A torrent of cum fills me, forced in deep, pushed into my womb and with the necessity of a man looking to breed me. Vallan typically pulls out and showers me with his cum, and I love it, but this is different. He can’t hold back—neither of us can—and we lose ourselves together.
His typical grunt is raspy and lustful. My moan is loud and high, stealing the crown from Aelin in the other room. I swear I hear a sound coming from a different part of the castle, perhaps upstairs, or near my room down the hall, and I wonder ifeveryoneis fucking right now. If Skar has his bloodthrall by the throat and is forcing Garroway to suck his massive cock in preparation for the two of them taking me when I least expect it.
It’s the release I need, and Vallan gives it to me. After the night I’ve had, I don’t want to think about Skar or Lukain and, as an extension of my nobleblood mate, Garroway. Vallan is perfect to suit my needs.
When he pulls out of me, my cunt breathes and spills his cum onto the floor. It’s a waterfall of our combined arousal, drenching the area at our feet with a soft splash.
I laugh in quiet hysterics at the sight of his length hanging spent and flaccid between his strong, muscled thighs. My body trembles and twitches from another orgasm on the horizon.
I yank on Vallan’s beard when he sets my feet down at last. “Are you trying to pump a baby into me, Vallan Stellos? Because you know I have far too much to do for that. We have a revolution to win.”
His lips curl in a wicked smirk behind his beard—a rare sight for the stoic vampire. “Take me to your room and you’ll see.”
“My room?” I gesture at the dark, shapeless storage room before moving past him toward my nightgown on the ground. I bend to pick it up. “We have a perfectly goodahh!”
Vallan slaps my ass with a loud ring, and I bolt upright.
His bulky arm wraps around my middle and he picks me up, hauling me away over his shoulder toward the door. “We need a bed for what I plan to do to you before this night is through, silverblood.”
Vallan is already hard again when we reach my room. He’s ready to defile and debase me some more, and I can’t wait for it. I can’t keep my hands off him. They linger inches from his body at all times, drifting over his bulging muscles, playing with his bulging cock, teasing and commanding him.
A wicked smile rips across my face as I push the door of my room open with my shoulder, my back facing the door as I haul him toward me to crash our bodies together.
Then Vallan goes rigid in the doorway. His body perks up to its full imposing height, his daring smirk faltering.
“Vall?” I croak, a knot forming between my brows.
Vallan roars and spins me in his arms,shovingme out the doorway and into the hall. I yelp from the abrupt shift in energy—
Just in time to hear ahissand see an arrow plant into my mate’s shoulder from point-blank range.
I stumble onto my ass while Vallan stumbles back with a pained growl. He flares his nostrils, reversing his backward momentum to charge into the room.
I swiftly hop to my feet, all thoughts of lust and need thrown aside as preservation and survival instinct take over. Having brought my sword belt with me to investigate the sounds earlier, I hold my blade in my hand and rip it from its sheath.
Crashing and clattering from the room ruin the sensual silence of the castle. I swing to the side as I push into the room.
Vallan has his hands on a man’s throat. It’s a pale throat. A vampire’s throat, not a human’s. The dark-clad, smaller man’s legs kick off the ground. A second arrow wobbles in Vallan’s leg. The men are locked in a struggle in the corner of the dark room.
A breeze wafts across my face as I make ready to charge into the fray—
And screech to a halt.There shouldn’t be a breeze in here.
My eyes snap over to the window across the way.
Open. Curtain fluttering.
A silhouette takes form in the window, drawing another arrow.
“Vallan!” I scream, knowing there’s no way I can get to the assassin before he lets off his shot into the back of Vall’s skull from ten feet away.
The arrow hisses, the taut bowstring snapping—
The whistling arrow vanishes in the air, consumed by pitch blackness before it can reach Vallan. It’s Vallan’s shadow, come to life, eating up the arrow.
The assassin crouched on the windowsill looks confused, his pale face twisting. From that shadow erupts a crouched form streaking across the room in a blur, closing the gap.
The assassin at the window gasps at the sudden sight and tries to fall backward out of the aperture—