A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 369: Tantrums?

Chapter 369: Tantrums?

Draven shook his head.

"I don’t know. A month if it were to be long." He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her mark, and back to her earlobe.

Avelina tightened her grip on his thigh, not able to keep still. Her breath hitched, and she threw her head back against his shoulder, shutting her eyes to keep herself sane. Thinking straight was not an option because the entire train of thought going through her mind was completely jumbled.

"Draven—" Avelina cried out in vain as Draven put a hand over her mouth and brought his lips close to her ear. He eyed her, a spark lighting in his pupils at the sight of her messed-up expression.

"I love you, sunshine," he whispered, tracing his fingers up and down her lower abdomen. "We have an eternity together now, don’t we?" He bit into her neck. "You really are mine. Mine!"

"Tell me something." His left hand grabbed her neck while his other hand roamed her body, teasing her mercilessly. "Do you think any other man could ever make you feel like this?"

He waited for an answer from her, but none came because Avelina was completely lost, resting on cloud nine.

"Hm, tell me, Sunshine." He began to undo the bottoms of the shirt that she wore while grazing her skin with his hot fingers.

Avelina trembled, writhing in his hold. She breathed heavily, as though chasing after her breath.

"Avelina?" Draven pressed, wanting an answer from her. "Tell me, do you think another man can ever make you feel like this?"

Avelina frantically shook her head at him. "N-no. Draven, wai—"

"Good." He smiled against her shoulder, his fangs elongating. "I would kill any man who dares to touch you. I don’t really like sharing. What is mine is mine, and you are mine. Mine and mine only."

"The breath you take, your body, your love, your smile—every second of your time, they’re all mine, no one else’s."

"I’d rather the world burn than not have you." His red eyes twinkled darkly, none could tell what was going on behind them, not even Avelina, who was completely at his mercy.

Perhaps when a man who has no knowledge of love falls into that abyss of emotions, it becomes more than just love. It becomes an obsession—the need to possess, to draw a territory, and to own what is his.

——

At the table within the pavilion, everyone sat, including Valentine, who’d made it back to the royal mansion.

Old Master Lenort chewed slowly on his food, his finger tapping busily on the spoon in his hand. He lifted his eyes, glancing at everyone.

Seeming to have something in mind, he took a deep breath and asked, "Where is Draven?"

Valentine immediately halted eating. He was quiet for a few seconds before secretly sparing him a glance. Of course, Old Master Lenort didn’t miss his gaze. He questioned, "Do you have an idea, Valentine?"

"I’m sure that even if the others are not aware, you should know something."

Valentine shrugged. "I don’t know. If you are worried, then you can—"

"I’m not worried," Old Master Lenort interjected instantly, his face crumpling in annoyance. "I asked you a simple question, and all you need to do is give me an answer. And don’t you dare lie to me."

Valentine rolled his eyes, dropping his utensils. "I’m not sure why you are asking me such questions. I am not Draven’s keeper, nor am I a stalker, so I don’t really see why I should know about his whereabouts or what he is up to."

"If you are so curious, send out people to find him. Please, do not bother me. I’m sure Ryan can give you a heads-up."

He went back to calmly eating his food.

Lumian glanced at him with a grimace evident on his face, knowing very well that their father definitely would not take such rude words well. He awkwardly glanced at Old Master Lenort to see his entire face turning deep red in anger. He was fuming.

"Brat, are you suffering from some sort of screw loose in your head this morning?" he questioned. "I am your father, and you don’t speak to me like—"

"My father?" Valentine snorted, shaking his head in amusement. "As far as I’m aware, you are only my father by name, nothing more than that. I don’t consider you one, so please don’t say things like that to me, it really doesn’t sit well with me."

He dropped the fork and spoon and stood up to his feet. "I have lost my appetite."

"Take a step from your position, you won’t like how I will handle you, Valentine!" Old Master Lenort warned. "Sit down and eat!"

Valentine took a moment before exhaling and turning around to look at him. "What exactly can you do, father? What more will you do to me that you haven’t already done?" he asked.

Old Master Lenort was staring at him. "Is this one of your tantrums?"

"Tantrums?" A glint of disbelief flashed in Valentine’s eyes. "That’s what you call it?"

"Of course." Old Master Lenort shrugged, no ounce of sympathy evident on his face. He knew and was aware that Valentine was in deep pain. There were no suppressants available, and due to Valentine having no way to take care of himself during his heat, considering he could not have anything with women, the agony was the only thing set out for him.

But still, he didn’t think he had anything to feel guilty about. Valentine wasn’t important, and as worthless as he was, he could only be useful for his own gain. Whatever he has done to him in the past, it cannot measure or make up for the fact that he’d kept him alive and given him equal rights that his other siblings had—this he believed. In fact, Valentine should and must be grateful to him.

He scoffed, his eyes filled with utter contempt. "Whatever happened to you, you deserved it."