CHAPTER 12 - BLAKE
The Drakharrow common room was full and humming with life. Just the way I liked it these days.
But this evening, I sat brooding in my usual chair by the fire. The laughter of the others was grating on my nerves.
Around me, students sprawled lazily on the floor, some of them feeding from thralls, their fangs pressed into willing necks. I watched the thralls, taking note of how blissed out they looked, lost in their euphoric haze. All brought on from their enjoyment of the bite.
I clenched my jaw and forced myself to look away. I hated watching them feed.
Not because I disapproved—this was the way it should be after all, though I’d never been one for thralls —but because it reminded me of my own predicament.
“Something weighing on your mind, House Leader?” Laurent asked, with a cocky smirk. The skinny highblood traced the neck of the thrall seated beside him with his fingers and the girl shuddered with pleasure.
“No,” I snapped. I crossed my arms over my chest and shifted in my chair, letting the sharp edge of my tone warn Laurent not to press the matter.
But Laurent was an idiot. He didn’t scare easily, even when he should. He leaned back, his smirk widening. Did he think he was ingratiating himself to me? What a fool. “You’re hungry.”
I shot him a warning glare. “Mind your fucking business.”
Laurent shrugged, clearly enjoying teasing me in front of his fellow students. “You could always join us. You don’t have to hold back. Or is the House Leader above such indulgences?”
I growled, not holding anything back as I shot forward towards him and grabbed him by the neck.
The look on his face was priceless. I tossed him on the ground and he scrambled to his feet, his face white as a sheet.
I pointed to the door and he raced towards it, not bothering to say good-bye to the girl he’d been feeding from.
I sat back down, my hands tightening on the chair’s armrests. Tossing Laurent had felt good. But I could still feel my tension building, hunger clawing at the edges of my control. It wasn’t like I’d ever been reckless with my feeding. I’d always prided myself on my restraint. I’d only used sellbloods. The way my father had taught me. No one who might be unwilling. It was a matter of honor. Drakharrow honor. Honor my uncle knew nothing about.
What would my father say if he could see me now? Or Viktor for that matter?
My jaw tightened. I was trapped. I hated this. Hated the sight of others feeding while I saw here like a neutered beast, chained to Pendragon’s rules.
Once a week, in her room, on her terms. It was humiliating.
A faint coppery tang of blood lingered in the air from the thralls. It only served to make my hunger worse. But it wasn’t their blood I craved.
I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment, remembering. Pendragons’ blood was intoxicating. Unlike anything I’d ever tasted. So rich, so potent. The first time I’d fed from her, the rush of power had been almost overwhelming, igniting every nerve in my body with fire and strength. Her blood had something to it that no sellblood or thrall could ever hope to match.
She was smooth and sharp as a blade, sweet and explosive with heat all at once. Each time I fed, I was left wanting more. Each time, I left feeling unstoppable. Like her blood could make me invincible, if only I could get enough of it.
But the high didn’t last. It never did.
I sighed restlessly. I wasn’t due to feed from her until tomorrow. In the meantime I could feel my patience fraying and my restraint slipping.
How much longer could I keep this up? How much longer could I survive like this when every cell in my body screamed for me to find her and take her now?
Thank the Bloodmaiden that my uncle and Marcus hadn’t found out about my situation. Marcus would laugh his head off at first. But then he’d do something drastic. He always did.
They’d blame me—but they’d also blame Pendragon. They’d be furious at her for keeping me on a leash. They’d want me to take steps. Violent ones. And I wasn’t about to go there. I wouldn’t lay hands on a woman. At least, not one who wasn’t already actively attacking me. And especially not my own consort.
Pendragon was still mine to protect. That hadn’t changed. At least, not in some ways.
I grimaced. I felt like I was starving. But no one would ever see me crack. I’d sooner set myself on fire than show weakness like that.
The door opened and Regan swept into the room, her silver hair falling in perfectly arranged waves, her House Drakharrow insignia embroidered meticulously onto the bodice of her red, form-fitting dress. She spotted me and I saw her eyes light up with determination as she crossed the room.
I suppressed a groan.
“Blake,” she said, smiling sweetly as she looked down at me. “We need to talk.”
I wouldn’t even meet her eyes. “No. We don’t.”
