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“Kylian,” I gasp, pushing weakly at his chest, trying to remind him that I am still here, still alive, still more than a vein beneath his teeth.
He doesn’t stop.
His grip tightens, his body pressing harder, his mouth dragging along my throat as he bites again, deeper this time. My knees nearly collapse as the pleasure spikes so violently it borders on pain. The sensation drags me under again, toward something I don’t know how to stop.
I shove harder, but it does nothing, not because he is a king, because he’s a monster. The realization terrifies me. Brute force will never work on him, not when he’s like this.
I feel my power stir, a frantic heat crawling under my skin as panic drags it to the surface. I fight to force it down because I know what happens when a spark of magic ignites, and I cannot afford to make this worse by hurting him.
So instead of fighting him, my hand slides down between us, trembling, and I grip his cock through his clothes. Sex and bloodlust go hand in hand with vampires.
The sound he makes is immediate, a harsh groan that vibrates against my throat. His fangs pull out as his breath shudders, as if the sensation yanks him back into himself.
I tighten my grip, not gentle or shy as I squeeze and rub my hand along his hard length. I need him to remember I’m not a meal, not a thing to drain, and my fingers move to his base and squeeze. His head jerks up, eyes burning, lips wet with my blood. His expression is torn between bloodlust and desire.
“Clever little mage,” he rasps.
His mouth crashes down onto mine.
The kiss is not gentle.
It is violent possession, his tongue forcing its way in as if it’s a punishment. I moan, the taste of my blood on his mouth makes the kiss feel filthy. Intimate and wrong, yet my body responds far too eagerly.
He grips my wrists, pinning them above my head against the wall, and the helplessness of it makes my breath hitch. This is the terrifying side of him I’ve been dancing around. The part that does not ask, does not negotiate, and can’t be reasoned with.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes are wild, fangs still extended, and his chest rises and falls too fast.
My lips are swollen, and my throat throbs from the bite. I swallow down the sting of it, then force myself to ask the question that feels like stepping onto a blade.
“What happens now,” I whisper, head still spinning.
His eyes drag slowly over my face, lingering on my throat where blood stains my skin. He takes in my mouth, swollen from his kiss, and my trembling hands locked inside his punishing grip. “You will learn,” he murmurs.
My pulse stutters.
“What?” I breathe.
His fingers slide down my jaw, then to the side of my neck, pressing lightly where his teeth have marked me. I hold his searing red stare, seeing the promise so dark it makes my stomach drop.
“You will learn that disobedience has consequences. You made me weak today, little mage. You made me risk war, and you did it because you still believe you can run from me.” He leans in, lips brushing the corner of my mouth. “You cannot,” he whispers.
When a knock sounds, he releases me just as the door opens, and Eagan bows his head.
“My king . . . The crew is waiting on deck.”
Kylian’s expression is troubled. “Remember you caused this. You forced my hand. I can’t look weak with Zander’s men aboard, and the crew expects punishment for the prisoner they had to go after.”
Eagan moves to the wardrobe, dragging out a long cloak before holding it out to Kylian.
“You should cover up. It’s quite chilly on deck,” Eagan adds before grabbing his own. My brows pinch at the strange look they seem to give each other, an entire conversation passing in a glance.
CHAPTER 30
• Alessia •
THE DECK IS packed, bodies shoulder to shoulder, boots scraping wet wood as I’m dragged out into the open air.
The crew is unusually quiet as their eyes dart from me to the king, and I understand instantly that this isn’t about the trouble I caused everyone. They’re judging his leadership, weighing his strength by the severity of my punishment. It’s about making an example of me.
