Chapter 10
TEN
Crymson
I have to be quick to follow behind his storming steps.
“Is it Christian?” I ask a bit breathlessly as we wind around the corner to the second-floor stairs.
“No. My men would have known before he even stepped a fucking foot across the Dark Lands.”
I nod, taking that fun fact in.
“So, it’s an enemy?” I ask, and I’m taking the stairs two at a time and still losing him as he enters the entry foyer and storms toward the grand front door.
“All vampires are enemies,” he says through grinding teeth and grips the golden handle hard before ripping the door open with all his rage on full display.
Only to be met with the most charming smile looking up at us.
“Crymson!” she cheers from beneath a thick black umbrella that she holds tightly in her hands despite the clear cloudless day.
The small vampire has to angle her head to see around Thorn’s massive body, but she spots me and gives a little wave from around his right wing. My mouth falls open at the sight of the blonde Princess that stands exactly on the threshold of the door.
“May I come in?” she asks with bright eyes and a wide smile.
“No.” Thorn answers flatly.
Her smile wavers, caught off guard for possibly the first time in her royal life.
“Please?” she adds sweetly like that might change his mind.
His arm swings forward, and he has nearly closed the door on the Blood Princess before I lunge forward to stop him. We both hold the large door handle in our palms, neither of us giving in.
“Thorn,” I hiss at him.
The hard line between his heavy brows never leaves.
“What?” he hisses back.
“Let. Her. In,” I demand of him.
There’s a war passing behind his hard glaring eyes. He did once say he’d give me anything, didn’t he? Seconds slip by between our stares, his firm and unyielding, mine big and pleading.
“Fuck,” he hisses before swinging open the door once more. “Please, do come in, Princess,” he says like the perfect gentleman.
I practically bounce forward on happy steps to greet her. Her long arms wrap around me, and the rustle of the sleek umbrella falls to the floor somewhere behind me.
Two large and imposing men stare at the two of us where they stand on the doorstep, wielding their own dark umbrella. They appear to be some sort of escorts or guards for the Princess. Whoever they are, I barely get a glimpse of them before the large door is closed firmly in their faces.
My teeth close, and my lips do an awkward hesitant pause as I wait for Princess Delilah’s outrage for her men.
But she only beams up at me when she finally takes a step back and takes me in.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I say, secretly terrified that something’s happened back at her court that she hasn’t yet told us about.
“I know! I thought I’d never see you again!” Her eyes shift over the entryway room and the few maids and warriors who are now slowly filling the space.
They saunter into the room one by one. It’s like they can smell her. One moment, it was just the three of us, and now . . . dozens of fae fill the room, lingering and prowling around the Princess with shifting eyes and murmurs of words I can’t quite hear. But I bet she can.
“What brings you here, Princess?” Thorn asks with a slow fold of his arms across his broad chest.
A pain shoots through my skull from how hard I roll my eyes at his petty big-man stance he’s giving the small girl.
“Just passing through.” She smiles at him, a toothy vampiric smile that only shoves a heavy sigh of annoyance from his lips.
“Right,” he whispers.
“Sir, do you need any assistance?” The Warrior, the one who’s always halfway up Thorn’s ass on the daily, steps near the King’s shoulder.
Though he can’t stop staring at Delilah, he also seems to know better than to ask directly if his King would like him to get rid of the girl who may very well be my only friend in all the Dark Lands.
“No, that won’t be necessary, Airen,” Thorn replies.
“Actually, I have a ton of bags in the carriage. Would you be so kind as to bring them in?” Delilah beams up at the man, and it isn’t lost on me how long her gaze lingers on Airen’s naked chest and broad wingspan.
For the first time, I notice how different the men here are in comparison to the Blood Kingdom.
Every male in this court has a body that’s been trained for battle, a blood lineage that breeds .
. . killers. I suppose when you’ve been fighting to survive for generations, genetics are bound to kick in eventually.
“You want the Captain of the King’s guard to fetch your luggage?” The Warrior asks with a level tone.
