Chapter 4
FOUR
Rorrick
The court women’s eyes sparkle like they’re studyin’ diamonds when Christian walks through the quiet halls.
They look at his perfect features and his perfect clothes, and they see money signs.
They see a walking crown. Even with the blood that splatters his neck and hair.
They smile and bow for the scowling prince.
They grimace when they see me. Like finding dog shite on their Sunday slippers.
Fuckin’ royal cunts that they are, they don’t return the gesture when I smile and wink at them. Their appalled glances are all that I get.
Sometimes I think it’s because I’m the son of the old king. I’m nothing special.
Not like Christian.
But I know what I look like. I’m the monster’s son. I’m the disgraced man without a title and only a face full of scars to show for the battles I’ve fought at our borders for these classy cunts.
The throne room is quieter. Emptier. My boots are heavy and loud as I stride into the glittering room and stop abruptly before our king.
He’d kill me if Christian would let him. I’m a risk. He thinks he can’t trust my loyalty.
And he’s right.
My bow is a quick nod of my head. Christian greets him with a stiff spine and an empty expression.
“Father,” he whispers with a hidden hint of shaking fury.
As for Seven, he lowers to the ground until his nose nearly kisses the gleaming, golden floors. He does it so deeply that I want to drag him up by the arm and remind him he doesn’t belong beneath their feet.
It’s a display act. He bows low, he nearly licks the ground our king walks on, and with both hands, he presents her limp body up like it’s effortless.
It’s art. Everything Seven does is art. The black dress seems poured across her curves like water: the sweep of the fabric along her luscious thighs shifts up, her round breasts are perked high as her long throat is pulled back like an offering.
“Fuck,” I hiss like a sudden sneeze.
I hadn’t really seen her in the mortal world. I hadn’t really thought about looking at her. She’s the king’s Promise. She’s his to feed from. With the dark fae blood running through her human veins, she’ll enhance his power. She’ll awaken his senses.
She’ll completely fuckin’ distract me every goddamn time I look at her. Fucking starlight, who even has tits that nice?
I’ll never know. I’ll never fuckin’ know.
Stiffly, I glance away.
King Boris stands from his throne, and for once, it isn’t an act. No one else is here. It’s early in the evening, and the common couriers of the castle haven’t yet risen for their bloody breakfast. Dusk hasn’t fully lowered to the starlight.
It’s only the five of us in the throne room.
And the king’s normal act of strength isn’t displayed as it typically is.
His meaty wrist wobbles against the tree bark of the elaborate throne his favorite daughter made him.
The vines of the chair lift one by one to help him stand, pressing along his back to give him support that he so desperately needs.
He used to be an image of power. Now he’s old and... fat.
“And she’s the one? The half-breed of the Thorn King?”
“She’s his,” Christian states flatly. “I tested her blood myself.” He doesn’t smile when he says it. There’s no arrogance in the Prince of the Blood Kingdom.
You don’t need arrogance when you have power.
And Christian’s power... it’s terrifying. Detached. Just like him.
The king nods with a gleam in his dull gray eyes. His hand lifts as if he might clap Christian on the back, but the Prince sidesteps his father. Boris looks at him for a long moment, his hand still suspended between them.
And then he averts his attention to anyone who might treat him better than his own son. His beady eyes land on the girl.
“Perfect. She’s perfect,” he murmurs.
Bile stings at the back of my throat at the thought of his fat lips touching such a pristine thing like this girl.
I breathe calmly and think through the strange conflictin’ thoughts inside me.
I want to snap. I want to let loose all the control I constantly keep locked over myself day in and day out.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“She’s young, my lord,” I say, not able to stop myself from telling him what he surely already knows.
“Her life hasn’t yet been lived...” I leave that there, unsure what I could possibly say to make him consider not killing the girl little by little until there’s nothing left of her but sunken flesh and broken bones.
A walking corpse.
“She’ll do fine. Thorn owes us for sending his men into our festering Dark Lands.
He knows the boundaries. The Dark Lands between our kingdoms are forbidden.
We don’t disturb what lies in there. I wondered if she’d be worth anything since he didn’t seem very well informed about the girl but I’m very pleasantly surprised.
” he licks his lips hastily. “He broke our treaty, but this... this girl will be a nice apology on his part.”
The Dark Lands . As if anyone on the entire continent could tell where the boundaries are in the chaotic wild that is the Dark Lands.
Somewhere between the fae kingdom and blood kingdom, is a cursed and deadly borderline neither of us are allowed to cross.
Good luck understanding where the line is though.
“What if she’s not the right girl?” Seven asks suddenly but confidently.
The words scatter over the floors where he bows.
His voice no longer cowers. His tone hasn’t been a whisper or whimper in over a decade.
Since Christian freed him. I didn’t understand it then.
I didn’t get why someone like Christian would care about someone like Seven.
I know now though: it’s because of his mother.
“Christian confirmed she is,” the king snaps.
“Christian confirmed she is Thorn’s. His claim is in her blood in some way. That isn’t to say she’s the only half-blood descendant to the Thorn King.” Seven remains posed and presented, his body strung out taut, the hard muscles of his ribs shadowing across his side.
He’s lean but he’s strong. Stronger than he lets on. Definitely smarter than anyone ever considers him to be. And I think that’s how he likes it. Underestimating someone is the deadliest mistake sometimes.
“Another daughter, or niece perhaps…” the king murmurs deeply in thought.
He takes a single staggering step back. Quiet relief sags through the tension in my shoulders as he gives the girl more space between him and her imminent death.
“If you use the wrong girl, it will be a means for war,” Christian says, his vacant tone echoing along the walls of the nearly empty throne room.
Thorn has wanted war with our kind for as long as I can remember. Fae and vampires, it’s a prickly relationship.
The king’s gaze slides back toward the delicious redhead that all of us can smell every part of.
My cock twitches as her warm, alluring scent lingers deeply in the air.
It’s too strong. Must be the fae in her but she doesn’t smell like any fae I’ve ever met.
I can tell too much about her by her scent though.
She had too much vodka tonight. She cried recently.
She was fucked too harshly, and the scent of the fucker who used her is still fresh on her flesh.
A pain shoots through my jaw at that thought. She’s small. And the torment she has lived is laid out before us in fading bruises and smeared mascara. I don’t even know her, and I despise the fucker who hurt her.
“It could be a trap to start just that,” King Boris agrees.
He turns to his first-born son with deep pride blooming in his eyes.
Christian’s gaze locks there with his father’s look of adoration.
But total loathing is the only emotion in Christian’s silver eyes.
Some days, I think it’s the only real emotion that exists in the Blood Prince.
“You three keep an eye on our guest for now. Get her dressed in our pure white gowns. Make her look like a true Promise in waiting for me.” The king steps closer once again to his buffet of eternal life, “I’ll send a sparrow to invite the Thorn King to reunite with his lovely lifeline.
Perhaps a celebration hunt will be arranged in honor of our upstanding treaty.
” Wide and meaty fingers stroke through shining red locks, and a shiver races down my spine as I remain silent.
Unmoving. “No one shall touch her until he confirms and offers me this gift of peace.” A thick index finger glides down the soft curve of her cheek.
“And then she will be my new Promise. Forever and ever. Until the end of her days.”
My stomach turns sickly as he takes a step closer to her lifeless body. He looms over her. Seven’s arms pull in just slightly, bringing her closer to him by a fraction of an inch. No one notices, but I do... Seven’s just like us: he can’t stand to see someone weak being used.
And this girl... she’s about to be used up entirely.