

Adrian sees my intentions and raises an eyebrow. “Haven’t you had enough caffeine yet? I put two shots in yours this morning.”
I give him an innocent look as I measure out the espresso, packing it down before popping it back into place to start the machine. “I had quite a workout this morning. You wore me out.”

Adrian tries to keep a straight face but fails miserably, unable to hide his grin. “You’d better get conditioned then,” He suggests with a laugh, shooting me a wink. He sets the last crepe on the plate with the others and takes the hot pan off of the heat, setting it aside. He comes to loom over me, placing his hands on either side of me, bracing himself against the counter. He doesn’t touch me, but his lips are so close that I can nearly taste them. “Would you like creme with your breakfast?”

I fold my arms over my chest and lean as far away from him as I can, keeping my expression composed. His bare skin and burning eyes make it hard, though. “I had no idea you were so hypersexual,” I say, the breathless tone giving me away. I can’t help it; every breath I take is filled with his intoxicating scent as if everything about him is inviting me in. “You hid it pretty well at the start.”

Adrian’s expression makes a warm feeling blossom inside of my stomach, making it hard to resist touching him. My whole body quivers with the effort and I pray that he doesn’t notice. He does, of course, looking me up and down slowly with a slow smirk that looks unfairly good on him. Was his mother a goddess or something? Even the sun that comes in through the kitchen windows illuminates his body perfectly as if the whole world favors him, casting him as the main character in its play. He leans in close, his cool breath tickling my eyelashes when he speaks. Yet, he still doesn’t touch me, waiting for me to give in first. “I’m only so promiscuous for you, Lydia. That’s what happens to Mates once they meet;” He leans in to whisper in my ear, causing a cascade of shivers to skitter across my spine. “They can’t keep their hands off each other.”

I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth to keep it from wobbling with the rest of my body. That would explain why I’m suddenly pudding in his hands, despite my best efforts to maintain my dignity. I’ve always been independent in my relationships, so I don’t understand why I’m at the mercy of this man after one round of intercourse. Maybe that’s the thing that triggered this reaction for my body, making every muscle sing for his touch, craving it like a drug. "What did you do to me?" My voice is a whimper, begging him to touch me.

His eyes fall to my lip and he finally gives in, reaching to pull it away from my teeth. His voice is a rumble in my chest as he presses his hips against mine, pinning me to the counter as he grabs the back of my neck with a gentle touch, forcing me to look up at him. “Don’t do that,” He murmurs, dark eyes falling on my face again. “It’s horribly distracting.”