Page 132 of Blood of the Fairest

Merrick glances up at me. "Please promise you shall protect her, Huntsman."

"With my life, always."

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Verena asks the chamberlain. "Just think of all the gorgeous outfits at the masquerade."

He smiles. "You shall regale me with their descriptions when you return. Alas, it is the job of a chamberlain to keep the castle running perfectly while its royals are away. And besides, someone must keep Ida from scaring all the servants away."

"True. I aspire to give as few fucks as she does one day."

With a final goodbye to the chamberlain, Verena and I walk to the queen's transport waiting with its two coach drivers and six horses. She accepts my hand for support as she gets in, removing her veil and crown at once.

The coach sways as I step up after her.

"Holy shit!" she yelps, gripping her seat. Then she laughs. "I guess these things weren't built for hunks of your caliber. Careful not to bump your head, Thor."

I don't know why she calls me that, but it does not matter when all I can think of is making my vantaði moan once more.

Just thinking of my fingers dripping with her desire as she trembles with release has me striving not to drool like the smitten lecher I'm becoming.

Pulling the door shut so we are alone, I watch her marvel at the interior of this transport. It is spacious for a carriage, yet still not ideal for one of my stature. Its walls and ceiling are painted a strange, highly reflective silver which makes it seem as if we are traveling within a box-shaped mirror. Opposite the door is a wide window to let in light, draped in dark blue lace for privacy.

"What's the word for the mirror kink again?" Verena wonders aloud.

Eris appears in the reflective surface beside her, tipping his head. "Mirror kink?"

"Damn it, I miss Google. Well, whatever it is, the queen clearly had that."

"As I've said, Reinhilde was always looking at herself. It doesn't mean she did anything sexual in this coach—though I admit I don't know, as she never summoned me here."

She gestures all around us before looking pointedly up at the reflective ceiling. "Come on. If this thing wasn't designed for hot voyeuristic carriage sex, I'm a monkey's uncle."

The clopping of shod horses meets my ears as the carriage begins to roll forward.

Deciding now is as good a time as any to tempt her, I remove my cloak, dropping it on the ground of the coach along with the bag.

That motion alone has her gaze lingering on my arms, which are left bare by my tunic. I pretend not to notice as I lean back in my seat.

As I begin to adjust the bindings on one of my arms, I let my gaze slide back to Verena. The humor sparkling in her dark blue gaze darkens into something titillating as she sees the expression I wear.

"Watch where you point that smolder, big guy. And don't you dare take off those bandages—you've already been giving me too much Kool-Aid every day. I'm worried I'm making you severely anemic."

"I'm only adjusting them. Unless you are in need of blood…or anything else," I smirk.

She blinks. "Sorry, what did you say? I think my ears cut out because you're making the face."

"What face?"

"I don't know, the sexy face hot action hero guys make. Where is this panty-melting smirk coming from? I've never even seen you smile before, and now you hit me with this? Have some mercy. But seriously, I'm not thirsty, and I'm not going to feed on you."

"Not yet," I agree. "That will come after."

"After? What are you⁠—"

Her voice drops off when I begin to loosen the ties at the top of my tunic, baring my neck to the cool air within the carriage.

It could easily be seen as getting comfortable, but Verena gasps, pointing a finger at me.

"J'Accuse! You're trying to thirst trap me!"