Chapter 11 #3
Lorcan gave me a look that said trusting me was the last thing he’d do, but he went to the bed. He sat gingerly on the edge, his body facing the balcony doors, then met my eyes like a condemned man gazing upon his executioner.
Nerves swept me. Now that I had his compliance, I wasn’t entirely certain what to do with it.
“How did you come by the injury?” I asked, moving closer. Even as the question left my lips, I knew the answer. He was a vampire. A predator who needed blood far more often than I did. Undoubtedly, his most recent meal had fought back when he fed.
The frost in his eyes deepened. “There was a disagreement,” he said flatly.
I raised an eyebrow as I drew close. “A disagreement that resulted in a dislocated shoulder and claw marks on your arm?” Blood healed my wounds quickly, but I was a dhampir. Maybe full vampires healed more slowly.
His jaw tightened. “A spirited disagreement.”
I stopped in front of him, my knees nearly brushing his. The scent of his blood swirled thicker. My fangs throbbed in response, and I swallowed hard.
“Take off your jacket,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady.
Lorcan’s lips thinned. “That won’t be necessary.”
“It is if you want to avoid excessive pain.” When he didn’t move, I sighed. “All right. I’ll work around it.”
He said nothing. Just stared out the window. Waiting.
I moved to his side, my thigh alongside his. Heat touched my cheeks as his spicy scent swirled around me. Why had I offered to do this? He was a pretentious, condescending asshole, Rasimir’s adviser and, most likely, mad from drinking the creatures of Nocta to death. I should have let him suffer.
Instead, I took his wrist. Up close, the slashes on his sleeve were deeper than I’d first thought.
Old blood dried on the fabric, and glimpses of his skin appeared between the rips.
Humans weren’t capable of slashing cloth—at least, not without a knife.
But the wounds weren’t from a blade. They were evenly spaced, as if something had slashed him with claws. Maybe fangs.
Lorcan’s pulse thudded under my fingers. His blood invaded my lungs, its power tugging at something inside me. A knot, maybe. It tugged and tugged, trying to pull me apart.
My fingers tightened before I could stop them. Lorcan twitched but quickly caught himself, his gaze unwavering.
I cleared my throat. “This will hurt.”
His dark eyes met mine before returning to the balcony. “I’m not wholly unacquainted with pain.”
Moonlight painted him in shades of silver and white. His cheekbones were high, his jaw sharp but just rugged enough to save him from appearing delicate. He was more traditionally handsome than Vander.
And just what was I doing, comparing them? Admiring their looks? They were Rasimir’s henchmen. Monsters no better than the courtiers who laughed when arrows plunged into Alon’s spine.
Except Lorcan saved your life , a voice murmured in my mind. He stopped Rasimir from killing you.
It didn’t matter. Lorcan had stopped Rasimir because the king needed me for something. I was a weapon , nothing more.
“Relax,” I ordered, a hard edge in my voice. I moved both hands to Lorcan’s forearm and slowly raised it so it was parallel to the floor. He tensed and I shifted closer, my thigh pressed to his. “Fighting me will make this harder,” I added. “You have to relax.”
“I’m relaxed,” he said through clenched teeth. Tension thrummed through his arm, but he took a steadying breath and then released it, wincing a little when his shoulders drooped.
“Better,” I said, pressing the heel of my hand to his chest. His breath hitched, and his heart pounded under my palm. The scent of blood and dark spices drifted around my head. My fingers on his arm grazed the rents in his jacket.
“How long is this going to take?” he asked, still gazing at the balcony.
For a moment, I considered dropping his arm and walking away.
Finish what you start , my mother’s voice whispered in my head.
Biting my tongue, I tightened my grip on his arm and began to pull.
Pressing my opposite hand into his chest, I drew his injured arm away from his body in one smooth, continuous motion.
He hissed through his teeth. His chest tightened under my hand, and a growl rumbled in his throat.
The joint popped into place with a loud thunk .
Lorcan jerked a startled gaze to mine.
“Better?” I asked, releasing him and stepping back.
He lifted his arm and flexed his fingers. Then he pressed his good hand to his shoulder. “Yes,” he said. “It’s…good.” He paused, with something that might have been gratitude stirring in his eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Our gazes held. Silence spooled between us. Lorcan stood, cloth rustling as he gave his shoulder an experimental shrug.
“You shouldn’t move it for a while,” I said. “The joint can slip back out of place.”
He lowered his hand. “I’m a vampire.”
“So you’ll heal quickly,” I said, “but you’re not invincible.”
He narrowed his eyes, and for a moment, it seemed like he’d argue. Instead, he tugged down his jacket. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Moonlight slanted between us in long shafts. More silence stretched, and I motioned to the slashes in his sleeve.
“Those aren’t knife wounds.”
