Chapter 11 #3
“I am an outcast in this court because I was born with The Power,” Lanlin replies like the words are being dragged from him.
“Animalism. I am the only Blood who can shift into or control animals. When I was young, Nebet showed me visions of what happened to my kind throughout history. The Scarlet Temple have a sacred duty to hunt and kill…me. I am the monster, and she is the monster hunter. I draw what she made me relive repeatedly to make me feel sufficiently grateful that I was allowed to live because if I don’t, then it is trapped in my head.
And I can’t live alone there with their screams.”
I understand that. I wish that I didn’t.
“I’m sorry.” I wrap my wings around myself.
“I shouldn’t have looked at these. I just want you to know that you’re not alone with their screams anymore.
If you want to take revenge on those who committed this genocide of your kind simply for being born with an incredible gift, then I’m here, however I can help. ”
“You can’t mean that.” Lanlin’s voice wavers with a depth of emotion that catches me off-guard. “It is sweet of you to offer but you can’t even protect yourself here, Little Dove.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Freya crosses her arms. “I was hunted in my kingdom precisely because I couldn’t shift. Fuck people who tell us what we should or shouldn’t be. These fanatics are the raven starving dickheads. You’re safe to be yourself with us, right?”
When Lanlin sweeps toward the nest, I suddenly realize just how much bravery that takes.
In fact, how much bravery it has taken from the moment that Lanlin met us.
The monster, freak, and outcast.
All those words are what I thought would make him, as Maximinus told me, easier to manipulate.
Yet my hand shakes, when I remember the images that have been shoved into Lanlin’s mind of the deaths throughout history of his own kind.
Every time that he has trusted showing himself to Freya and me, he has trusted that we won’t treat him as that same monster who deserves to be burned alive.
Suddenly, I sniff. “Something smells nice.”
“I would say that was both of you, dearhearts,” Lanlin replies. “Did you decide to borrow my oils?”
Freya shrugs, climbing back onto the bed next to me. “You say borrow. I say steal.”
“It’s breakfast.” Lanlin elegantly perches on the side of the bed, draped in a long, glittering black robe.
His hair is pinned back from his face with diamond bat clips.
I stare at the sticky mess. “Hmm.”
Lanlin looks uncertain. “They are bat honey and date cakes. It’s my attempt. I made them myself. They’re the courting gift, remember?”
“They’re perfect,” Freya valiantly lies.
Killer and baker. He has my vote.
Lanlin’s face lights up. He snatches up a honey and date cake and holds it up to Freya. “May I handfeed you, my Omega?”
She nods, enthusiastically.
As she bites, moaning in a way that makes my cock almost manage to become hard again, I eagerly snatch two cakes off the plate and stuff them into my mouth at once.
I can’t help that I learned from my time starving in Aurelius’ dungeon to eat any food as quickly as possible, before the guards deliberately stole or spoiled it.
I munch, happily.
Lanlin quirks his brow at me. “Do fae not need to chew? Is it acceptable?”
He appears to truly want an answer to that.
I give him an honest and enthusiastic thumbs up.
It doesn’t matter what it looks like on the plate. I can never eat enough cake.
Lanlin reaches for another cake to handfeed Freya, at the same time that I attempt to sneak a third one.
I hiss in pain, as the iron tip of his glove catches and burns across my skin.
Lanlin’s face falls. “I’m sorry, my Dove.”
Freya kisses across the burn, blowing over the back of my hand.
“Then how about not bringing bloody weapons that burn fae into our nest?” I reply.
Lanlin’s eyes flash with something that I don’t understand, before he leans closer to me. “I didn’t choose to wear these gloves. Maybe you shouldn’t bring a weapon that burns vampires into our nest either.”
He pulls aside his robe at the collar to reveal a nasty burn on his shoulder. I’ve stabbed enough vampires with silver to know that it was caused by my mask. It must have been when I snuggled against him in my sleep.
I chuckle, awkwardly. “Looks like we’re poisonous to each other.”
“I’ll need to sleep between you each night.” Freya glances between us nervously. “How about you keep your distance from each other?”
To my shock, Lanlin laughs, darkly. “That’s not possible.”
This is it.
I can feel it tingling across my skin, a sense that every trickster fae has: My opportunity to make a deal.
“Then how about we make a deal?” I deliberately don’t look at Freya.
She doesn’t know about this side of things.
But she also doesn’t know that this is my scheme to get us all out of this bloody mess, hopefully alive.
“Your court don’t trust me as a fae, and I’m a danger to you even without meaning to be.
So, take me as your Blood Lover and drink from me, no commitment but my blood, and make the clear statement to the Blood Court that Freya and I are yours. ”
“I could do that anyway.”
“You could, but this way, I also promise to serve you. What do you lose with a deal like that?”
Next to me, Freya is pulling on my hand, panicking.
After all, I have already sworn to serve Aurelius and her. This way, I will also serve Lanlin.
But she should know by now that in as loosely a worded deal as this, I am not bound at all.
Neither of them knows just how powerful royal fae blood is.
Lanlin will be addicted and serving me, within days.
Lanlin’s fangs elongate on instinct. He licks his tongue over them, shaken by tremors.
He looks like he is in pain.
Lanlin’s voice is still steady, however, as he demands, “I have one condition to the deal. My Blood Lover mustn’t be weak. I expect you to be able to protect our Omega as well. Weren’t you a member of the featherglass? Then from tomorrow night, when I request it, you will train with me.”