67

                                    

                                          

BRAN 
Her tone told Bran to tread carefully, but then again Bran had never reacted well with being told what to do and that was probably why he stalked forward and gripped her, lifting her from the couch to her feet and planting his lips on hers, swallowing whatever she'd been about to say in a kiss. 
She opened her mouth and Bran almost sighed in relief at the welcoming action.
He'd thought that she was going to fight him, that she was going to push him away because of what happened, so he was pleasantly surprised that she was doing the opposite by letting him kiss her. 
But she wasn't kissing him back. 
Well, that wasn't an issue. He would coerce her into the kiss soon enough. 
He slid his tongue into her mouth, instantly searching for hers and instead, what he got had him groaning into her mouth, the sound more pain-filled than pleasure-filled. 
She brought her teeth down on his tongue. Hard. And he tasted his own blood from the cut. 
A slap had his lips disconnecting from hers and a hard shove sent him stumbling backwards a few steps. 
What the fuck? 
He stared at her in confusion, wondering why she'd gone from wanting him to wanting to murder him in two seconds flat, until he took a good look at her face and the lust clouding his head dulled into the background. He swallowed. 
She was angry. Extremely. 
"Who the hell do you think you are to come into my room without my permission and kiss me? Also, without my bloody permission."
He blinked, eyes darting to the side. 
What was going on here? 
"Bran, King of The Vam—"
"Oh, shut the hell up and get out." She snapped, then with a huff, dropped back on the couch and stared stonily out the window. "If you're not going to get out, please step back. You're standing in my personal space."
Bran was at a complete loss for words. 
Why was she suddenly so hostile towards him? Even more hostile than she'd been when they were back at his castle? 
He understood that she was angry at him, he'd been able to tell as much when he'd refused to remove her collar, but he'd thought that if he kissed her, showed her how much his body craved hers, she'd forget about it. 
She craved his touch. He was willing to give it to her. 
That was chivalry at its best. 
"What reason do you have to be angry at me?"
Her eyes flickered to him, her face contorting with anger and disbelief. "Are you fucking serious right now?" She shot up off the couch and poked him in the chest. "You think you can casually trace into my room after refusing to take the collar off? After treating me that way in front of everyone?"
So it was about the collar. He didn't understand why she was making it such a big deal. 
"Treating you that way in front of everyone?" He asked, incredulous. "You didn't seriously expect me to be happy about taking the collar off, did you?"
"Why wouldn't you be?"
His brows furrowed. "For the same reason the collar is around your neck in the first place. I don't want you to run away and I don't want you to kill any more people than you already have."
"I already told you that I don't kill on purpose and you believed me. Didn't you?" There was that small annoying half smile on her face again. "Or did you just pretend like you did so that I would let you have your way with me?"