Chapter 20
Azur
“T he deed to the estate was finalized yesterday,” Zaale informed me, hovering next to my desk, though I had my back to him, peering out the window down to the grounds below.
Gemma and Kalia were down there.
Again.
The third time in three days.
“It was approved by the New Everton Council. The Nulaxy representative uploaded it to our Halo. He apologized for the delay,” Zaale continued.
The soft raspiness of his voice was growing more pronounced every day. I wanted him to give up his post. I wanted him to relax , but he had refused. I knew that Zaale wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he stepped down at head keeper.
The deed.
“Good,” I grunted. “Mr. Cross has his uses, it seems.”
“Does the Kylaira know?” Zaale asked.
“No,” I said, turning from the window. “She doesn’t.”
He inclined his head in an affirmative nod, his horns, streaked with silver tendrils, glimmering with the high afternoon sun.
“Do you plan to inform her?”
Having the Hara’s estate under my control had always been a part of the plan. Gemma likely hadn’t known that Rye Hara had already lost it. Over a year ago. He’d given the deed to a collector as collateral for a gambling debt.
When he’d first heard of my proposal, the first thing he’d had Mr. Cross amend to the marriage contract was a stipulation for the recovery of the deed. To pay off yet another collector—a toothy Binshay who also dabbled in vessel scrapping—to reclaim it.
But I’d had an amendment of my own, one Rye Hara hadn’t liked.
In the end, it had come down to whether he wished for his deed to be owned by the Binshay…or to be owned by the Kylorr who married his eldest daughter.
As of yesterday, the Hara estate in the Collis of New Everton was mine .
After I’d originally brokered the deal, I’d had malicious thoughts of selling the deed to whatever greedy-palmed, beady-eyed, salivating dealer I could find. The Haras would be kicked out of their own home with nowhere to turn. The estate would be overrun by leeches looking to profit off their belongings. All of New Earth would know their shame because I would ensure that it would be plastered on every inter-Quadrant database and news com network I could find.
And then I would turn the video feed over to War Crimes. Rye Hara would be tried and imprisoned. He’d rot away on a prison planet for the rest of his life, and thinking about that had made venom leak over my tongue, delicious and sweet.
Now there was only one problem.
My wife.
“No,” I finally answered Zaale. “She doesn’t need to know.”
“What should I do with the deed?”
“Put it with the others,” I told him. In our family’s secure network on our Halo. “And have a parchment copy placed in our vault.”
“I will,” Zaale said.
When I returned to my desk, however, I saw him hesitate on the threshold of the room.
“Anything else?” I asked, peering at him closely.
“The alerts you had Setlan set up,” Zaale started.
Setlan was our family’s private ambassador and advisor. If we needed anything done off planet, he would take care of it. It had been him who’d approached Mr. Cross with my proposal, after all.
I straightened as Zaale let out a mighty huff.
“It seems Rye Hara opened up a credits line with a collector on Vrano.”
“ Vaan ,” I cursed under my breath, dragging a hand over my horn. As if on cue, I heard Gemma’s laugh echo up from the terrace. I had the windows propped open, allowing a warm breeze to blow through my private offices. Every now and again, I’d catch a spare word of my wife and sister’s conversation. A laugh or two, even from my sister, which made a strange tightness in my chest snap and pull. “When?”
“This morning.”
Gemma would be devastated by the news.
When I’d first married her, I would have delighted in that misery. I would have fed on it like blood, lapping it up and feeling it warm me from the inside out. Rye Hara’s desperation—which I now knew was mingled with an addiction—would have felt sublime . Better than sex and more satisfying than a long drink from a blood giver after flying all night.
Now?
Now the announcement was accompanied by an uneasy twist in my gut. Because now I knew what Gemma had given up to try to help her family. Of which, I had a feeling she’d only revealed a fraction to me. Her loyalty to her sisters, especially, made the news all the more discomfiting.
He will never stop, I thought.
I’d told her as much four nights ago. In the quiet of the records room. Though I’d fed from her every night since—just thinking about her shuddering and gasping last night as I’d fed from her neck, feeling her squirm against me, filled me with sudden and alarming need—we hadn’t returned to the subject of her family. Or her father.
She seemed to believe he could stop.
Or at least a hopeful, optimistic part of her did.
I believed differently.
“Have Setlan stop the deal,” I growled to Zaale. “Immediately. Make sure whoever it is on Vrano knows the Haras’ connection with House Kaalium.”
That would be enough to warn any collectors away.
