No fucking way!
My anxiety bubbles to the surface, needles of hysteria prickling my scalp, and I shake my head fervently before I bolt out the door.
I don’t stop until I barricade myself inside my chamber, my thundering pulse wreaking havoc inside me.
I feel every ounce of pleasure Shadow Killian is wringing out of my double’s immaterial body, and it’s both the best and the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.
Killian’s one-word question lingers in the forefront of my mind, and I can’t help but wonder what insurmountable line we would have crossed if I’d stayed.
This entire ordeal between us has just become infinitely harder.
Chapter 5
Blaise
Repeatedslapsagainstmycheeks pull me out of the drug-induced nap I was in. I groan and squint my eyes as several facts hit me at once.
The pretty—not so harmless after all—pixie female overpowered and drugged me.
I am heavily chained to a wooden chair in the middle of what looks like a deserted barn.
Said pixie is standing in front of me, an icy glint in her bewitching eyes. She has changed her clothing to a leather combat one-piece suit that clings to her curves in all the right places, and of course my dick stands to painful attention, because why wouldn’t it? Not the time or the place, but tell that to my stupid libido.
“Atta, pretty boy. You sure like your beauty sleep,” she mocks in a haughty rasp.
I grunt as I try to wrestle free of the sturdy chains keeping me in place, but it’s no use. They must be made of iron, for how feeble they make me feel.
“What the fuck, Sariah,” I say before I realize my rookie mistake.
“See, that right there is a problem, pretty boy. You know who I am, while I have no fucking clue who you are or why you were pursuing me in the dead of night. Your stalking skills leave much to be desired, by the way.”
I rapidly scan the area for an exit strategy from the Fae-sized pickle I’m in. The space is shrouded in darkness, the only source of light being a window high above the decrepit doors. The hay scattered on the ground, and the faint smell of manure have me guessing that this place used to be a stable at some point, but it’s completely empty now.
“Don’t even think about it, vampire. Even if you manage to get out of those iron chains, you’d need to get through us and the dozen fighters stationed outside.”
A voice floats from the darkness as a fair-haired male steps out from the shadows and joins Sariah in front of me.
I clench my teeth at the sight of him.
A lover, perhaps?
No, his pale appearance and sea-colored eyes are too similar to Sariah’s. The resemblance is clear.
“And who the hell might you be?”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he answers mockingly, giving my not-so-subtle erection a pointed look. “Or, in this case, share. Names, that is.”
I sigh, exasperated. This is going nowhere. Might as well get out of it with the truth.
“I’m Blaise Mortenghail, the—”
“The Vampire King’s famed second-in-command? The spy and warrior extraordinaire?” Sariah interrupts me with a disbelieving laugh. “This is quite anticlimactic, I must say,” she continues before erupting in a fit of giggles, the sound both charming and aggravating at the same time. “You suck at being a spy.”
“Hey!” I interject in my defense. “This is my first screw-up, if you must know.”
“Second, if we count when you kidnapped the wrong twin,” she answers with a knowing smirk. “Soren, untie him.”
“Are you sure?” the male asks at the same time as I say, “Wait, you know about that?”
