Chapter 25 Bronwen
Bronwen
Dinner with the siblings hadn’t happened in nearly two months, yet somehow it felt like no time had passed at all.
They slipped back into their roles with practiced ease.
Lavina and Simon launched into the latest court gossip with theatrical flair, their voices weaving around each other like twin performers on a stage.
Benedict sat in his usual place, silently focused on his plate, only glancing up to murmur a dry remark here and there when it suited him.
Corwin’s seat was empty, considering he was a pile of ashes in our hearth.
And then there was August.
He didn’t say much. He rarely did in these settings unless provoked, but tonight he was… attentive. Watchful. His eyes—dark, piercing, and heavy with something I couldn’t name—barely left me.
I tried not to squirm under his gaze, tried not to let the heat pooling in my stomach rise to my cheeks.
But it was impossible to ignore. The way he watched me eat—like every movement of my hand, every bite of food, every flick of my tongue against my bottom lip, was something he wanted to memorize. Or devour.
My fork slowed halfway to my mouth. The memory of getting dressed together earlier flickered behind my eyes like a match being struck.
His hands had been on my hips the second my dress fell to the ground.
And when his shirt came off, I lost my train of thought entirely.
He’d backed me into the dressing table with a hunger that made my knees weak, the edge of the mirror digging into my spine as our mouths collided.
It was reckless, frenzied—and if my stomach hadn’t growled loud enough to almost embarrass me, we wouldn’t have made it out of the room.
I’d whispered a promise against his throat—one I still fully intended to keep. I would make it up to him when we returned to our chambers tonight.
I caught the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knew exactly what I was remembering. I turned back to my plate, ignoring the burn in my cheeks.
“I am beginning to worry about Corwin.”
Lavina’s voice sliced through the clinking of silverware and low laughter like a blade. My head snapped up, more at the absurdity of her words than anything else. Worry? About Corwin? Now?
I glanced at August, trying to turn my expression into something neutral.
He set down his glass with an almost lazy grace and gave Lavina a look as dry as dust. “No, you aren’t. You care for nothing but yourself, Lavina.”
She held his gaze for a moment before shrugging and turning back to Simon. “Do you remember Odin Draymoor?”
“The one who proposed to you decades ago, and when you turned him down, he left?”
She nodded. “He’s back. With someone else.”
Simon leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs as he took a long sip from his goblet. “What’s the problem? You didn’t want him.”
“No, but I want him to want me.”
“You don’t want that.”
Lavina’s eyes snapped to me. I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.
“What do you know about this? You married the one obsessed with you.”
August let out a quiet laugh, dark and amused, like he found the idea more flattering than offensive.
I met Lavina’s stare. “I was proposed to once too. And his obsession got him killed. By August.”
August’s head turned sharply toward me, eyes narrowing. “He proposed to you?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
August didn’t so much as flinch, but his voice came low and unbothered from beside me. “If I had known that, I would’ve killed him sooner.”
I was starting to forget how much we used to keep from each other. I dropped my gaze before he could see me blush and fixed it on the untouched spread of desserts. Halston had gone all out tonight; weeks without nightly family dinners must have left him itching for something to orchestrate.
Chairs scraped against the stone floor as everyone began rising from the table, preparing to head to the great room.
Lavina was already smoothing her skirts as she took Simon’s arm, Benedict trailing behind them without a word.
I pushed my chair back, but before I could stand fully, August’s hand caught my wrist beneath the table.
“Not tonight,” he said under his breath, eyes never leaving mine.
I blinked at him. “Why not?”
His lips curved. “Because you have a promise to keep.”
* * *
The sheets were still tangled around our legs when I climbed back on top of him, both of us naked, sweat-slick and breathless. His hands slid up the backs of my thighs, thumbs digging into the soft skin as I sank down onto him again.
His head fell back against the pillows, lips parted, chest rising in sharp, shallow breaths. “Fuck, Winnie…”
I rolled my hips slowly, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. His hands tightened their grip, holding me still so he could thrust up into me with brutal precision.
“Ride me like you mean it,” he growled, eyes dark and shining.
“I always mean it,” I panted, bracing myself against his chest.
His hand came up to cup the side of my face, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. “Look at you,” he murmured. “Fucking beautiful like this.”
