At the far end, an older couple whispered across the table, their eyes sparkling with mischief. I half-expected a snide remark about my hair or magic.
Well, if they wanted entertainment, they were about to get it.
The advisors maintained their stony expressions, but their eyes followed my every movement. I’d bet anything they were counting the seconds until I bolted from the room like a frightened rabbit.
They were waiting for me to fail. Every single one of them.
I knew that look. I’d seen it in the eyes of my witch instructors when I’d focused on joy magic instead of the more practical arts they’d pushed. I’d seen it when I chose to make lanterns that captured happiness rather than learning battle enchantments. And I’d proved them wrong, hadn’t I? I’d succeeded when they’d all assumed I’d fail.
The small part of me that wanted to run dissolved, and defiance sparked through me.
I straightened my spine, squaring my shoulders beneath the cream silk of my gown. If there was one thing I wouldn’t do, it was give them the satisfaction of seeing me cower.
Instead of offering my wrist again as Kieran expected, I deliberately tilted my head, sweeping my hair aside and exposing the curve of my neck in one smooth motion.
Gasps rang out in the room again. The older woman dropped her goblet, splattering blood across the pristine tablecloth. A younger vampire at the end choked on his drink, blood sputtering from his mouth. Even the servants widened their eyes.
Shock flashed across Kieran’s normally controlled features, quickly replaced by a heat that made my skin prickle.
Offering the neck rather than the wrist was apparently a big deal in vampire culture. Good. Let them all see I wasn’t some quivering mouse they could frighten away with their judgmental stares and formal coldness.
“Cyrene,” Kieran’s voice dropped to a rough whisper, my name sounding different in his mouth than it ever had before. “You don’t need to?—”
“You said it’s required.” I kept my voice steady despite the flutter in my chest. “Please. Feel welcome to dine.”
He hesitated, caught off guard. Then something shifted in his gaze, flames building, darkening his pale blue eyes to sapphire. The muscles in his jaw tensed. Slowly, carefully, he cupped the back of my neck, his touch cool on my flushed skin, his long fingers threading through the hair at my nape.
“Very well,” he said, the words vibrating across my skin as he leaned closer.
I caught the scent of him, clean winter air and something spicier, like cinnamon and clove but sharper, more dangerous. His lips brushed my throat, softer than I expected, sending a shiver across my skin. My heart surged against my ribs, pounding so loudly I was sure everyone at the table could hear it. Then came the gentlest pressure of fangs, barely a pinch.
Since this was my neck, I’d prepared myself for discomfort, maybe even pain. I’d girded my pride and resolved to endure whatever was necessary to maintain dignity in this court that clearly anticipated my failure.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the wave of pleasure that washed through me, radiating outward from where his mouth met my skin, spreading like honey warmed in the sun. My mind went blank, my awareness narrowing to the feel of him. His hand at mynape. His lips against my throat. The gentle pull as he took what he needed.
I tried not to squeak while tiny sparks of magic danced along my fingertips.
I curled my fingers around the edge of the table, gripping as my other hand found his sleeve, holding on as if I was going to float away if he didn’t ground me. The room receded, the judgmental stares and whispers fading to nothing. There was only this moment, this connection with the man I’d married.
A spark of golden light flared between my fingers and the edge of the table. My joy magic, like a mischievous child, had slipped free. I hoped no one else noticed, but I knew Kieran did. The corner of his mouth twitched.
The intimacy between us struck me like lightning. This wasn’t just feeding. This wasn’t just a formal requirement. This was something else entirely, something that made my magic stir beneath my skin, tiny golden sparks dancing along my fingertips, little motes of light that I prayed no one would notice.
Through half-lidded eyes, I caught a glimpse of Lady Cordelia hovering near the ceiling, watching with curiosity, her translucent form shimmering in the morning light streaming through the high windows. She drifted closer, and I sensed she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
This is most unusual. Her voice ghosted through my mind, though her lips didn’t move.I haven’t seen a king take from the neck in public since… Well, ever. Not with a willing bride.
If I could form words, I would’ve told her to be quiet. As it was, I could barely remember how to breathe.
When Kieran finally leaned away, his eyes had darkened to midnight, and his pupils were blown wide, the blue a thin ring around bottomless black. A single drop of blood—myblood—clung to his lower lip. His tongue darted out to catch it, and something hot and forbidden twisted in my belly at the sight.
“Thank you,” he said, his words hushed. The heat in his gaze made my skin boil from the inside out, as if my blood had caught fire.
“You’re welcome.” I turned to my plate, hoping the flush spreading across my cheeks could be explained by the feeding rather than my body’s embarrassing response to a man I was supposed to keep at arm's length.
Breakfast. Focus on breakfast.I lifted my fork and stabbed my eggs, telling my heart to stop racing and my magic to settle back into its usual quiet hum.
The silence lasted another beat, then two, the moment stretching until I thought I might scream just to break it.
