I still secretly craved Barbie’s blood, and I tried hard not to stare at the veins in her neck with longing. Killian and she wouldn’t understand, let alone appreciate it. They had no clue what her blood had done to me once I’d had a taste. Everyone else’s blood paled in comparison; it was like contrasting the finest wine with dirty water.
A small comfort was that neither Rowan nor Killian had claimed the High King’s throne, even though they had every right. The five of us had vowed to remain equals, to be brothers for as long as we reigned.
Other than that, the entire realm was holding its breath, waiting to see which of them would be the first to get knocked up—Sy, the last drop of the old magic, or Barbie, the only goddess roaming the Earth. But they both insisted they had no plans for kids anytime soon, declaring to the dismay of every royal court that they wouldn’t even consider it for another century. For now, the girls just wanted to have all the fun they could get, to make up for the terrible childhood they had suffered at the cruel hands of the void god.
The realm had changed after the war. The balance of power had shifted. Mist of Cinder now brimmed with magic, the very air humming with it. As a result, the house magics had gone wild. They could now cross the boundaries of their own houses, and they often visited other house magics to throw raucous parties. And they were all horrible gossips!
Even the magics had a life, while I sat here feeling like yesterday’s leftovers.
So when the invitation from the Titan princess and her demigods finally arrived, I grabbed my travel bag and headed for the door. It was time to write my own story instead of watching everyone else live theirs.
Fuck all the regrets.
Fuck the vampire court and my sire.
And fuck the stock market and inflation for eating away my profits.
Chapter
Forty-One
Barbie
“So wet for me,” Killian purred, his fingers possessively parting my folds. “And I’ve barely started.”
Stars spun as the leyline carried us home.
“I’ve been wet since you woke me up duringThe Marriage of Figaro,” I admitted, grinding against his hand.
“Who cares about the marriage of Figaro, baby,” he murmured, his fingers circling my clit in slow, maddening strokes that had me whimpering.
“But you took me to see that opera in Italy,” I managed. “Figaro and Susanna might be servants, but they deserve love too. Sex is for everyone, no matter their class, race, age, or bad looks. I get it.”
Killian chuckled. “I don’t think you do. You were asleep halfway through. I wouldn’t have woken you if you were just drooling on my chest, but your snoring started drawing attention away from Figaro’s confession of love, and that guy was loud.”
My face flamed. That hadn’t been my finest moment, especially when Killian was making an effort to take me on a proper date. He felt he hadn’t courted me properly and wanted to make up for it. More than that, he wanted to show his dragon how to truly woo a woman. Apparently, Tyson’s idea of romance involved bringing his mate charred meat roasted by dragon fire and taking her on aerial tours.
“There’s a whole world beyond hunting and flying,” he lectured his dragon.
He also wanted to remind himself and me that no matter what came next, we shouldn’t forget to actually live our lives. Hence the opera in Venice.
“I just didn’t understand a single word they sang,” I said defensively.
“You weren’t supposed to understand them, baby. It’s Italian opera,” he replied.
I blinked at him. “Then how was I supposed to enjoy the show?”
He chuckled, having gotten far more out of the date than I had, no doubt remembering the havoc we had wreaked in that opera house.
As soon as he had woken me, an overwhelming lust for him had crashed over me. I couldn’t help it, and man, I’d tried—I’d squeezed my thighs together, which only made it worse.
His dragon had sniffed my scent and roared its approval, and things went to shit from there. Not for us, but for the rest of the audience and the performers. Our lust infused the air like a potent aphrodisiac. Everyone breathed it in, their own desires amplifying tenfold with every gasp.
When a goddess and a demigod dragon got horny among them, the humans didn’t stand a chance. Before they knew what had hit them, their skin became hypersensitive, their hearts raced, and their sexes throbbed with an uncontrollableache. So when Figaro dragged Susanna down to the floor and mountedher, the audience was already lost. Hands groped where they shouldn’t, and worse—the entire opera house descended into a temple of orgies.
Killian and I didn’t stay to witness the full extent of the scandal, having left early to take care of our own urgent needs.
We’d hurried back through the leyline, unable to keep our hands off each other. His skilled fingers worked between my thighs, savoring my wetness, and brought me to the edge of release before we even portaled home.
