It takes every part of me not to race to her side, pull her out of Sintar’s lap, and ferry her out of this castle.
Lucien smiles at his champion across the long table. She looks up at him, and he gives her a nod and raises his glass to her.
“Take your right as victor,” he proclaims. “Well done, Sintar.”
The human woman closes her eyes, holding herself still. Blood drips from her chin, still leaking from the twin cuts on her face.
And there’s another glimpse from my foresight vision—blood dripping down a neck.
I watch in horrified paralysis as Sintar lifts the woman’s wounded hand and laps up the trail of blood in one long lick.
“Enjoy your meal,” Lucien says to me then, his deep blue eyes locking on mine in a challenge. He bends his head toward the gorgeous woman in his own lap.
And then sinks his fangs into her neck.
34
MERYN
I can’t look away. Alongside my instinctive horror is a brutal, morbid curiosity. The woman’s head tilts back. She sighs with apparent pleasure, her expression transforming into ecstasy as Lucien drinks deeply, his amused gaze still on mine.
Around the table, the other Siphons similarly begin to feed from the humans who have joined them, treating the activity as casually as we might regard cutting into a steak.
Sintar brings her head up after feasting at her human’s neck. She runs her fingers across the woman’s bloody cheek, then lazily licks each finger. The human is now languid, sprawling across Sintar’s lap.
The fate we thought we were saving her from, playing out in a far more demeaning and public way.
It’s not surprising, theoretically—of course we know they drink blood.
And Elias did claim, on the road, that many humans are… willing participants. Even the woman from the town technically consented to this over other punishment.
Still, my cheeks grow hot with anger and dismay.
Something about this is sorude.
My friends agree. Stark’s chair screeches only slightly, like he was about to get up and act but just barely managed to stop himself, remembering our mission here. Venna’s hand moves to where her weapon is concealed, though her face remains carefully neutral.
Noemi’s face has drained entirely of color. She stares at Lucien in hatred and revulsion. It’s obvious enough that the Siphon next to her is glaring at her.
I can’t blame her. The woman in Lucien’s lap sinks further and further into her euphoric surrender—so much so that she lets out a soft moan. It’s a lustful scene and disturbingly similar to watching King Cyril play with his “companion” on his lap.
The air grows warmer. The sounds of the feeding are… distractingly wet. And as the humans give in to whatever’s happening, they all start sighing or letting out small moans.
It’s hard to imagine that my sister may one day feed in the same way.
In fact, she and our father might be feeding the same way at this very moment. I suppress a shudder.
The woman on Lucien’s lap gasps lightly as he removes his fangs. He reaches up and presses the pad of his thumb to his lips, then drags it over his bloodied mouth, licking it lightly as if to avoid wasting a drop.
Then those blue eyes dart down to my untouched plate of food. “Not fond of your host’s offerings?”
He’s implyingI’mbeing rude, but he just sucked a woman’s throat in front of me for thirty seconds straight, so who’s he to talk?
“No,” I tell him coolly. “I don’t trust the food.”
Lucien chuckles. “Do you truly think I would have Elias bring you all this way just to poison you?”
He doesn’t wait for my response before reaching around the blissed-out woman in his lap and plucking a piece of meat from my plate. He reclines back in his chair and nudges the meat against the woman’s lips, who parts them and bites down.
