Terms and Conditions
She was covered head to toe in blood, and to him, she was the most erotic being he’d ever laid eyes on. Her dark eyes swam with contentment from the blood and hunger for him. His patience had ebbed to a thin thread, and if she kept looking at him as if he were her entire world, he’d snap.
Matilda grunted when Luka ripped the front of her bodice, exposing her swelling breasts to the soft flicker from the wall sconces.
She closed her eyes when his fingers, still cold from the elements, smoothed across her blood-caked cheeks down to her neck.
He grazed the ruby medallion that rested against her bosom and paused to feel her heartbeat thump in rhythm with his own—slow, steady, and tortuously loud despite the whipping winds outside their window and the crackling from the hearth.
Her teeth sank gently into her bottom lip as she attempted to hold back a moan.
“Do not silence yourself,” he urged, wanting to hear her fall apart from the most tender of touch.
“Your tongue is quite devious,” she whispered, grasping a handful of his long locks. He chuckled and trailed his tongue over a peaked nipple. He gently suckled while tweaking the other between the soft pads of his fingers.
“Is this a complaint?”
“Never,” she whispered as her dress and the remainder of her undergarments hit the floor and fanned out around her ankles.
Luka continued his journey, briefly stopping to nuzzle his child with his nose.
He rested an ear against the noticeable swell and listened to the second heartbeat that came from her.
It was music to his ears. No instrument in their world could rival the melodies of the whooshing sound of amniotic fluid or the hummingbird flutter of a tiny heart.
Matilda remained silent and cradled his head against her belly.
She allowed him to have his moment for however long he needed it.
She understood very well how he could lose himself in wonder because she was no different.
Sometimes, she daydreamed about the life growing inside of her.
Would it be a boy or a girl? What will their name be?
Who will they take after? Will they be a fierce hunter like their mother or a broody, dull being like their father?
Will they bring about peace to the lands?
But more importantly, will she be a good mother?
“I’ve been thinking,” Luka announced from below, pulling Matilda out of her reverie.
“That’s never good,” she said, laughing softly as Luka gently caressed her stomach.
“What do you think of the name Leopold?”
“I despise it, my King, and you knew I would when you thought it.”
He sighed. “I know.”
“How do you feel about Draco?” she suggested.
“It sounds menacing.”
“That’s the point.”
“It is a contender.” Matilda smiled, knowing she’d more than likely get her way. “And for a girl?”
“That was the name for our girl.”
Luka snorted and shook his head. “We will not name our potential daughter Draco.”
“Do you have something better?”
“What do you think about Denalia?” Matilda perked up at the suggestion. “I take your reaction as pleasing.”
“I do not detest it. Have we come to an agreement? Draco or Denalia Alesi?”
“We have, my Queen. However, there might be a slight name change for Denalia.”
Matilda’s head snapped down, and she studied her lover as though she’d misheard him. “What do you mean by this?”
“We must speak,” he said solemnly, bringing himself to his feet.
“What did you do, vamp? You did something that’ll make me want to rip your heart out of your chest and devour it in front of the dying light of your eyes, didn’t you?”
“That sounds horribly unpleasant, and it is clear that you’ve fantasized about ending my life so tragically.”
“Once or twice,” she confirmed. Luka’s pained expression prompted a warning. “Tread lightly, my King.”
“I apologize, but this is not a treading matter, nor was this decision made without thorough consideration.”
“Speak your deceit quickly, for my patience no longer exists.”
“Very well.” To say Luka was fearful of his bride-to-be was an exaggeration; however, he knew he wouldn’t escape her wrath unscathed. “David agreed to your proposition of usurping Prince Lykaon.”
“He’d be simple not to. It is a wonderful proposition.”
“Agreed. Nevertheless, he had his demands, if you will.”
“Let us hear them.”
“He wishes his crimes against the crown pardoned,” he revealed.
“That’s reasonable.”
“There is more.”
“Get on with it.”
“He wants the land I offered to lease to Moonshire given at half cost.”
“That’s reasonable.”
“There is more.”
Matilda swallowed around the slow-forming ball of dread in her throat. She knew his following statement would result in an open chest cavity.
“He demanded the unification of our bloodline.”
“The unification of our bloodline,” Matilda repeated slowly. “The unification of our bloodline.” And then it hit her. “Luka,” she whispered. “You didn’t.”
