Our tongues battle for dominion, and a pleasurable shiver runs down my spine as mine glides against his, tasting him, probing relentlessly and discovering, to my delight, a cool metal sphere peeking from both sides of his tongue. He has a Godsdamn piercing! Can this male get any racier than this? Scratch that. I’m not sure I want to find out. He most probably can.
He sucks on my bottom lip, his fangs grazing slightly on the skin, and I moan desperately, abandoning all stoicism. The surrounding temperature has risen to molten lava levels, and I’m not even sure if it’s because of the sweltering water, or because of our bodies gripping each other, as if we’re trying to merge ourselves into one. He grabs the back of my neck, and I steady myself, holding onto his broad shoulders, as I move to circle his hips with my legs. Nothing around us exists anymore, only the feel of his tongue and teeth, his fingers gripping firmly the wet locks of my hair, his pelvis pushing forcefully against mine, his hardening cock like a beacon between us.
His shadows fill in the cracks between us, probing, pushing, tugging at my clothes relentlessly.
I glide up and down his covered length, whining profusely, in need of more. I’ve never felt more unhinged than at this moment. My only wish is to dissolve in this mind-boggling sensation, to forgo all the agonizing worries, and just give in to him, consequences be damned.
“Anything you’ll ever want, I’ll make sure to rip to shreds in front of you, filth. You are nothing and deserve nothing!”My sister’s maniacal, diabolical laugh rings in my head, drenchingmy senses in ice-cold sludge. I rip my mouth suddenly from his, pushing myself as far away from his frame as I can. His chest is rising and falling unevenly, and he tries to close the distance between us.
“No. This should never have happened,” I say, deepening my resolve and pushing him away.
“Aimee, don’t…” his hands fall helplessly at his sides as he regards me with his smoldering gaze.
“Don’t Aimee me. Just don’t.” I shake my head vigorously, dispelling the last vestiges of lust still clinging in the air between us.
He takes a step back, finally catching on to the change in the atmosphere.
“What do you need from me?” he asks in a voice meant not to spook a frightened animal.
“I need answers, Killian. Answers about what just happened in that blasted hallway. What was thatthing? What the hell is going on?”
He bows his head in acceptance. “Finish washing up all the blood away. I will change into a dry set of clothes and wait for you outside. I will explain it all,” he says before evaporating into nothing before my eyes.
I take forever, yet not enough time, to wash all the blood and the gore from my skin. I’ve wiped my whole body in a frenzy until my skin feels raw, conveying a pinker hue than my normal tanned shade. The ache in my shoulders has lessened, and I count my blessings that I got away from that altercation unscathed, at least physically. But what is a little bit moretrauma, on top of the already massive emotional baggage I drag around through life?
Sometime during my shower, Nella knocked on the bathroom door and entered just to leave me a set of clean clothes, instructed most probably by Killian. She left without saying a word, and I’m thankful for the petite human’s knack of sensing my moods, and acting in consequence.
I take on the simple white cotton nightgown and the cream velvety robe, weaving my damp hair in a messy side braid.
I take one last deep inhale to steady my nerves before I enter my bedroom, barefoot.
Killian is sitting leisurely on the edge of my bed, all cleaned up and gorgeous. He changed into a fresh pair of trousers and a loose black shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, freeing his muscled, veiny forearms for me to gawk at indiscreetly.
His wet hair is slicked back from his face, with only a few unruly strands curling slightly around his temples. He stands up from the bed, gauging me in that mindful way of his, assessing what’s the best way to engage.
I swallow the lump forming in my throat and move to sit on the carpet, next to the roaring heat of the fireplace. He approaches, treading carefully, and sits down in front of me, cross-legged. I bring my knees near my chest, circling my arms around my calves in a protective manner. I want to have this conversation, but I am not open to a repeat of what happened earlier in the shower. No matter how much my body might yearn for his touch.
He points towards the low wooden table near us, where a silver tray sits, with several bottles of wine, a crystal carafe of water, a steaming teapot and a decanter of what I presume is blood.
“The strongest wine, please.” I need to numb myself just a tad, not enough to cloud my judgment, but just the necessary amount to get me through the night.
He fills a glass for me. The gurgling sound of the liquid and the crackling fire resonate in the stifling silence between us. I take it absent-mindedly and take slow sips, watching as he mixes blood and wine in a black goblet for himself.
“Right,” he says in a soft voice, drumming his fingers nervously on his bent knee, “I’m not even sure where to start.”
“Start at the beginning, Killian,” I say, wincing at the harsh tone of my voice. “Who or what was that creature? He seemed one of your kind, yet different somehow.”
He nods, seeming to gather his thoughts.
“That was Vladymyr. He used to be a vampire. A friend even.” My eyes widen at his admission, but I urge him to continue. “He used to be a vampire in my court, one of Blaise’s spy-soldiers. One of the best, if I’m being honest. We knew him for four hundred years. Fought together, celebrated together. There was a time I would have trusted him with my life, so to speak, just as much as I trust Blaise.”
“What happened?” I ask, my voice above a whisper. I see the corners of his eyes crinkling downwards with sorrow. He didn’t kill just any prisoner in order to save me. He killed a friend turned foe.
“My kingdom is under a terrible scourge, Aimee. We keep it hidden from the Faes, because we don’t quite trust the peace treaty. I can’t risk them knowing that we are at war with our kind, lest they take advantage of the situation to attack us as well. We are at our weakest.”
“You have my word that I will keep your secret. Who would I tell anyway?” I attempt a weak joke, and wince when he doesn’t even pretend to smile.
“Around seven years ago, something shifted in the far North. Vampires started disappearing from villages near the end of the continent. At first, the vanishings were few and far between, so we presumed they were just coincidences. Vampires leaving their partners or picking up and leaving without telling others. It was not necessarily unheard of.”
