Page 130 of Blood of the Fairest

"She doesn't mean it like that," Eris muses, squinting at me. "She must be plotting something else."

With a grin, I move to the queen’s writing desk. After all, these masquerade outfits won't design themselves.

31

Wulf

I stand wearing a cloak a short distance from Verena. She is veiled beneath her crown, chatting happily with Princess Snow White.

We wait at the foot of the largest hill north of Isenhold, whereupon Isenmere Castle rises high. A slow dawn breaks over the eastern mountains, setting aglow the early morning mists drifting across the spring-kissed landscape below.

Three large carriages are nearly prepared to carry us to Aurefeld. I offered my witch stone to Verena to greatly shorten this trip, but she did not want the princess or the others traveling alone, even with the Isenmerian guards and knights escorting them.

She has also made many valuable masquerade dresses to transport, which would be difficult to do through shrine passage.

It will take three and a half days to reach Aurefeld by coach. I loathe long carriage rides and much prefer traveling through shrines, or on horseback.

But although I have a steed prepared for this trip, I intend to first join Verena in the queen's coach.

So we can be in close quarters. Alone.

Whatever interest she has in my body, I doubt it is as ferocious as my constant want for her.

Still, I am determined to show her how safe and comfortable she can be in this world. I will prove that I can fill any desire she has, if she stays.

Not merely because of my pledge, but because she is my vantaði.

Verena laughs at something the princess says, again lifting her veil to wipe at her forehead. My gaze follows the motion before dropping to the dark gown fortunate enough to cling to her lithe body.

I am accustomed to the great cold of Nordhjem, and the princess is wrapped in a wool cloak to fend off the chill left by the dying night, but Verena is clearly overheated.

Feverish.

"She needs blood," Eris murmurs.

As usual, he appears in the reflection of the axe hanging near my hip. We are just far away enough that Verena will not overhear.

"She will have mine, after I fulfill her other needs."

He already knows the nature of my determination. After all, it is he who told me she has covered all reflections in the queen's room once or twice in the last week to pleasure herself in private. Yet she continues to mention metaphorically ovulating, which Eris thinks must be an otherworldly term for great arousal.

We're in agreement that Verena's arousal must be satisfied.

If she'll allow me.

Matron on high, please let her allow me.

"Lucky bastard," Eris grumbles at me.

"To watch is lucky enough."

"True, and I'll take what I can get for now," he sighs before becoming insistent. "Anyway, spiking the queen's enchanted wine with your blood isn't a true solution. Especially not if we want her to stay here permanently. Verena far underplays how much thirst torments her. She should be feeding far more often, and from more people."

More people?

I frown at the thought of her fangs sinking into someone unworthy of her. What if while feeding, her erotic bite becomes too much and they harm her in their lust-clouded state?

Beastly as my desire for her may be, at least I would sooner die than harm her again.