His expression instantly grew shuttered. He turned and headed for the door.
“What made them?” I asked, following.
No response.
Irritation rose. “Were you attacked by a werewolf?”
Nothing. His back was ramrod straight as he neared the door.
“You killed him,” I said, my irritation turning to disgust. “More blood and stolen power on your hands.”
Suddenly, he was right in front of me, his fingers tight on my jaw and his dark eyes cold and flat. Ice dripped from his words, any trace of softness long gone as he held me in place.
“A word from me about your little escape attempt, and Rasimir will make you regret being born. Your father will keep your organs in a bucket in front of you and make you watch as his court devours them. You will beg for death even as your immortality surges you back to life over and over.”
My gut clenched, visions of Duncan’s torture flowing through my mind in a nightmarish promenade. But fury lent my voice strength as I glared up at Lorcan.
“You’re sick,” I spat. “You’re nothing but a violent, disgusting beast.”
His fingers tightened on my jaw. The threat of bloodshed sparked between us. My fangs shot lower, something inside me eager for it.
Lorcan’s eyes widened. Then they glittered, and for just a second, I could have sworn approval flickered in them. He shoved me away, the move so abrupt that I yelped as I stumbled back.
“You have a beast inside you, too,” he rasped. “You better hope she grows some claws.”
Rage and fear trembled in my chest. My fangs throbbed, and my heart knocked against my ribs. The scant space between us crackled with anger and the promise of bloodshed. And if a third thing swirled in the air, I ignored it.
“The guard on your door will be doubled,” Lorcan said. “In case you decide to take another walk.”
I curled my hands into fists so I wouldn’t surge forward and slap his face.
He turned and opened the door. The knight lurched away from the wall, a bunch of fresh flowers in one fist. His throat worked above the quilted gambeson peeking from his breastplate.
“I, ah, brought these,” he said, thrusting the flowers out. When Lorcan didn’t take them, the knight blanched. The hem of his crimson cloak trembled around his armored calves.
Lorcan stepped forward, and his voice went silky as he eyed the knight. “The princess had difficulty sleeping. I wonder why her guard wasn’t available to assist her.”
The knight’s complexion turned ashen. His hand shook as he lowered the bouquet. “I…My prince, I was only—” Metal scraped against stone as he took a step back. “I didn’t mean—”
“You won’t hurt this man,” I said, the words jumping from my lips before I could stop them.
Both men swung toward me, their identical looks of surprise mirroring my own emotion.
What was I doing, standing up for Rasimir’s guard?
But the knight didn’t deserve to be punished for doing something as ordinary as falling asleep in the middle of the night.
If Lorcan reported him, the man could lose his life.
I looked at Lorcan. “The knight didn’t fall asleep. I disabled him when I left my room. He’s lucky to be alive.”
The knight coughed, then recovered quickly. Lorcan held my stare, the look in his eyes both inscrutable and intense.
“You disabled a trained vampire knight,” he said at last.
I lifted my chin. “That’s right.” I held my breath, waiting for him to call the lie laughable. After another staring contest, he turned to the knight.
“The princess needs rest. See that she gets it.”
The knight formed his free hand into a fist and pressed it to his chest in salute. “Of course, Your Highness.”
Lorcan turned and strode away, quickly rounding the end of the corridor and disappearing.
The knight waited until his footsteps faded before turning back to me. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he said quietly.
I’d lost track of how many surprises the night had brought. But this one was different. The Drakhold overflowed with enemies and obstacles. Except for perhaps Delphine…and now the knight. Maybe.
He held out the flowers. “These go in your room, Princess.”
“Right,” I said, taking the bouquet. The knight bowed as I backed into my chamber. Shutting the door, I leaned against it with the flowers clutched to my chest.
My heart still pounded from my encounter with Lorcan. The memory of his fingers lingered on my chin. Crossing to the table, I placed the flowers in the empty vase. Then I stood in front of them, my hands limp at my sides as the reality of my situation settled over me.
I couldn’t escape. Not now, with double guards outside my door and Lorcan aware of my sole failed attempt. Your father will keep your organs in a bucket in front of you and make you watch as his court devours them.
My stomach twisted. Tomorrow I had to spend the day with Lorcan and Vander as they unveiled whatever terrible truths still lay in store for me. The men seemed to loathe each other, which meant I could expect more tension and discomfort. More pain and blood.
A wise woman builds her house away from the cliff’s edge. But I wasn’t wise. I was trapped.
Straightening, I went to the washstand and stripped off my clothes.
The shirt and trousers slid back into the dragonstone gown as soon as I hung it in the wardrobe.
Washing quickly, I threw a nightdress over my head and climbed into bed.
Turning onto my side, I fell into an exhausted sleep, my dreams filled with cold, dark eyes and my reflection staring back at me from an oversized mirror.