Page 152 of Blood of the Fairest

"I did not wish to involve you, but Wulf is not near any reflections in the royal barracks," Eris explains, blurring through nearby windows. "Please do not get yourself hurt defending them, Fairest. Just drain the bastard's blood and leave him for the witchfolk."

Just the thought of feeding makes my dry throat squeeze in anticipation.

The exhaustion that was just plaguing me is smoke in the wind as I race through the long corridor. Several Aurefeldan guards walking down the corridor exclaim in surprise as I burst through their midst.

This castle is as maze-like to me as Isenmere Castle, but the next staircase Eris indicates leads outside.

Now I can see the Isenmerian carriages parked outside a long, barn-like building, which must be the guest stables.

I only start to slow once I duck into the nearest opening. The loud whinnying of a horse and the smell of warm straw greet me as I pant for air, looking around. Since it's around dinnertime, it's full of horses but empty of people—except for Ingrid and Snow White.

They're backed into one of the empty stables by the hulking drunk Eris warned me about.

Ingrid is standing in front of Snow White. She's pink-cheeked and anxious as hell, holding up an empty bucket like she can use it as a weapon. A horse whinnies again, snorting and stomping its hooves in the stall beside them.

My attention slips to Snow White's wide-eyed terror, the dirt smudged on her cheek and straw in her hair…

Almost like she was tackled by that creep.

Whether that's the case or not, I see red.

Allergic to gore or not, I want to do what Eris suggested. I want to rip the man's throat out with my fangs, gorge myself on his blood, and let those creepy-ass witches turn him into another Boneless Bob.

I want to fucking feed.

But that would probably traumatize Snow White and Ingrid.

Their presence is the only thing that keeps me from going full monster, and I instead yank off one of my shoes.

"Hey!" I shout, hurling the slipper.

Usually I have the furthest thing from good aim, so it's a relief when it smacks off the man's head. He grunts, swaying slightly as he turns to face me with bloodshot eyes. Another horse neighs and rattles the door of its stall.

"Fucking bitch, you'll…regret that, you will," he slurs, hiccuping and burping halfway through the sentence.

"Get the hell out of here, Hiccuburp," I warn, my teeth aching to become fangs.

He's a huge, brawny guy, so it makes sense that he snorts at my threat. When he leaves Snow White and Ingrid to lumber toward me, I realize I might have to give in to this horrible desire for his blood after all.

A terrible part of me is really looking forward to that.

But then a stable door bursts open, and a slightly muffled male voice snaps, "Don't take another step, you slobbering fuck."

The drunk, Snow White, Ingrid, and I all look over at the impressive silhouette of a knight striding toward us.

His helmet and the rest of his armor clink with every step, gleaming in the golden sunlight pouring through the doorway behind him.

Hallelujah. A knight in shining armor, here to save me from my own bloodlust.

Hiccuburp swivels to face the newcomer. "Oi! Nothing's happening here that you need to stick your—" Hiccup. "Highborn nose into!"

The knight stops and scoffs. "Trust me, I'd rather not put my nose anywhere near you. I can smell the mead you're drenched in, even from under this helmet. Get out before I sober you up myself."

Horses are still snorting and whinnying around us, reacting to the contention. In the slightly reflective surface of this newcomer's armor, I catch a glimpse of Eris watching.

The man sneers. "Me, get out? Why should I? What's wrong with a nice stableman gettin'—" Hiccup. "Ac-cquainted with some pretty Isenmere ladies, eh?"

Ingrid tries to usher Snow White out of the stall they were cornered into before the inebriated man notices.