Cravings
Matilda returned to their shared bed chambers and wasn’t surprised to find Luka sitting impatiently by the bed with a goblet of blood and her warm milk and cinnamon by the bedside.
“Do I want to know?”
“No,” she replied, crawling onto the heap of furs.
“Let us converse.”
“Are we not conversing?” she questioned, accepting and sipping from the cup. She winced when the sweet milk touched her tongue. It tasted spoiled to her, but she knew from smelling it that wasn’t the case.
“I shall rephrase. I shall speak, and you shall listen without interruption.”
“Without interruption,” she repeated, replacing the cup on the table.
“Is your milk not to your liking?”
“It is… not appetizing,” she confessed gently. “But I am more interested in what you must say.”
Her lips folded when her soon-to-be husband drank from the chalice. A drop of blood rested at the corner of his lips, and she nearly drooled when it dripped down his chin. She hadn’t realized she was gravitating towards him until he dabbed at the blood trail with a black silk handkerchief.
“Not appetizing, you say? Would boar stew appease you?”
“Not at the moment, my King. Please converse.”
“I am King Luka Alesi of Night Falls, am I not?”
“You are.”
“And you will be Queen Matilda Alesi before the week’s end, will you not?”
“Unless there is another assassination attempt or challenge, then yes, I will be.”
“Wonderful. I am aware that you tend to take a more hands-on approach to your queenship.”
“I do. I am horrible at playing the harpsichord.”
The corner of his lips twitched. “No, my Queen, you are not touched with the gift of music and melodies. More so blood, gore, and weaponry.”
Matilda eased against the pillows and waited for her beloved to get to the good part.
“I am growing weary, my King,” she mumbled in a pitiful tone that didn’t move him. He knew her well enough to know she was trying to manipulate him. He snorted when she dramatically threw her arm over her face.
“Since you are weary, I shall not keep you long. You seem to have an agenda.”
“An agenda?” she questioned, dropping her arm and meeting his accusatory gaze.
“What have you planned for David? And please don’t insult my intelligence with your denials. I know every move you make, Matilda. You do not have the authority to release David from imprisonment.”
“You have spies on me,” she accused.
“Always.”
“Who? It is not Ezra who told you.”
“Their identity will remain cloaked. I am your king, huntress, and you’ll do as I command. You will not play political games behind my back. You do not possess the experience, authority, nor tact to make such decisions. One false move on your part can send us hurtling toward war.”
“Are we not on the precipice of war?” she questioned.
“We are; however, your involvement shall be nonexistent. Your only job is to keep you and our child safe.”
“What if I said we could avoid going to war?”
“Then I would say you are delirious.”
“May I change your mind?”
“It will only be in vain.”
“Beta David has been abandoned to suffer unspeakable horrors by his enemies. His Alpha didn’t bother to save him from a grisly fate. What did he do instead? He erased him, stole from him, and promoted a less-deserving wolf to his rank without so much as a blink of an eye.”
Luka endured Matilda’s theatrics with a weary look. “Is that what you told him?”
“It is the truth.”
“It’s embellished.”
“It’s the truth nonetheless. We can avoid war if we assist David on his quest to usurp Prince Lykaon from his throne.”
Luka’s brows quirked. “Do you know what that would entail?”
“Aye. David must challenge every ranking wolf and win before battling Prince Lykaon for his throne.”
“What makes you think he will agree to this?”
“His pride and the devastating effect of betrayal by someone he would’ve once laid down his life for.
It is not pleasant to discover you are replaceable.
We can adopt David into our fold and restore him to his former glory.
We shall have him sign a peace treaty preemptively.
If he wins, our lands will be at peace.”
Luka considered Matilda’s proposition. It could work, but he was still hesitant.
“If he refuses?”
She shrugged. “We kill him.”
“And if he betrays us and feeds information to Prince Lykaon?”
“What is there to tell? Nothing exciting happens behind these palace walls or in your war room.”
If only she knew.
She’d be surprised to know there were whispers of an uprising from the noble vampire families due to the fall of the House of Marquis.
Luka had dispatched his spies to watch and gather as much information as possible before the wedding.
He had no doubt that last-minute challenges for the queen’s throne would arise.
He’d have them struck down if he gathered a whiff of intent to challenge Matilda.
“Nothing exciting to you. What if, by some miracle, David does dethrone Prince Lykaon but does not honor the peace treaty?”
“We negotiate or go to war, but at least we’ve bought ourselves some time. It’s clear that Prince Lykaon is on the defensive, waiting for us to make the first move.”
“And what if all of this has been an elaborate ploy on their part?”
“It’s a possibility, but that would’ve also been a big gamble on their part,” she answered, voice slightly faltering.
Luka drank from his chalice again. When he lowered the cup, he noticed how intently Matilda stared at it. He was confused when she licked her lips as if Armando had placed a basket full of garlic rolls before her.
“Tilda?”
“Hm?” she hummed, never taking her eyes off the blood.
“Would you like some?” he offered, holding it out to her.
“W-would I like some?” she stammered. “What a ridiculous question,” she said, laughing nervously.
“I see. You have given me something to consider. I shall speak with David. I’ll return. Rest well, my Queen.”
He kissed her gently and wasn’t surprised when she shoved her tongue in his mouth. She groaned as she viciously swirled her tongue, licking the remnants of the blood off the walls of his mouth. She sucked his tongue and licked the rim of his lips before pulling away with a profound sigh.
Luka blinked at her owlishly. She’d never kissed him so passionately before, not even when his venom was surging through her veins.
“I shall rest now.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you at supper, my Queen.”
Luka left the bedroom and closed the door, leaving a tiny crack to observe her.
His mouth dropped in horror when she snatched the cup from the table and downed the remainder of the contents.
She gulped hungrily, spilling blood down her chin.
She lowered the chalice and used her fingers to clean the inside and bottom of the glass, shoving them in her mouth with a delighted moan.
She licked the cup’s rim and tossed it away, satisfied that she’d gotten every drop.
She wiped up any spillage and loudly sucked her fingers.
Luka gawked when she sucked on the top of her dress, desperately trying to wring out the blood that dripped onto the fabric.
“I need more,” she whimpered, frantically reaching for the cup again. Luka closed the door and pressed his back against it. One thought popped into his head.
Has the child turned her?