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After carrying out Arthur's plan, Vespa found herself with a little bit of free time.
'What should I do?'
Mira and Garrett were probably busy with each other, so she couldn't really join them. And even if she could, Arthur wouldn't let her.
Pouting, Vespa leaned up against the stone archway and overlooked the campus grounds, her amber eyes scanning the students passing by.
'Maybe I could have fun with one of them.'
Her eyes drifted across the crowd.
'He looks like he's got a big cock. Oh, I like his looks — he'd be fun to tease. Or maybe...'
Her gaze landed on a girl walking arm in arm with what appeared to be her boyfriend.
'She's bi. And he's also got a big... oh, yes. That'd be fun. I should go over and—'
A sharp itch pulsed from her collar the moment the thought fully formed, biting into her neck like a warning shot.
"Yeah, yeah. I know," she muttered under her breath, scratching at the skin beneath the silver band. "I hear you, you damn collar."
Sighing, she let her hand drop.
'Fine. If I can't have fun with them, I'll just go play with my hubby then.'
She pushed off the archway and started walking, making sure to jut out her hips with each step, moving with a rhythm that made her look like a runway model — every step deliberate, designed to make people stop and turn and look.
Humming softly to herself, Vespa made her way to the Watchers dormitory. As she stepped inside, the scent of polished wood and old stone greeted her. A few students in the common area glanced up from their books, sneaking looks as she passed — her figure had become a common sight for anyone who wanted some eye candy. Eye candy Vespa was very much willing to give, because she loved the attention.
'Being beautiful really is a gift that keeps on giving.'
She couldn't help but think it as she rounded the corner and headed up toward Arthur's room, her humming growing softer as she reached his door.
She knocked.
No answer.
She waited a second.
'...What time is it?'
Pulling a pocket watch from inside her uniform, she checked the face.
He's in class.
"Damn it."
She smacked her heel against the floor and tapped her fingers against her lips, trying to think of what she could possibly do with herself. Hubby was always busy. She walked away from the door and down the hallway, boredom creeping in like a disease.
'This is the worst part about having a leash,' she thought, tilting her head back. 'Can't feed. Can't play. Can't even flirt without this damn thing zapping me. And hubby hasn't played with me in ages because he's been too busy watching Garrett and Mira have fun. He's even played with Amy before me.'
'This isn't fair.'
Irritation simmered at the back of her mind as she continued down the hall, complaining to herself.
'Well... at least he gave me those etiquette lessons. Even if they sucked. It was the only real one-on-one time I got with him.'
She needed something. Vespa's body twitched she'd been left alone for too long, and if she didn't get some relief soon, her pent-up lust was going to become a very real problem.
Walking out of the dorm, Vespa made her way toward the Virtus side of campus, not really thinking just walking.
She turned a corner without looking.
Bam.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't—"
She looked up.
Blonde hair. Blue eyes. And a face that looked like it had been designed to make people feel chosen like being noticed by it was a privilege.
Damien Blackwell.
"No, no. I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention," he said, extending a hand toward her, smooth as reflex.
'Well. Speak of the devil.'
Vespa blinked twice playing surprise, playing flustered as she took his hand and stood, swatting the dust off herself.
"Lord Blackwell." She tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "I am so terribly sorry. I was completely in my own world. I didn't even see you there."
"No you're alright I wasn't paying attention ever. Vespa, was it?" He said her name like he hadn't needed to think about it at all. Like it had been sitting right at the top of his mind.
"What are you doing all the way over here in Virtus?"
"Me?" She tilted her head. "I was a little bored, so I was just kind of walking around. What about yourself?"
"I was on my way to meet up with someone, but I have some time to spare." He smiled easy, and practiced. "If you're bored, you could always keep me company."
"Oh, I would love that." Vespa put both hands up, eyes brightening just the right amount. "Arthur is in class right now, and I don't really know too many people yet. So I've just been wandering around like a lost puppy." She laughed softly. "So Yes. I would absolutely love to spend some time with you.
Damien's smile widened.
"Then how about you follow me? I'll take you back to my room, we can have some tea and chat."
"Sure."
Falling into step, Damien and Vespa walked at an unhurried pace, his small talk filling the quiet between them as they went.
"So, how are you finding the academy?" he asked. "I'm sure it must be quite different from being a servant."
"Oh, it is so different." Vespa tucked her hands behind her back as she walked. "I mean, back with the Webb family it was just work, work, work. Wake up early, clean, cook, tend to whatever needed tending. There was just so much I needed to do, you know? Arthur's mother is rather lovely, so she always gave us a little free time, but the estate itself is rather..."
