Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
There is no kernel of doubt that I want my night to include more than just being in this human’s presence. I twist around and straddle his hips, bringing my lips to his.
They’re sweet, laced with the lingering taste of berries. He sweeps his tongue along the seam of my lips, and I open them, needing to satisfy this rush of desire. Of pleasure seeking. Our tongues explore each other, a clash of possessiveness and passion.
His fingers wrap around the back of my neck, deepening the kiss, and I groan into his mouth.
Pulling away, he brushes a loose strand of hair away from my face. “Most divine.”
My eyes flutter closed and I tilt my head to the side as he trails kisses down my neck. He continues south, moving his lips across my collarbone while his fingers tease the swell of my breast. This man’s touch sparks such arousal that my back arches and I clench my legs, exhaling sharply.
When I open my eyes, my gaze once again lands on the king. Even with the pleasure I’m receiving, something about the way the man’s perfectly unkempt blond hair falls to one side adds to his allure. His robe is askew, and blood runs down his temples from where he had tried to remove the crown.
Pressure builds in my skull the longer my gaze lingers on him. The crowd is gone except for the two women sitting on his lap. His face is nuzzled into one of their necks while the other watches, running her hand over his chest. A grouping of scales shines in the light of the moon.
Scales. Why is that important?
Crimson trickles down the column of the woman’s neck, as he pushes against it more forcefully.
He’s not human.
Vampire.
How do I know that? Who are those women? Why do I care?
I’ve only ever cared about my needs.
Ever since…
“Another drink?” The man hands me the goblet, and I turn away from the vampire on the throne.
I take another sip of the wine, but choke and spit out the suddenly soured liquid, the sweetness replaced with a bitter bite.
“Who are you?” I sit up, that pressure ready to explode within my mind.
“I am the diversion you require.” He holds out the goblet of wine again.
“No, you’re not.” I knock it from his hand, confused.
He chuckles and leans forward, hands grabbing my waist, their warmth spreading heat to every part of my body. “Drowning in distraction—is that not what you have always needed?”
I’m momentarily stunned by his words. The truth snakes around my mind, a poison laced with freedom, slowing everything around me. It’s what I always want. But is it what I need?
Desires.
The word floats around like an antidote I can’t quite reach.
I revel in the desire and pleasure of the flesh.
Yes, this is what I need.
I don’t hide from the way I crave distraction, needing it like I need air in my lungs.
I take a breath, and relish the way the human’s erection has nothing but a thin barrier between us. I rock my hips against him, and waves of pleasure roll through me.
I exhale and look down at him. “What was I saying?”
“How much you are enjoying my company,” he says, lips against my neck. He pulls the shoulder of my robe down, peppering my skin with kisses. I roll my hips against him, adding to the friction of our contact, and a small moan escapes me.
He groans in contentment, then says, “Let me serve my queen.”
A stone drops in my stomach.
Those words shouldn’t have come from his mouth.
No. This isn’t right.
I look over my shoulder at the vampire on the throne. His mouth is still on the other woman’s neck, one hand palming her breast, while the other runs up and down the length of the second woman’s thigh. Her hand moves beneath his robe.
My nostrils flare, and something sharp and icy claws at my chest and slams into my gut. Jealousy.
Why?
I don’t know him. What I’m doing suddenly feels wrong. I get off the man’s lap and pace back and forth, dropping my head into my hands.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes, trying to figure out why I can’t make sense of anything.
“You aren’t right. None of this is. Are you even real?” I say aloud, to him, to myself.
“I am real. I just know what I came for.” He stands and grips my wrists, uncovering my face.
“Come back to me,” he says, guiding my face back to his.
My eyes widen and I back away. “I’m not yours to come back to.”
I quickly pivot away and walk toward the throne. With each step I take, the haze over my mind lessens, and the reason I’m here becomes clear.
The curse.
The third trial.
The intensity of the pull returns, pummeling me from within, like an onslaught of blows to the gut. I almost keel over as the force of the bond flows back into me, even half restored, it’s strong. The siren’s magic must be powerful to have suppressed it.
Lines from the riddle return to me. Find the bed you wish to keep.
It makes sense now.
I have spent so much time keeping the bed I made of men and liquid. It’s what I used to cope with my heartbreak and pain. Mirrors are more than what you see. What’s a mirror? A reflection of oneself or others.
That man, real or not, was a way to reflect what I had been doing to myself. I run through what the priestess said. Something about living, accepting, or overcoming our desires.
She said we each had to choose our own path—but he is my only path.
I storm up to them and yank the girl off his lap, tearing his mouth from her throat. She cries out in pain and grabs her neck. Blood streams through her fingers as she falls to the ground. The other woman scrambles away at my deathly stare.
“What right do you have to interfere with my dealings?” the king snaps, mouth pulling back in a snarl, ruby fangs on display as he stands.
I grab his hand and hold it to my chest, above my heart. “Bite me. I’m yours.”
Mikael’s eyes narrow, untrusting, but it’s not in a vampire’s nature to refuse blood from a willing source. And it seems he’s still stuck in his dream.
If he fails, we both fail.
I won’t let that happen.
I lean my head to the side in invitation. His tongue sweeps over his teeth, cleaning his fangs before gripping my shoulders and violently plunging his fangs into my veins.
A stilted scream of pain emanates from deep within my lungs. It’s nothing like the way his sensual bite feels. This is vicious, feral, and every ounce of my blood he pulls into his mouth hurts. I resist the instincts that tell me I’m in danger, that tell me to fight.
