Chapter 2
Esiree
Fuck, fuck! Don’t stop. Keep going, just like that,” I pleaded, hoisting my leg higher around Rorik’s hip, trying my damnedest to find my pleasure. Just as we established the perfect rhythm, he had to go and open his foolish mouth.
“Do you think he’ll choose you?”
“Wh-What?” I sputtered, trying to keep the synchronicity we had just found. “Why are you asking me that now?”
Rorik continued to pump into me forcefully after I indicated I much preferred the speed and friction over the slow, lovemaking nonsense he tried when this endeavor began.
“I don’t know. I just…” He paused his movements momentarily, rethinking his phrasing. “Do you think I could get in trouble for being with a Tribute…like this?”
“You’re about to be in trouble with me if you don’t shut up and focus,” I countered, grabbing his free hand and placing it on my breast, trying to draw his attention back to more important matters.
My pleasure being the important matter. The storeroom of the noisy pub made an ideal setting for our illicit activities and served to obscure any sounds that I might make.
Might make being the operative phrase; my partner was doing a dismal job of coaxing so much as a heated breath from my lungs, let alone a moan.
I leaned forward and parted his lips with mine, offering my tongue as encouragement.
He needed stoking to stay ablaze, but with every passing second, the fire in my own blood was turning to ash.
I was already regretting him. He was a hollow choice for a final night of freedom; a desperate, clumsy hurrah before the Season claimed me. Soon, I would be forced to play the part of sacrificial bride, assuming our plan didn’t shatter beneath the weight of the king’s crown.
Who could blame me? I might never get to bed another man again, and who knows how long I’d have to spend by that corpse’s side?
Rorik thrusted in and out of me, but his movements were losing speed, and I could feel the firmness of his cock begin to wane inside of me.
I rested my head back against the wall he had me pressed against and looked toward the ceiling, cursing the heavens for this man’s inability to give me the one thing I sought before the charade began.
Just one Gods-forsaken orgasm! Was that too much to ask?
At that last thought, he slowed to a halt, withdrawing himself from me and resting his sweaty forehead against my neck.
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I just can’t stop thinking about that vampire fucking you next.”
I grabbed his chin and squeezed it tightly between my fingers, forcing his eyes to mine. “I will never fuck a vampire. Do you hear me?”
Rorik cowered a bit at my threatening tone, and it was that moment that confirmed I had chosen a boy, not a man, for my final moments of freedom.
And that mistake was my own. There was another I could have chosen, but I couldn’t bring myself to entangle my heart any further than it was.
Rorik wasn’t a risk, in any sense. He was merely a decent lay, usually subservient to my requests, and on any other night, with a little praise, would have satiated my appetite.
But not tonight. Of course, not. Instead, he was fully unfocused, knowing that I was to be a Tribute during the Harvest—an obligation he had failed to distract me from.
Revelry inside the bar, however, continued with loud music and drunken cheers.
Trying my best to salvage the interaction, I pushed his shoulders downward, indicating there were other means of getting me off even if he had lost his enthusiasm. Just as he lowered himself, I heard the sounds of someone banging on the door, interrupting our privacy.
“Es, are you in there?” My brother Ari’s deep yell penetrated the thick wooden door between his pounding knocks.
I looked at Rorik and held a finger across my mouth. Conceivably, he’d go away if neither of us responded.
“I know you’re in there. Mesnyr told me. Get your ass out here. We need to talk.”
He pounded on the door again, his frustration obvious. Defeated, I shoved Rorik aside, accepting that pleasure was not in the cards for me, and jerked my pants up off the ground, yanking them on and starting to lace the drawstring.
I looked him square in the eye, pointing a finger at him. “You had one job. One job! If I ever hear that you lied to your friends and said you once made the Queen of Devana come, I will send a horde of Vampyr to end you.”
He looked terrified, blood draining from his face, almost tripping over himself to get dressed. I opened the door and saw my brother in the hallway, waiting for me. He rolled his eyes at my disheveled state as I worked to straighten my clothes and hair.