Her pretty lips thinned. She placed her hands on her hips, swaying slightly towards me. I knew exactly what she was trying to do. It wasn’t going to work.
“You’re making a mistake, Blake. You’re already regretting casting me aside, aren’t you?”
“I don’t regret anything,” I said flatly, staring into the fire.
Her lips thinned petulantly. “Look at you. Pining after her. She doesn’t even want you, does she? You threw me away for a blightborn girl who thinks she’s too good for you.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “You’re pathetic, Blake. I should be laughing at you right now.”
“Yeah?” I said, trying to sound bored. “So why aren’t you?”
Because she didn’t dare. Well, that, and she still wanted me. It wasn’t just my ego talking. I could smell her from here.
“You’re throwing away an alliance that could strengthen your house,” she hissed. “You need me.”
I looked up at her, finally meeting her eyes. “If I needed you, you’d still be part of my triad—and in my bed. I don’t need you or want you, Regan. Now go.”
Her face flushed with anger, her composure slipping once and for all. Muttering furiously, she turned and stalked away, the high heels of the ridiculous shoes she wore clicking sharply against the stone floor.
I leaned back in my chair, feeling exhausted. Everything about this day was driving me crazy. The noise, the feeding, Laurent’s stupid smirk, having to talk to Regan. Most of all, my constant, gnawing hunger.
My gaze fell on a curvy highblood girl sitting on a sofa nearby. I stared at her appreciatively. Her dress was short and had slid up her thighs, revealing long swathes of bare golden skin. The dress clung to her figure in all the right places, emphasizing her hips and ample breasts.
She caught me looking at her and bit her lower lip, giving me a flirtatious smile.
Fuck it. Fine. If Pendragon wanted to act like I didn’t exist, then two could play that game.
I beckoned to the girl.
She practically skipped over, sliding onto my lap with a breathless giggle.
The girl’s body was warm and inviting. She pressed her breasts against my chest. “Need some company, my prince?”
There. Now that was the proper deference. That was the kind of attitude I should be able to expect from my consort.
I ignore the part of me that said it was also too easy. Boring, really.
Instead, I grabbed the girl’s chin without responding and tilted her face up to kiss her, hard. She moaned softly and I felt a surge of satisfaction. I wasn’t a monster. I could still please a woman.
She tangled her hands in my hair, shifting more closely against me eagerly.
But something was wrong. It wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough.
The problem was, I was a hunter. I needed the thrill of the chase. I needed a challenge.
And there was no one more challenging than Pendragon.
The door opened, and I glanced up.
Pendragon stood in the doorway. She hadn’t noticed me yet. She was holding something in her hands. I sniffed the air. Kava. A big mug of it. Her long red curls tumbled over her shoulders. Her expression was relaxed. There was a soft smile on her lips.
The look on her face made my blood boil. Just seeing her so content while I sat there, pining for her blood like a fool.
Jaw tightening, I pulled the girl closer and thrust my tongue down her throat, making her moan again—more loudly this time.
There. That had gotten Pendragon’s fucking attention.
She met my gaze, her eyes unreadable. Then her eyes went to the girl sprawled on my lap with her skirt hiked up, practically bare-assed. I cupped the girl’s bottom, pulling her more firmly against me.
“Oh, Blake,” she gasped. “Yes.” She wriggled against me. “You wanna come up to my room?”
I looked back at Pendragon and saw her expression twist with distaste.
That was fine. I’d take it. Disgust was basically jealousy’s sister, after all.
I kissed the girl again, this time with deliberate intensity, closing my eyes and really taking my time about it.
She melted against me with a happy sigh. This was probably the best day of her life. I didn’t even know her name. But what did it matter?
I peeked my eyes open.
Pendragon was gone.
Instantly my mood soured.
I stood up and the girl on my lap slithered to the floor in a heap with a gasp of surprise.
She started to protest but the look on my face stopped her.
I growled. Loudly.
Around me, heads turned.
But I didn’t give a damn. None of them—not one—could give me what I really needed.
I stomped up the stairs to my room.
Pendragon wasn’t supposed to be able to walk away from me so easily. Turn her back on me like I didn’t even matter.
But the problem was, she just had. I knew she’d do it again, too. Over and over.