I struggle to speak as the magic in his venom flows through me, spreading a numbness that will consume my body and mind.
“Kai, come back to me,” I manage to whisper into his ear.
Mikael pulls away from me, eyes wide.
I grip my neck, sucking in air through my teeth. Damn, that really hurt.
He gives me an odd look as I step back.
I open the front of my robe, showing him the ink on my ribs, the half-unraveled tattoo of our bond.
Mikael tilts his head and blinks a few times.
A priestess appears at my side. “He has to overcome this on his own.”
“I’ll be waiting for you,” I call out to him as she pulls me away.
“Do not interfere again,” she warns.
Her hold on my arm is tight as we move along the pathways toward my room. The man I was with earlier has joined the group of people we passed. He’s still handsome—at least that wasn’t a trick—and he seems to be enjoying the rest of his night without me. At least someone is.
When we get to the entrance, she unlocks the door and firmly urges me forward. “You have done well, but you have not completed your trial. The rest can take place within this room, and it does not involve Mikael. This is something you must come to on your own.”
The door shuts, but the lock doesn’t click. I pace back and forth, knowing I should not disobey her order. It could forfeit the trial, and she already gave me the grace of a warning.
I don’t know what to do with myself as I wait for Mikael to return. Hoping my words, come back to me, were enough.
Those were my words for him, when we were on the boat and he lost control for a moment. When that human man spoke those words, I knew what I was doing with him wasn’t right.
Mikael is right. He is the one.
No matter what I have tried to tell myself, it will always be him. I love him, and I do desire him. My anger in the beginning may have been justified, but now that I know the truth, I cannot keep letting it control my future.
Mikael doesn’t deserve the burden of my hate when he was also a victim of the chaos that became our lives. I walk onto the balcony, trying to find him in the crowd of people that still linger, but I don’t see him anywhere. The throne is no longer there, either.
I go back into the bedroom and start pacing again, watching the door handle, willing it to turn.
Seconds, or minutes, or hours pass; I’m unsure.
I move to the chair, but it signals to my brain that it’s time to rest, sending rolling waves of sleepiness through me, so I stand and pace again.
Time continues to stretch on.
Unrest coils within as I wait… and wait… and wait.
The sky is brightening now, and there are only minutes until the sun rises. My nerves are running rampant. I bounce on my feet and put a fist to my mouth, biting down on my knuckles.
Warring with my nervousness is an intense exhaustion. My eyes burn and my lids are heavy, my body wanting to fall onto the bed and into the oblivion of darkness.
But I need to see him come back.
I have to do something, so I go to the bathing chamber and tear off this absurd robe, shredding the fabric. I step into the tiled corner where a chain hangs, like the one at my childhood cabin, wanting to wash off the filth from our journey here and the experience of last night.
Lathering myself with soap, I quickly scrub it all away, rubbing my skin raw like I’m peeling off a layer. The hard outer shell I had let myself develop over the centuries.
Cold water rains down when I pull the chain, and it jolts my senses back to wakefulness. Good, because he still hasn’t walked through that door. I grab a towel and wrap it around my body.
Thoughts continue to fire off the longer I wait.
Does he have to come back to our room by sunrise, or does he just have to break the trance he’s in and accept whatever his own desires were?
I think about the throne and the bones it was constructed from.
Was that because he wished to be the new vampire king? He hasn’t said anything about that.
With King Ignatus’s death, things can be different. We could leave this continent and go to the human lands. Reconnect and establish a new life there. Do I want that?
Uncertainty grips me.
I’ve been fighting against us working out for so long, that now I struggle to conceptualize it altogether.
I’m still in the guard, even though I haven’t been active.
And I run my own city. Would leaving with him be treason, and lead to us being hunted by not only vampires, but would my father and the king send people after us?
Maybe we could go back to the dragon’s island, where no one would follow.
The dragons seemed to keep to themselves. No, that won’t work. Too cold.
I’m letting my mind spiral, and I need to stop.
I’ve been so wrapped up in my thoughts, I’ve lost track of time.
A dagger of fear strikes as soft light spills through the open doors of the balcony.
Birds have begun their morning calls, chirping in repetitive songs.
I rush out onto the balcony—only to find the temple is completely empty.
It’s pristine; nothing remains of last night.
My chest heaves at the implication. I spin around and run to the door, gripping the knob and twisting it. I drop my forehead against the door. I’m not supposed to leave. She told me I could finish the trial from here.
Calm down. Breathe.
He’s coming back.
I need him to come back.
My knees start to give out, and I throw my arms out to catch my balance. The weight of exhaustion finally forces me to give in and go to the bed, discarding the towel. I slide underneath the linens and curl my knees into my chest, holding the blanket under my chin, eyes fixed on the door.
I only have one thing left to try. To myself, to the temple and the priestesses who preside over this place, I speak aloud the things I’ve admitted within.
“I let myself be so consumed by anger and grief that I fell hard into vices. I refused to admit they were killing me from the inside out. I no longer accept that as my fate. Mikael is the other half of my soul; my mate. I can no longer deny that I need, no… That I want him at my side.”
I’m met with silence.
The doorknob does not turn, the door does not swing open.
Harsh, bright light from the sun’s rays spill into the room.
He’s not coming.
A single tear rolls down my cheek as I finally let the sweet horror of sleep take me.