Prologue

Lucien's penthouse was full of people, vampires and their human blood bags. There was music and plenty of very expensive alcohol. Champagne, scotch, bourbon, brandy, Lucien had spared no expenses. This was after all the first party he threw in New Orleans and he wanted to get to know the local vampires. Most of his guests were young and useless, but he had always enjoyed a good party. And he most definitely enjoyed being the center of attention.

His guests seemed to be having a good time. Lucien took a sip out of his glass and smiled while observing few dancing couples. He couldn't help but wonder if his butterfly would like to dance. She had been moody ever since they had arrived to New Orleans. Perhaps he should see if she was still pouting at him. She certainly knew how to be difficult. He headed to the part of the penthouse that was off limit from everyone except him. As always, the door to her room was locked and sealed with magic.

It was all for her own protection. He would never let anyone to touch his sweet butterfly. He was the only one who had the key and he knocked before unlocking the door. Her room would have fit for a royalty; the decoration had cost a fortune. It made no difference; his butterfly deserved only the best. Luxurious canopy covered bed with floral print bed line, two bed side lamp, decorative mirror dressing table, a bookshelf, two comfortable armchairs, a huge bathroom with a bathtub and a walk-in-closet.

"Darling?" he called while entering the room.

He didn't get any reply. Apparently she was still pouting. Quickly his eyes scanned the room; she was standing in front of the window behind the long light curtains. He saw that she was barefoot and she was wearing a short white dress. Her copper curls were everywhere as usual, falling down along her shoulders.

"Darling?"

She didn't move or say anything; she simply stared out at the night.

"Still pouting, are we?" he stated and noticed the untouched dinner on the table. "Alright, how can I make this better?"

"You can't," she replied icily.

He smiled and slowly walked over to her. At least she was speaking to him.

"I'm sure I can. What does my butterfly want?"

She clenched her fists and turned angrily to look at him.

"Stop it," she snapped. "We both know you don't care what I want. We wouldn't have come here if you would care."

"Darling…" he started and tried to touch her face, but she slapped his hand. He frowned, not many people could slap him and live. "Careful," he warned.

She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"I'm not your pet, Lucien," she snapped. "You can't just drag me anywhere you please and expect me to accept it."

"That's a little overdramatic, don't you think? Have I not always taken a good care of you?"

"That's because you want something from me," she replied coolly.

Lucien couldn't really deny that. He did want more than one thing from her. He had wanted her from the moment he had first seen her. In that moment he had known that she belonged to him. Only to him. She sighed tiredly and looked into his eyes.

"A gilded cage is still a cage."

"I have done everything I can to protect you," he replied. "I think we both know you need my protection." He paused and touched her cheek, this time she didn't stop him. "And I think we both know how important you are to me."

She bit her bottom lip when he caressed her neck with his thumb.

"I need to solve things with my sire," he said. "And I need to know that I have you by my side. Do I?"

She sighed and nodded.

"You do, but don't think that I would have forgiven you."

He grinned and touched her hair.

"Let's see if I can find a way to earn your forgiveness."

A flush was rising in her cheeks when he gently touched her breast through her dress. He loved it that he was still able to make her react like that. She was the only woman who had meant anything to him after he had become a vampire. He had been called cruel, vicious and sadistic, and he was all of those things and more, but there was one tiny soft spot in his dead heart. Her. His precious little butterfly.