My thoughts on the matter are a weaving journey through my mind, finally empowering me and building my confidence once I’ve worked it all out. It only takes a matter of seconds for the feelings to transpire, but it feels like eons that my mates are staring at me in silence.
Then Garroway, always the icebreaker in these tense moments, throws up his hands. “I can’t say I blame you, little honey badger. Shit. I can’t judge.”
While Vallan grunts, almost in a laugh but not quite, Skar scolds his bloodthrall. “Quiet, graybird.”
“No, no, it’s true, Master.” Garro steps away from the group, rubbing the back of his bald head. He comes up to me, faces them on my side, and pats me on the shoulder. “We all know my submissive ass would probably enjoy that hung little gnome just as much as Seph just did.” He winks and elbows me. “Judging by the despicably taxing sounds coming through this wall.”
I snort, trying to stay serious but unable to keep from a quick laugh. My cheeks heat up. “Little, Garro? You and I have different definitions of that descriptor, clearly.”
“Cheeky bitch. I saidhungfirst!” His voice lifts an octave as he finishes his complaint, tossing his hands even higher over his head.
My laugh is louder this time. I shield my lips with the back of my hand. My heated face is fully flushed now. There’s something infectious about my chuckling, because when I look over, Lukain is trying to hide a smile, Vallan has his cheeks puffed out, and even Skar is rolling his eyes. Which is much better than staringdaggers at me. I’ll take an eye-roll any day, because it shows progress in understanding my side of things.
It’s all thanks to Garroway, smoothing things over.
As everyone starts to talk all at once, I lean over to Garro and plant a kiss on his cheek. In his ear, I murmur, “For what it’s worth, love . . . yes, you would have enjoyed it immensely.”
He visibly shivers. “Don’t tell me such things! My ass can’t clench in anticipation any harder than it already is.”
Liolen’s airy voice rises above the rest, and they put their smooth hands out to stop the raucous conversation that’s just resumed. “Now that your fun with my little fae queen has concluded, shall we completeourbusiness?” They look at me with startling silver-red orbs, a small, roguish smile playing on their rouge-covered red lips. “Or was fucking my newest pet theclimaxof your reason for coming here?”
Even after their silly wordplay, I have to fight back a sharp retort.Calling Palacia theirpet? Their little fae queen?I want to defend her and tell Liolen Sesk that even though she decided to stay, Palacia isno one’spet.
It takes me a moment to realize I don’t have the authority to do that. Not anymore. I’ve released any sort of misguided ownership I felt I had over Palacia’s love and attention. The truth has just been nailed in stone—nailed inme, repeatedly, hard and deep and with utter ecstasy—and I was the one holding the hammer.
The truth? She’s notmine.Not like these men are.
Skar wanders past Liolen toward the throne room. “Call her what you will, Overliege, though let’s not lie to ourselves. There was only onepetI saw when we first walked into that room . . . and it wasn’t Palacia.”
I snicker, following the company into the throne room to conduct our business.At least that’s something me and my moody nobleblood can agree on.
We watch my blood trickle into the empty glass vial, the red essencedrip-drip-dripping.
It’s interesting my blood looks like everyone else’s, so ordinary, though it holds such amazing qualities. I don’t know where the Loreblood comes from other than a mix of ancient vampire blood and tainted commonblood.Who,I wonder,specifically causes my blood to be so unique?
Whatever the case, the five of us watch my blood drip until the vial is half full. Palacia left out a side door before we entered, likely to go clean herself up after our torrid session.
“That’s enough,” Skartovius growls, pulling my arm back like it’s his possession and not part of my damned body.
I’ve had my arm held over the wide table on which Palacia had me sprawled on my back just twenty minutes ago. Skar swiftly stems the bleeding from the small cut on my forearm and wraps a torn cloth tight around the wound. Garroway sheathes the small dagger he used to meticulously and carefully open my flesh—not before licking the blade clean of my blood in a show that makes me wrinkle my nostrils in disgust. He only smiled back.
My mates would not allow Liolen Sesk to drink directly from my veins. I didn’t fight them on it. Allow a dainty vampirex to fuck me senseless until I could hardly walk? Sure. They drew the line at Liolen sticking their fangs in my skin, however.
The overliege tops off the vial and sets it aside. They sit their throne, draping one leg femininely over their knee and grabbing their ankle in a way that opens up the center of their robe and exposes all their little bits that we just got done seeing spew all over the floor.
Annoyed, I avert my gaze and roll my eyes at my mates beside me. “I thought we were here to conduct business.”
“Are we not?” Liolen questions innocently.
“Your little clit-cock is out.”
Garroway starts to cackle and cuts himself off.
Liolen continues playing innocent, looking down at their body. “Oh dear, how clumsy of me.” Closing their robe, their haughty smirk disappears. “If that blood does nothing and I’ve been duped, I won’t stop coming for you until you’re dead, dear.”
“I’m sure,” I mutter. Their threats feel rather empty to me after what I’ve seen they’re packing. Call it shallow.
Can’t forget this gaudy vampirex is one of the most dangerous in the land,my mind warns me. I firm my lips. “The silver mines.”