“It would be such a help, Airen,” she replies sweetly, and her small hand briefly touches his arm like a kind gesture of manipulation.
But his deep green eyes linger on her hand, shifting from her touch to her eyes, her lips, and more. His lips quirk at the corners just slightly. A small smile, almost like flirtation, slips over Delilah’s features, and it suddenly feels like the entire room is imposing on their moment.
Until a gruff voice clears, and the King says, “Airen, get the bags.” A beat passes before Thorn adds like an afterthought, “please.”
Airen nods and quickly pulls his gaze away from the bewitching vampire.
“Of course, My King.” But as he slips between us to the door, Delilah bends and hurriedly grabs her umbrella and trails after the Warrior, leaving all of us to watch the two of them go.
“So much for missing you,” Thorn whispers with a smirk.
“Well, it is hard to compete with the charm of fae men, isn’t it?” I peer up at him with another roll of my eyes, but the beaming smile lines around his eyes kills the pettiness inside of me on sight.
His big hand quietly slips around mine. He catches me off guard just like that. One moment, he’s the most annoying male I’ve ever laid eyes on, and the next . . .
My stomach flips, and my heart stammers, and fuck my inability to properly come up with a snarky retort anymore.
Dinner that evening is the most enthralling charade of etiquette I’ve ever sat front row to.
“You really don’t have anything else?” Delilah asks, her red-rimmed gaze staring down at the plate of food that’s piled high before her.
Steaming mashed potatoes, buttery veggies, hot dinner rolls, and mouthwatering desserts line the massive table between us. She sits opposite of me, both of us just to the side of the King himself, while other advisors and courtiers decorate the chairs on all sides.
The King arches a brow and simply shakes his head at her as he chews.
“That’s quite alright,” she says with a brilliant smile.
My shoulders sag with the relief that she didn’t once ask for blood for dinner. So, I guess that’s good. Awkwardness averted.
But then, she fidgets under the table, her eyes intently focused on something within her gown that no one else can see.
Every set of eyes holds on the small Princess.
A sloshing of liquid sounds, and everyone waits with bated breath.
A metal flask with the letter D etched elegantly across the middle is set to the side of her plate.
Then she lifts a large metallic goblet from beneath the table and raises it with a smile. A toast of sorts. She nods, but when no one else lifts their cups, she takes a big sip and then looks back to me . . . with a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth.
The King passes me a knowing look.
She swings her attention back to the head of the table like she didn’t just smuggle blood into a fae kingdom. Thorn eyes her. She smiles. He glares.
“Could Airen possibly join us?” Delilah asks, patting delicately at her blood-stained lips after the smallest sip from her personal ironclad wine glass.
Like, where was she even storing these items on her person?
“No,” Thorn replies flatly from his massive chair at the head of the long dining table.
“How were your travels?” I ask instead, redirecting the topic of conversation to something a bit safer.
“Oh, I ran into a bit of a delay at the border crossing. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Another dazzling smile.
“A delay?” the King repeats, shifting in his chair to lean closer to the Blood Princess.
She waves her hand this way and that but ultimately shakes her head.
“’Twas nothing,” she says with a tinkling laugh.
Thorn’s heavy sigh stings the air because he and I and every single person seated at this table know the delay the Princess is referring to is his line of defense against the ruthless vampires of the Blood Kingdom. And they didn’t stand a chance against this petite little woman.
She takes another happy sip of her drink, and she sways lightly in her chair to a song no one else can hear.
“How’s your brother?” Thorn asks pointedly as he takes a large bite of steak and chews lazily.
“Very well indeed,” she says, her crimson-kissed eyes beaming over at the Fae King. “He sends all his love and prosperity to Crymson. He said he wished he could have come but perhaps another time.”
Thorn’s jaw pulses with a rage that he’s concealing rather well given the circumstances. Dinner with an enemy vampire and not a drop of blood has been spilled. Well, almost not a drop.
Delilah pats at the corner of her lips once more. She smiles charmingly at me, and I honestly can’t help but smile right back. She’s a vision of perfection. A sweet little angel.
And the King’s biggest pain in the ass.