It should have felt like a line. Maybe it was. But something twisted in my chest when he said it—something that made me move faster, made me lean into him more.
He sat up suddenly, our chests pressed together, his mouth dragging over my collarbone, then up to my jaw. “Don’t stop,” he whispered against my skin. “I need this.”
So did I.
He didn’t hesitate. His fangs sank into me with a sharp, aching bite that sent lightning through every nerve.
The pain twisted with the pleasure until I couldn’t tell them apart, until I was crying out and clutching his shoulders, riding him harder just to chase that edge.
His body trembled beneath me, a deep, desperate growl rumbling in his chest as he drank.
He always unraveled when he tasted me—when I let him lose control.
He pulled back before he took too much, lips slick with my blood, red eyes glazed. “You’ll be the death of me,” he rasped.
I smiled through ragged breaths. “Good.”
Dark veins throbbed beneath his eyes. I skimmed them with my fingertips, feeling them pulse like a second heartbeat.
He shuddered and drove into me to the hilt.
I drew my hand down, and with the pad of my thumb I painted his mouth with my blood then dragged it along the cut of his cheek, the red stark against his porcelain skin.
He went very still, eyes burning, as I leaned in and licked it clean, tongue following the path I’d made, tasting heat and iron and him.
He broke then, a ragged noise blooming in his chest, and I caught it with my mouth, kissing him open until he was breathless.
It wasn’t just about the sex anymore. Not really.
The moment shattered with the violent crash of the door slamming open.
My breath caught in my throat, the scream barely forming before August had already moved. In one fluid, instinctive motion, he threw me behind him, the blankets tangling around my legs as I hit the mattress.
He crouched low, every muscle coiled, his bare skin glowing in the low firelight, the predator beneath the king rising to the surface in an instant.
A young woman hit the stone floor, thrown into the room like garbage. Her body crumpled, tears streaking her face.
“I cannot get this one to calm down,” Simon said casually, stepping into the room with blood-red eyes. “Either fix her or I drain her.”
“Do not come into my room without permission,” August snapped.
Simon bowed with mocking flair. “Well, excuse me, Your Highness. But considering how few servants we have right now, I figured you’d want the chance to fix this one before I lost my patience.”
August stared at him for a long moment, chest still rising fast from what we’d been doing. Then he pushed off the bed, the air shifting around him as he stood. In a few quick steps, he crossed the room and crouched by the woman.
“What’s the problem?”
She shot a fearful glance at Simon, then turned to August. A shriek ripped from her when she saw his eyes. “Vampires,” she whispered as she scrabbled backward across the floor. “They’re everywhere.”
“You know you’re only allowed to feed underground,” August growled without looking up at Simon.
“I did—just forgot to clean up before I came back,” Simon said with a careless shrug. His gaze slid between August and where my hand covered my neck. “So, what exactly would you call what you two were doing?”
“Simon,” August warned.
“Fix her and I’ll be out of your way.”
August went to the woman who had backed herself against the wall and cupped her face gently, turning his head to glance at me. “Winnie. I need you to not freak out with what I’m about to do, okay? Can you do that?”
I nodded stiffly, unsettled by Simon’s attention. He had never really bothered me before, but with the blood under my hand and the blanket wrapped around me, his eyes barely left me.
August turned back to the girl and locked eyes with her. “Calm down.”
Instantly, her shoulders dropped and the panic melted off her face.
“Forget the vampires. Forget what you saw. Clean yourself up and get back to work.”
She blinked, wiped her cheeks, stood, bowed… and walked calmly out of the room.
“Absolutely amazing as always, brother,” Simon said, grinning.
“Get out.”
Simon lifted a hand in lazy farewell and shut the door behind him. August stood and stared at me.
“What the fuck just happened?”
“I said not to freak out,” August reminded.
“You just told that woman to calm down and she did. Like—completely.”
“It wasn’t the words,” he said, climbing back onto the bed with me. “It was the look.”
I backed away as he crawled closer. “You can make people do whatever you want… just by looking at them?”
He shrugged.
“Stop being so nonchalant about it! How do I know you’ve never done that to me before? How do I know that anything I’ve done around you—for you—was of my own free will?“