“That’s it.” His thumb kept up its sweeping movements. “Focus on me.”
Gone was the jovial prince excited to ride a dragon, and in his place was a man determined to help her remain calm. Isvana help her, but he did exactly that.
Marius murmured in her ear, pressing soft kisses to her cheek and forehead as he held her. His warmth enveloped her until cold was a distant memory. She couldn’t ignore him now, even if she wanted to.
Vivienne tried to force herself to put space between them because she was duty-bound to protect him, but she couldn’t. She searched within herself for those boundaries, but they’d vanished. She tried to push her feelings away, but it wasn’t working.
And maybe…
Maybe that was okay. Maybe she should stop trying to make herself feel nothing for this prince who kissed her like she was the air she needed to breathe. It was like asking her not to need blood.
As Vivienne sat on the dragon, she came to the most frightening realization of her life. She was falling for the prince. It never should’ve happened… but she was already careening down the path.
With every passing moment, every flap of the dragon’s wings, every quiet word Marius murmured in her ear, and every rub of his thumb, she fell harder for him.
By the time Vivienne opened her eyes and took in the shimmering stars, the glowing moonlight, and the wispy clouds spreading out on either side of them, she knew she was completely ruined.
Even if they found the obsidian dagger, killed the First, and completed their mission, she’d never be able to move on. Not after this.
For all his infuriating attributes, Vivienne had never met anyone more intriguing than Prince Marius Wisethorn.
That scared her even more than the fire-breathing beast on which they sat.
Nectar of the Gods
Shadows curled around Therese’s limbs like lovers as she pulled long draws of blood from the limp woman strewn across her lap. Every drop tasted like the nectar of the gods, and she moaned. Ithiar help her, but she would never get enough of this.
The woman had stopped crying several minutes ago, and her soft mewls of pain had ceased not long after that.
Therese drank until the body was drained of blood, and then she pulled her fangs from the woman’s neck. She dumped the human on the ground, where it joined the four others she’d killed earlier that evening.
Licking her fangs, Therese grinned.
Death tasted as delicious as it had the first night of her Making, thousands of years ago. She’d never tire of drinking from humans, never grow weary of hearing her victims scream.
Fear made the blood taste better.
This had been a good night, and even though the gnawing hunger remained in her stomach, Therese felt more like herself than ever.
That was good.
Her destination was drawing near.
Days had passed since she first learned of the imposter royals. She’d spent that time hunting, feeding, and developing a plan.
She’d begun interrogating the humans before killing them, seeking information about the so-called king and queen. The mortals were surprisingly talkative once she demonstrated how painful she could make their impending deaths.
None of them escaped her—she was far too hungry to waste good food, but she was merciful. If they gave her information, she drained them quickly.
Now, thanks to those humans, Therese knew everything there was to know about the royals. The pair was Bound, and they had taken the throne less than two decades ago.
All the humans said the king was a dangerous male. Black-hearted, he only cared for his wife. A love of the ages, some declared. A marriage destined by the goddess of the moon herself, one had claimed. A good change of power, a man had said in a shaking voice last night as a wet stain spread across his pants right before Therese sank her fangs into his neck.
The king was feared by all, but the queen…
The stories they told about her were different. The people spoke about her reverently. As if they cared about her. As if theylikedher.
Strange. Therese had never seen anything like it.