Chapter 44
Belle
We caught the horses, and the ride back to the pavilion gave us ample time for the lingering heat of his blood to fade, and for my mortification to deepen.
Unable to stand the king’s smoldering gaze, I rode behind Storm, feigning composure, while my heartbeat betrayed me. Every glance at him made my skin tingle with something I refused to name. I stared down at my palm, the flesh barely pink where the fiery sting had once been.
I hated myself. And I hated him.
My father’s dagger nestled against my thigh, lighter for missing its blade. It hadn’t been anything special, but it had been his, and the thought of replacing it made my throat ache.
We broke into the clearing, now alive with music, torches, and a crush of nobles. Relief flooded me. I wanted to be near anyone but the king.
The groomsmen approached, and I quickly dismounted. When I turned, Valen was there, waiting, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
I forced my voice to steady. “Thank you for saving my life. But what happened between us, it will never happen again. Understood?”
He arched one eyebrow. “You seemed to enjoy it, if I wasn’t mistaken.”
I ground my teeth. “I hated every second of it.”
He didn’t reply. We both knew the truth. What I hated was that I had enjoyed every second of it. Right up until reality had come crashing back like a bad hangover.
I turned toward the crowd that filled the pavilion, their voices carrying on the crisp air.
Hunters returned to the company of noble women and courtesans, not to mention the hurrying forms of two dozen servants.
A band at the far side of the pavilion played raucous, wild music as the hunters gathered around the offering stone.
“Looks like the others were successful,” the king said. “Perhaps you’ll have your tusk after all.”
Before I could object, he took my gloved hand in his and guided me through the crush of bodies. A nervous warmth spread through my belly—a lingering ailment from his blood, no doubt. Nothing more.
Recognition rippled through the crowd, and the nobles parted to let us pass, raising their gold and silver goblets to the king. They’d already been feasting, and blood had turned their lips and teeth crimson.
Were mine the same?
Nausea—and shame at what I’d done with Valen—bloomed in my throat, but I promised myself I wouldn’t let it show, no matter what came next.
Ahead, Careena stood beside the offering stone, chanting in a language I didn’t recognize.
She lifted a silver dagger over a fallen animal, and recognition dawned.
It was the boar that had charged us. A fragment of my arrow still protruded from its shoulder, and a deep cut marred its throat.
Perhaps the wounds had brought it down in the end.
“Thank you,” I whispered to the beast, for giving its life to us.
Careena drew the blade slowly across its throat. Blood spilled into the carved channels and drained over the unintelligible runes. I looked away as the immortals took turns filling their cups with the boar’s blood.
Careena handed Valen a golden goblet emblazoned with rubies. He lifted it to his lips and drank, then held it out to me. “Drink with me, princess. You’ve earned it.”
Queasiness climbed up my throat. “I’ll pass.”
He raised a mocking eyebrow. “You’ve drunk blood before.”
“To the hells with you, Your Highness.”
I was saved any further argument as a commotion arose at the edge of the pavilion. Gregoire, bloodstained and battered, pushed through the crowd with Lord Carmine. The huntsman wore a laurel of branches with tiny white blooms and a jubilant smile.
“To the huntsman!” Lord Carmine shouted, passing him a goblet of blood. “Who brought down the great boar on his own!”
Gregoire patted the beast lying on the stone, then held up his musket to a chorus of cheers. A deep sigh rose up from within. Of course, he’d claim the glory.
A cursory glance back at the fallen beast revealed the dark mark of a bullet hole in its thick hide. At least it had been a good shot.
Valen’s eyes narrowed on the huntsman, and he seemed about ready to open his throat as Careena had done to the boar, so I grasped the king’s hand and raised it high, calling out, “To Gregoire!”
The chorus echoed. The huntsman flashed me a grin, then raised his goblet and gulped the contents of the cup down.
Something lurched in my stomach, and I slapped my free hand over my mouth.
Valen turned me away. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
“Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “I think I might be sick.”
“Starving yourself will only make it worse. You should know that by now.” His hand slipped to the base of my back as he guided me through the pressing throng of immortals, all eager to partake in the blood ritual.
His touch blazed through the fur lining of my jacket, reminding me of what we’d shared.
Gods, I’d made a terrible mistake joining the hunt.
Long tables with rich assortments of meats, cheeses, and sweets had been set up along one side of the pavilion, each calling to me.
“Maybe I’ll have a bite,” I said.
I instantly regretted my choice of words when I saw the laughter dancing in Valen’s hazel eyes. “Mm-hmm.”
He was never going to let me forget what we’d done.
Ignoring him, I filled a plate with a modest helping of roasted venison and warm bread. “Aren’t you hungry, Your Highness?”
“What I want isn’t on the menu,” he said, taking in the crowd before flicking his gaze to mine. “At least, I don’t think it is.”
I kept my expression calm, even though my heart was pounding. “It is not, nor will it ever be.”
I nodded toward a fiery redhead who wore a long fur coat and nothing else underneath. “There are plenty of pretty blood retainers here who’d be more than pleased to service you, my king.”
