Page 70 of Blood of the Fairest

Eris sighs. "Look, I'm sorry you hate it so much, but you do need to get used to it."

"Like hell I do. I only have to get by long enough to read those books and find a way back to my world," Verena grumbles, wiping the blood off her face with a dress sleeve.

The need pumping through me is no longer fogging my head. Although I now cannot look at Verena without picturing more of her lips, tongue, and teeth on me, I try to consider how to best serve the woman I am pledged to.

I glance at Eris. "What happens if she does not drink blood daily?"

"She'll fall dangerously ill," he mutters, glowering at her. "She's treating this as nothing more than a minor supplement she must tolerate, but nothing else can sustain her. The queen's diet is blood alone. Verena is starving herself."

She glowers back at him. "Bite me."

"Bite Wulf."

"Bite no one, if it sours your stomach," I cut in before their arguing gains more traction.

That draws their attention to me, but Verena's gaze drops to my bleeding arm. She swears, turning away and holding her breath.

Determined to spare her obvious revulsion for gore and blood, I scoop the ripped bandages off the ground to rebind my arm as I speak.

"If you cannot stand feeding from me directly, what you need can be mixed in with other things. Perhaps wine to hide the color."

She walks out of the alcove as if seeking fresh air before returning, pensive.

"Yeah, okay. I'll try anything to make this easier. And at least this way, I won't be accidentally forcing you to get all excited and…big. I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice that. Sorry for the blue balls," Verena adds, glancing down as though this apology is for my cock.

Her attention to my dying lust is only reviving it again. I'm sorely tempted to suggest that we try this once more in her bed, where I can make certain she will be too overwhelmed with pleasure to feel any remorse about drinking the blood I am more than willing to give her.

Yet even now, the way she stands makes it clear she is wary of me, so I keep my mouth shut.

Besides, I should be repaying my sins against her, not hoping to hear her moan again.

"Spiking drinks won't be nearly enough blood for you," Eris warns her.

"Your new nickname is Debbie Downer."

"Fine, don't heed me. I'm only the real Reinhilde's former prisoner, so what do I know of her malady?"

Verena ignores his sarcasm to frown at me. "Now that my brain is starting to function again, where did you just come from, and who the hell cut your arm?"

Briefly, I recount finding the former Favored whom Eris warned me of. I caught him as he was trying to enter a solitary door at the base of the castle wall. Strangely, he could not turn the handle nor break the glass to escape me.

It was a small skirmish that was over quickly, but he had a second knife hidden in his robe and managed to take a swipe at me before I killed him.

"You killed him?" she repeats. "Sheesh. Is there no justice system in this world? Whatever happened to getting a trial? Why didn't you throw him in the dungeon?"

"He intended to kill you," I grit.

"And what, you just don't like other people crowding in on your hobby?" she points out dryly.

Even if Verena treats it with humor, her reminder of my past actions is a hammer to my head. The desire flooding my body has not cooled completely, but remembering her screams and the way she thrashed, drowning in the pool of that dungeon…

"I would give my life to erase that day from existence," I whisper.

"Enough of the giving-up-life thing," she huffs. "In fact, I would really appreciate it if everyone could stop dying in this fucked-up world. Next time someone tries to kill the queen—which let's face it, is probably going to happen again soon since she was a complete bitch—I'd like to at least ask them a few questions and try to spare a life."

She is merciful.

But to protect one so good, I cannot show mercy to her enemies. I would rather her loathe my penchant for violence than risk seeing her harmed by anyone or anything.