“You think that was agift?”
Rorrik’s eyes are cold and feral. “She almost killed you and your friend. Show some fucking gratitude.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Don’t pretend like you did me a favor. Youlovekilling. That little scene was probably the most fun you’ve had in days. And I know you enjoyed throwing me around on the sand.”
Menace radiates from the vampire. Rorrik was playing with me in the arena, but all I see now is his potential for instant, lethal violence. Behind me, the gate is suddenly empty of both guards and healers. I can’t blame them for making themselves scarce.
A predatory gleam lights Rorrik’s eyes. “Is that why you made me beg?”
“I made you beg because you’re the emperor’s son. And seeing you on your knees might give one person in this empire a glimmer of hope.”
It’s not entirely true. But the thought is one I enjoy.
He gives me a knowing look. Iloathehow easily he can get into my mind. How he seems to know my thoughts before I think them.
Shaking my head, I move toward the gate, but his hand whips out and catches mine, his long fingers stroking the sensitive skin along my wrist. I barely contain a shiver. “What do you want, Rorrik?”
His icy eyes fix on something over my shoulder. “The silver blade was unnecessary, brother.”
Relief makes my heart flutter, and Rorrik curls his lip at me, releasing my hand. I back away, toward Tiernon.
I don’t know why I would expect any humanity from Rorrik. This is the same man who was brutally murdering someone the first time I saw him.
Tiernon pulls me into his chest, and I slump into him, basking in the feel of his strong arms around me. When I look up again, Rorrik is gone.
“Nice throw.” It took an incredible amount of precision for him to hit Rorrik from the pulvinar.
“Are you hurt?” Tiernon trembles, his eyes glittering with rage.
My entire body aches, and my head throbs with each heartbeat. “Yeah,” I admit. “Baldric did some damage before Rorrik threw me around.”
“Healers or my blood?”
I sigh. “Your blood.”
Surprise flashes through his eyes and I attempt a smile. “I have a concussion. And the healers will take too long. I want to see Maeva.”
He uses his fangs to rip through the skin of his wrist, holding it out to me. I lower my head to take what he’s offering, and his blood spreads warmth through my body, as comforting as a warm blanket on a cold night.
The absence of pain is almost shocking. My vision is no longer blurred, and I can suddenly think properly. I force myself to push his arm away, ignoring my urge to continue drinking.
“Thank you.”
With a nod, Tiernon leads me toward the healers.
I swallow. “Are you … angry?”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “I’m beyond angry. Did you even think before you jumped in there?”
“Yes.”
“And you did it anyway?”
I don’t reply, refusing to defend myself for something I will never regret. Fresh rage combines with useless frustration, sweeping through every inch of my body, until my hands are shaking with it.
Tiernon sighs. “This is what my brother wants. He knew what seeing him taking your blood would do to me.”
“Rorrik called me a tool he’s using to hurt you.”