He shot me a dangerous look, his eyes now a rich golden hue that reminded me of his dragon. “I’m not hungry for them.”
Just you. His unspoken words stole my breath.
I caged my emotions and focused on my food. “I guess you’ll go hungry then.”
Something had changed between us. I didn’t entirely hate him, and I was even beginning to enjoy his presence when he wasn’t being an utter ass.
Instead of abandoning me to the crowd, he lingered—like the guilt of an illicit liaison the morning after.
“What happened to the other animals that were killed tonight?” I asked, desperately needing to shift the tone of the conversation.
“They were bled and butchered right away. The meat will feed the castle and the village both. All will feast with us tonight.”
I studied him, unsure of what I saw. A cruel tyrant?
A murderous beast? Or something far more complex?
It was impossible to tell. There were moments when I glimpsed his sense of duty, even justice, yet I never knew if any of it was real, or if, like his mask, it was all a facade he put on to hide the truth. Was he playing me for a fool?
The music grew louder, the drums reverberating across the field as fiddles split the crisp night air. Couples began to dance in the open space between the feasting tables and the offering stone, their steps fast and their bodies close, as they twisted and dipped to the untamed beat.
The king set his glass down and extended his hand. “Dance with me.”
When I hesitated, he inclined his head. “Let’s put everything that happened tonight behind us. The bloodgolt is dead, its tusks won. Let’s dance to celebrate that.”
Nerves flitted through my chest, but I took his hand, and he pulled me onto the trodden grass of the dance floor.
“I was a fool to allow you to come, but I’m glad I did,” he said with an amused expression.
His smoky scent wrapped around me, stirring something dangerous inside. “Why? Because I saved you from the boar?”
He laughed, low and husky, and it was surprisingly genuine. “Saved? Maybe. Then again, I wouldn’t have found myself in that situation without your assistance.”
I opened my mouth to object, but he shook his head. “I’m glad I got to see you in your element.”
The amusement on his face had been replaced with sincerity, and if I wasn’t mistaken, a hint of respect.
I looked away. It was silly. An illusion, and yet I couldn’t stop from wondering if there was any chance he’d actually seen me—not his plaything, but a woman who’d spent years practicing with her bow, memorizing the tracks and scents of every animal that lived in the woods.
“What did you see?” I asked.
He searched my eyes, the subtle action intimate and unsettling. “More than I expected.”
To my surprise, there was no hint of mockery or false praise in his tone. I wanted to believe him, but I wondered if that was because he’d perfected the art of deception, or because his gravelly voice made my core tighten.
The song ended, and another began, born from the old. The drums pounded slowly but quickened with every beat.
Valen circled, his voice as rich as velvet. “Try to keep up.”
The challenge in his gaze woke something in me. I followed his movements, daring him to come closer. “Worried I won’t?”
A flute screamed, and the drums raced. Valen snatched my wrist and pulled me toward him, our bodies touching for the briefest of moments before he spun me, then caught me against his chest.
He lifted his brows and gave me a dangerous smile.
I pulled away from him, moving to my own beat as the song grew wild and fast. He circled, a hunter, and I twisted away until finally I let him catch me, this time around the waist, and he dragged me flush against his solid chest. We spun across the frozen earth, unhindered by the clash of bodies around us, everyone caught in their own frenzy.
My heart pounded, my breaths fast as I matched my steps to his.
Valen dipped me backward, his hand bracing my back, his mouth inches from mine. He was breathing fast, his pupils dilated, as the song met its final beat. My eyes lingered on his lips, and all I could think about was what they might feel like on mine, intoxicating and all-consuming.
The king never kissed the women he took to bed. Isolde’s words rose unbidden, and yet here I was, a breath away from proving her wrong.
Could I possibly want that? Most certainly, I would regret it at dawn. And yet…
His mouth drifted closer, and I tilted my chin to claim it—
“Warriors at the tree line!” Shouts cut through the night.
In an instant, Valen had lifted me and tucked me behind him.
“What’s happening?” I asked, my breaths short from what had almost happened.
Shouts and ringing steel echoed around us, and I twisted around as the king unsheathed his blade.
The shadowy forms of a dozen men stalked out of the woods. They wore red scaled-leather breastplates I didn’t recognize, and they looked strangely haggard, like they’d just wandered out of a battle. A few of them were limping, and others had to be supported by their comrades.
“It can’t be,” Valen said, his voice like steel.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“A debt that’s finally come due.” He turned to Locke, who’d seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “Take her back to the castle and make sure she’s guarded. She’s not to leave her room until I say so.”
“Wait, what?” I protested. “If they’re attacking, my magic can help!”
“Not with this, princess.” He nodded to the horses. “I’ll find you once this is over.”
When what was over?
He was across the clearing before I could say another word, facing down the now three dozen red-clad warriors. He’d been seconds from kissing me, and now he was leaving me?
Locke dragged me forward. I jerked against him, but his grip was almost as strong as Valen’s.
“What’s going on? Who are those men?” I demanded.
The magister’s expression was unreadable, a distant light shining in his eyes. “Fate finally delivering what’s owed. However, I doubt the king will have any interest in paying the price.”