I peeked my head out of the backroom before leaving, noticing that Rorik had become even paler from fear of my threat. “I’m only kidding… Probably.” With a farewell wink, I shut the door behind me and followed Ari to a booth in the corner of the pub.
Our close friend Mesnyr sat there, an accusatory smirk plastered across his face. I traipsed behind Ari with zero shame, mostly irritated that Mes had given me up.
“You know I may not be queen yet,” I directed at him. “But I could just as easily add you to the list of royal enemies for ousting me.”
“Shhh,” Ari warned me. “Keep your voice low.”
Ari and Mes were among the few who knew of my family’s plan to rig the Harvest.
“No one can hear us,” I argued, still slightly intoxicated from earlier in the evening. “This place is so loud. I could scream it from the rooftops and none of these sloppy drunks would remember a thing!”
“By the looks of it, you fit in perfectly with the lot of them,” Ari chided. I knew it was only the beginning of his lecture, so I sank back into the booth and put my legs up on the open seat next to mine. “Do you really want to be hungover for the trip to Enud tomorrow?” he continued.
He had a fair point. Whether by horseback or carriage, being hungover was not an ideal state for such endeavors—but my actions felt justified. They weren’t the ones being shipped off to potentially wed a vampire.
“I’ll recover; don’t you worry about me,” I teased Ari while giving Mes a fake smile.
Ari pounded his fist on the table, the impact causing ale to slosh over the edge of his mug.
“You should take this more seriously. We’ve done as much as we can to ensure your selection, but you still have to look presentable.
” He lowered his voice, pointing to the storeroom accusatorily. “And what if he smells that on you?”
“They do have an excellent sense of smell,” Mes reminded us, as if we could possibly forget the strengths of our enemies.
By now, my irritation was sobering me up, so I grabbed Mes’ cup and took two giant gulps. “If the tables were turned, there wouldn’t be an eligible female in all of Leto that you wouldn’t have fucked, so don’t sit here and judge me,” I scolded my brother in return.
His silence meant my words had hit their intended mark.
Despite my declaration moments ago with Rorik, I was abundantly aware that consummating the marriage would be an expectation.
Sometimes I thought about what my reign would be like, and I hoped other humans resided there, even if they were only servants.
Maybe I could find a friend—possibly something more.
My intrusive thoughts wandered back to Jace momentarily.
The alcohol made it harder to suppress my feelings for him.
Our paths would not cross again, not unless we won this secret war.
Better to avoid having hope of any scenarios regarding my own happiness.
My father and brother would be furious if they knew I was considering entanglements beyond the king, further risking our plans.
My homeland of Leto had never participated in the Harvest. Because of this, we knew very little of what transpired during or after.
Only rumors and second-hand accounts. I tried not to let this make me more nervous than I already was.
In the days leading up to it, I had been desperate to distract myself.
Ari accused me of “acting out” more than once.
It was unfair. Neither he nor my father could relate to my feelings. They were so primarily focused on setting the plan in motion that it seemed no one gave a second thought to my own thoughts. My father is a rationalist—brilliant and logical, rarely exploring the emotional side of anything.
For a long time, Leto simply hadn’t needed to participate in the Harvest. As I understood it, Leto had been one of the most self-sufficient territories for hundreds of years. We had no need of the Vampyr because we had never suffered attacks from the Rabids.
Thus, we did not need to submit a Tribute whenever a Season occurred. That was, until nests of Rabid Vampyr began popping up in the surrounding areas.
Initially, the stubborn citizens of Leto denied it.
Thinking they could handle these infestations on their own, they organized small militias and watch parties.
But the frequency and power of these monstrous Vampyr easily overwhelmed them.
I took another large swig of Mes’ drink to the dismay of my watchful brother.
But I was now lost beneath an undertow of memories.
When I was still in my mother’s belly, our village was viciously attacked by Rabids. Those who witnessed it said they had never seen such carnage. The outcome was swift and terrible. My mother was savagely bitten, but it was not fatal. At least, not immediately…