“Aye.”
“You didn’t promise our unborn child to the wolves.”
“There is no guarantee. We may have a son, and David has a daughter. Furthermore, he could die in combat as he attempts to assume the throne.”
Matilda crossed their bedchamber and plucked her crimson robe off a hook.
“I’m fully aware that you are King of Night Falls. That is quite apparent. And that title gives you dominion over all who reside under your diabolical reign.”
“Diabolical?”
“I apologize. Allow me to rephrase. And that title gives you dominion over all who reside under your dictatorship.”
“‘Tis slightly better, I suppose,” he murmured.
“Regardless, I should not fall into that category. Y-you can’t make such a decision without consulting me!”
“You make decisions without consulting me all the time. In fact, you put this in motion.”
“This is my fault now?” she growled.
“Why must blame be assigned? Arranged unions between enemies have happened for centuries. It is possible it would have come to this eventually. As royals, sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”
“Truly? Because I thought as royals all you do is put your oppressive foot on the hopeless’ necks!” she seethed.
“You are a royal,” he reminded her.
“Not yet.”
“You will be.”
“Perhaps I will not marry you,” she suggested as she paced the length of the enormous bedroom suite. Luka was amused by how the fabric fluttered and swished across the floor. Her fiery disposition and voluptuous body also turned him on, as always.
“The dungeon has a vacancy,” he warned.
Matilda gasped. “You cannot help yourself. You will be vile until your very last breath,” she accused.
“Life would be rather mundane if I weren’t. But you are aware that I am only jesting, and you are posturing. We will be married by the week’s end—end of discussion.”
“And you know this how?”
“My heart is still beating in my chest.”
“Barely,” she huffed. “You should have consulted me about handing off our offspring to them.”
“For the next offspring, I will,” he said in an amusing tone.
“There will not be a next offspring.”
“Why not?”
“So that they may avoid the auction block. The next offspring might be offered to a dragon.”
Luka joined Matilda at the center of the room and put a finger to her lips.
“Do not speak so casually of dragons. We live in peace only because they blessed it so. When the skies darken, not from the setting sun, but from the belly of the winged beasts, then all hope is lost for all of us—royal or peasant alike because there will be no escaping them.”
Matilda gulped. She’d heard whispered stories about dragons and the Great War that happened far before her time, but the subject was so taboo that it’d be considered a crime to speak of dragons publicly.
Ancient texts about the Great War existed; however, rumors said they were locked away and heavily protected.
Matilda placed her hand on Luka’s chest and spread her fingers. Initially, he flinched. The threat of having your heart ripped out would put anyone on edge. Eventually, he relaxed under her warm palm.
“I am not pleased by what you’ve revealed or that I was not included in this discussion; however, if you are certain unifying our bloodline with the wolves will bring peace and save our people from war, then I will trust you.”
Luka’s shoulders slackened in relief but tensed seconds later when his beloved smiled at him. “If those flea-bitten wolves mistreat my adult child in any way, do know that I will scorch Moonshire to the ground. Do we have an understanding?”
He nodded. “I expected nothing less. We have an understanding.”
“Lovely. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the galley. The baby is stuffed, but Armando prepared sweet cream rolls, and I must get my hands on one or two or three of them.”
“Six. You will eat six,” he said, grabbing a more tasteful robe from the wardrobe, wrapping it around her, and tugging the belt tightly.
“Three would have sufficed, but six might be more realistic.”
“David begins training with Ezra tomorrow. Shall I let him know that you will be in attendance?”
Matilda chuckled. “Is this your olive branch?”
“Nothing would keep you away.”
“Gracing them with my presence would be the highlight of their day, wouldn’t it?” she teased.
“I cannot speak for them; nevertheless, you are the highlight of my days and nights.”
Matilda sighed. “You’re such a romantic. But I guess you must be since you are so unsightly.”
Luka balked. “How dare you call me ugly.”
“You should make me pay for such a transgression.”
A sinister smile spread on his lips.
“I shall.”
“In the galley?”
“On the great dining hall table?” he suggested.
Matilda shuddered at the thought. “The last one there is a rank troll!” She shot down the hall and gawked when he flew overhead, leaving her behind. “That’s cheating!”
“Make haste, my rank troll.”