“I’ll alert him now,” Zaale said, studying me with an expression I wasn’t used to. One he often used with Kalia, however, because while he loved her, he could never quite figure her out.
“Send word to Rye Hara too,” I rasped, my fists clenching on the surface of my desk. “Tell him that if he approaches another collector, it will be a breach of his agreement with us. And with his daughter.”
The only piece of the Collis estate that Rye Hara refused to give up was a lake . A disgusting, slime-ridden little lake in the back of the house. But any breach of contract would ensure that I would own that too. My words would be a warning. A reminder that there was still much, much more that I could take.
If I had insinuated that I’d also take out my aggressions and frustrations on his daughter should he anger me?
Well…I’d let him continue to think that.
Fear was a powerful motivator.
There was a buzzing starting up underneath my skin. I took in a deep breath after Zaale departed with a sharp nod. I clenched the edges of my desk, but the frustration wouldn’t leave and there was venom dripping on my tongue.
Now I was restless. Thinking of that useless sack of bones who had ruined himself and his family. Who had torn mine apart.
Raazos .
With a muted curse, I rose and went to the balcony. I opened the wide gate and launched myself into the air, flaring my wings wide, circling down to the terrace. My eyes were locked on Gemma. Another dress today, this one beige in color. Hideous. Again. Even so, each day, the punishing fantasy of slipping whatever ugly dress up around her waist and drinking from her cunt was becoming more and more distracting.
Kalia caught sight of me before my wife did. She narrowed her gaze on me, and I landed with a loud thump behind Gemma. Who gasped and turned, her hand pressed to her chest.
When she saw me, she stilled. Her tongue darted out to swipe at her plump lips, tightening my belly with need. Did she realize that her neck had begun to flush red whenever she saw me? Blood rushing. Preparing . Like her body knew who it belonged to and it was doing whatever it could to please its master.
“Leave us,” I growled at Kalia.
My sister didn’t like that. Even still, she grumbled and rose to her feet. “Just because you’re the Kyzaire , doesn’t mean you can order me around, brother .”
“Kalia,” I bit out, though my eyes had never left Gemma’s. The need for my kyrana ’s blood was like an addiction. I needed my next fix. And I needed it now . Yesterday had been the first time I’d drunk from her twice in one day. Today would likely be the same. It was only afternoon.
It would only get worse.
Kalia rolled her eyes. Another human reaction she’d probably picked up in the village, likely from Neela…or even from Gemma.
“You’re even worse than Kythel,” she grumbled, stomping off before she eventually took to the sky, flying around the front of the keep, out of sight.
“Who’s Kythel?” Gemma asked, her voice soft and measured.
She was a mess.
Her hair was wild, trying to escape her ever-present bun, sticking to the dampness of her forehead and the back of her neck. It was much too warm for her to be wearing that long-sleeved monstrosity, even if I liked the wide neckline, showing off my plethora of bites from the last few days.
I jerked my chin up, gesturing for her to rise from her knees. Her hands were filthy and she had scrapes across the backs of her fingers from the starwood vines.
“Now?” she asked, nibbling on her bottom lip. She looked back to the section of the banister she and my sister had been working on tearing out. “But we’re almost done, and—”
“Gemma,” I growled.
She huffed, making my lips twitch, though I hid it with a scowl.
“Very well. You’re awfully bossy, you know that?” she asked, her tone positively prim , as she rose, wiping her hands on a nearby cloth before throwing it to the ground. “Who’s Kythel?”
Won’t let that go, I thought.
“My brother,” I grunted.
My twin, was what I left unspoken.
Fire and ice, our mother used to called us. Me? I could burn anyone with my scorn. Kythel? He’d speared them straight through the heart with the ice in his gaze.
Sometimes, we could be either. Or we could be both.
“One of your many brothers,” Gemma murmured, eyeing me as I approached. “Which territory does he oversee?”
Was she trying to distract me?
I wouldn’t allow it.
“Erzos,” I rumbled, twining my arms around her.
“Oh. You—you want to feed here ?” she asked, her gaze flitting behind me. Nervous.
I felt my lips curl. Leaning down, I bit at her neck but didn’t break the flesh with my fangs. Only gentle nips meant to warn.
“Why not here? Afraid all the keep will hear your moans as you come?” I questioned, my voice deepening and roughening with every word.
Fuck, I wanted that. Hearing her come…it no longer filled me with a sense of restless shame. Knowing I was giving pleasure to the daughter of an enemy. Instead, it made me feel victorious. Like I’d slaughtered my way across a battlefield and come out the other side.