"Small?" Damien finished for her.
"Yeah. Small." She shrugged. "There's just not a whole lot to do out there. It's in the boonies. But now, being here on the campus, this large estate, all these people and things to do, it's amazing." She paused. "But I'm still bored, because I've been a servant my whole life and all my friends are servants too, and they have no free time. So I don't know. I'm still just trying to figure out what I want to do with myself."
"Well." Damien glanced over at her. "You could always spend more time with me. I'd love to have you around. And I'm sure I could introduce you to some people." A beat. "Helena especially. I bet she'd love to introduce you to some of her friends."
"Really? You think she'd do that?"
"Of course. I don't see why she wouldn't."
They reached his door. He pressed the key in and pushed it open, stepping aside.
"Ladies first."
"Thank you."
Stepping inside, Vespa took in the room as Damien shut the door behind them and locked it with a quiet click.
"Don't want anyone walking in while it's just the two of us," he said. "They might get the wrong idea."
"You're right." Vespa smiled over her shoulder, then drifted toward the window, leaning forward against the sill and peering out making sure to let the hem of her skirt ride up just so, the underside of it catching the light as she looked out over the view. "What an amazing view you have."
"Amazing, isn't it."
His eyes weren't on the window.
Damien licked his lips, his gaze fixed squarely on the curve of her ass as she leaned there.
"Say, Vespa." His voice shifted still smooth, but with a new edge underneath it. "What was it like working for Arthur?"
Vespa stepped back from the window and raised a hand to her cheek, tilting her head as if genuinely having to think about it.
"Honestly?" She shrugged, making it look like it didn't much matter. "He barely noticed me. I was just another servant. He already had a personal servant that being Mira. So I didn't really serve him directly. I more served the estate."
She turned to face him.
"But, you know how it is with us Webbs. We each have our own... characteristics."
"So I've heard," Damien said. "Could you elaborate on these so-called Webb family characteristics?"
"Oh, easily." Vespa smiled. "Well, you see, there's a reason people call our house the family of whores. The amount of debauchery going on in that estate, oh, you could write a novel about it."
She sat down on the chair across from his desk, crossing one leg over the other slowly enough that the motion did its job.
"The maids, the guards, the visiting merchants nobody's off-limits, really. It's just... how things are. The border is dangerous, the nights are long, and people find comfort where they can." She gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "Even I wasn't immune to it. You pick up certain habits when you're surrounded by that kind of environment your whole life."
Damien had been pouring tea. He set the pot down without filling the second cup.
"Habits," he repeated, his blue eyes fixed on her.
"Mmhm." Vespa uncrossed her legs, then crossed them the other way. "Skills, really. The women on the Webb estate are... well, let's just say the reputation isn't exaggerated."
Damien abandoned the tea entirely. He leaned back against his desk, arms folded, studying her like a painting he was deciding whether to buy.
"And Arthur? Did he partake in these... habits?"
"Arthur?" Vespa let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-dismissal. "He barely looked at any of us. Cold as ice, that one. Always in his room studying or training. Mira handled his... personal needs, I suppose. But the rest of us?" She shook her head. "We were furniture to him."
'You want to believe he's nothing. So I'll give you nothing.'
"Interesting." Damien's voice had dropped. He pushed off the desk and walked toward her, slow, deliberate the same walk Helena had probably seen a hundred times before it ended badly. "So you're telling me a house full of beautiful, willing women, and the boy couldn't be bothered."
"Some men just don't have the appetite, I guess." Vespa looked up at him through her lashes. "Not like you."
The corner of his mouth curled.
"No," he said. "Not like me."
He reached down and took her hand, pulling her up from the chair. She rose smoothly, letting him guide her, letting him think the momentum was his.
"You know what I think?" He didn't let go of her hand. Instead, he placed it flat against his chest, holding it there. "I think you've been wasted. A woman with your body, your looks, your... skills fetching water and scrubbing floors for a baron's son." He shook his head slowly, his free hand settling on her waist. "It's criminal."
"You flatter me, Damien." She said his name the way he'd told her to soft, intimate, like it was a secret between them.
"I'm not flattering you. I'm stating a fact." His grip on her waist tightened. "The Webbs don't appreciate what they have. They never have. That bloodline of theirs all that potential, and they waste it on border patrol and maid service." His thumb traced the curve of her hip through her uniform. "Arthur especially. The boy walks around this academy like he matters, but we both know the truth."
"And what's the truth?"
Damien leaned down, his lips brushing her ear.
"That the Webbs are a dying house. And everything worth taking from them will be taken." His breath was warm against her neck. "Starting with you."
He kissed her.