“You? No. Someone else. Not you.”
“I will provide what you need.” The King narrowed his eyes at me.
“Oh, for fuck's sake,” I muttered. “At least let me walk.” I winced when we made it to the sidewalk.
The King alone warranted a lot of attention, but the King carrying a bleeding Eljaffna man? No one could ignore that. The plus was that it made it easier to search the crowded streets for a fleeing Brujai. In five seconds, I determined he was gone. Then I cursed.
“You need blood!” the King snarled. “You will just have to get over your distaste for me and accept mine.”
“I'm not . . . that's not why I cursed.” I grimaced and waved at the people. “You should have gone after the murderer. He was right there. Now, we've lost him. Him and that weapon.”
The King scowled at me. “I wasn't about to leave you bleeding in an alley to chase down a criminal.”
“I'll be fine.”
“Yes, you will!” He jerked his chin upward at someone.
I looked up to see that we had reached the royal carriage. The motion was directed at Sir Vasren, who opened the door for us. The King deposited me on the back bench. Then he climbed in, sat beside me, and yanked open his shirt.
I stared at his neck like a child standing outside a sweet shop—utterly enchanted. Salivating. I knew that one taste of this man might make me an addict. Worse, it would bind us in ways the King wasn't aware of. That was yet another reason I couldn't risk a relationship with the King. If he discovered the secret my people had been hiding for generations, life would change for the Eljaffna. We might even die out. Immortal or not, we needed blood to live.
No. I couldn't do this. I turned away from him. It wasn't just me who I was risking. An entire race—
The King grabbed my shirt and yanked me against him. I yipped in surprise. His broad hand went to the back of my head and pressed my face against his neck. He held me there so tightly that my lips flattened and I felt his pulse through them. Groaning, I opened my mouth and bit down.
Explosions. Shivers. Burning hot desire. My body instantly thrummed with power and my tongue came alive with the primal, vibrant taste of the Dragon King. Savory and sweet. As addictive as I expected. I craved more even as I drank. The first swallow sent me into a place I had only scraped at before—a deep, dark hole of depravity and animal need. I didn't care about anything but my next sip. No, that's a lie. I also wanted fuck him. While drinking. I wanted it more than I'd wanted anything before.
Growling, I straddled the King's lap and latched onto his shoulders. I felt him groan, but it barely registered. I was too busy lapping up liquid magic. Sparkling life. Tingling pleasure. There was so much to taste and feel. My cock was full. I ground it against him. The only thing that would make this better was sex. But I'd have to stop sucking at him to get my pants off. And I was never going to stop. Couldn't. It was too good.
Too much.
Too much!
And yet I couldn't pull away. The King's grip on my waist went slack. I knew I had to stop. I was taking too much blood. But I couldn't stop swallowing. Wouldn't.
Then I smelled it.
Something pungent. Irritating. It wrinkled my nose. Rotten eggs. Just the hint of it melded with that other odor. The sharp one. I had only smelled that combination once.
I jerked back, gasping. Teeth bared and lips bloody, I must have looked like a monster. But the King smirked at me. That victorious expression combined with the odor rising from my chest and snapped me out of my bloodlust.
“Rotten,” I whispered.
His smirk vanished. “What?”
I shoved back and landed on the floor of the carriage with a thud. The King reached for me, but I had taken too much blood and easily evaded him. This didn't concern me. Dragons are the fastest healers on Serai. He'd be fine. No, there was something more important than the Dragon King. Even more important than the touch of shame I felt at giving into my need for blood and pairing it with lust.
That smell! That's what broke my bloodlust. I grabbed my shirt and lifted it to my nose. There! Now that I had noticed it, it was sharper. Very distinctive.
“Stop the carriage!” I shouted.
“Tek.”
“Stop calling me that.” I flung the carriage door open and called once more to the driver. “I said, stop! Stop, this instant!”
The carriage came to a stop, and I burst out.
The King cursed and bolted after me, but stumbled as he left the carriage. I didn't stop to help him. I needed to pursuethis lead immediately. And frankly, I was done with making conciliations for my royal escort.