Her breath whistled through her nostrils. “All the windows face this way, and the keepers will see—”
My arms tightened around her waist and then I leapt up, whipping my wings down to propel us forward.
Her muted scream was muffled in my vest. I’d been training earlier this morning, and as such, her hands scrambled over my gauntlets, trying to grip the smooth metal.
Was she worried I’d let her fall?
That I would fly her up miles above the keep and just…let go?
I would do it to her father, I realized. In a heartbeat.
Then her scream stopped. I hadn’t meant to fly us far. Just to the private alcove of the courtyard below, away from the prying eyes of the keep, where we wouldn’t be disturbed for a handful of moments.
Yet I found myself journeying over the Silver Sea until we were skimming just above the water, clear and calm that afternoon. Perfect.
Gemma had had her legs wrapped around mine in her initial panic, but when she realized that I had a strong grip on her—holding her waist and back in the vice of my arms—I saw her tilt her head back hesitantly.
I picked up speed, wondering what she would do as the wind whipped around us. I tilted our angle so that we were parallel to the water and so that her back was to it. Like I could lay her down among the reflections and small waves, a bed of our own making.
In the wind, whatever tie that had gripped her hair in that damn bun came loose, disappearing into the sea below. Her hair tumbled down, a black waterfall of tangled silk, and she gasped when the ends skimmed across the surface of the sea, her eyes flying to mine. A bloom of her scent reached me now that her hair was no longer bound. She smelled like the soap the keepers purchased from the village. Made from the leaves in the northern forests, clean and fresh, and it mingled with her own tantalizing scent that had venom dripping from my fangs.
We were getting farther and farther from the keep.
I saw the exact moment that wonderment sprang to life in Gemma’s eyes.
It hit me square in the chest, making my hands tighten on her.
She looked up at me with parted lips that slowly curved into a smile. Suddenly, a reverberating bolt of energy jolted through my whole body, ringing through my blood, quickening my heart, and steeling my cock.
Her head lolled back, pushing her breasts up, baring her neck, which was covered in my bites. She wanted to watch the Silver Sea passing underneath us, but she didn’t realize what an erotic image she presented, stretched out with delight on her lips as her breasts rose and fell in excitement. A graceful arm reached out, and I watched with bated breath as she skimmed her fingertips across the water, sending sparks of the salty sea rising in their wake.
Gemma laughed, low and husky before it was carried away by the wind.
She was burned into my memory. Just like this. I didn’t think I would ever forget this.
How could I have ever thought her plain?
My cock gave a warning throb. The bulge at the base of my cock fluttered and tightened, a rhythmic pulsing that made me gnash my teeth together.
Abruptly, I changed directions, making Gemma gasp. Hurtling back to the keep, I flew faster and faster, pumping my wings until all I heard was a rushing in my ears and all I could see was Gemma’s delighted grin, her white dull teeth flashing in the afternoon sunlight, which spread over her skin and made her glow golden.
“ Vaan ,” I cursed under my breath, feeling like I was on the verge of coming in my damn pants with no physical stimulation at all. I would come as I drank from her, I knew. It hadn’t happened before, but it would this afternoon.
Gemma gasped when I landed on the courtyard terrace, the impact no doubt jarring and sudden. In the next moment, I dragged her into the small space where we’d be hidden from view of the keep, tucked away among the tangled starwood vines and the stone wall of the staircase at our backs.
Gemma was gripping my vest, bunching the stiff material in her hands. Her hair was a wild, windswept mess, lovely and chaotic. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, and she was still smiling, those plump, soft lips curling.
And suddenly, I needed to taste them almost as much as I needed to feed from her.
Pinning her up against the wall of the staircase, I ducked my head, the sensation of wild and feral desire, one that bordered on madness, overcoming me.
“Azur,” she gasped, her smile finally dying, replaced by a spark of awareness at our closeness and the roughness of my grip on her hips.
My cock pulsed with my name.
This is madness, I thought.
When our lips met, it felt like a violent thing.
Her lips were perfectly soft. Tender. She gasped into my mouth, and I groaned, digging my claws into the flesh of her hips, dragging her closer. I devoured her until she was clinging to me, until I was stroking my tongue across hers, finding her impossibly soft there too. Slick and needy.
My fangs pricked her bottom lip, and I growled, tasting the bloom of her blood. Just a small tease. A small taste.
This is madness, I thought again.
I couldn’t stop.