Page 33 of To Bleed A Kingdom

“Stop waking me up like that and I'll stop biting,” Amara replies groggily.

“Vicious little creature,” he mumbles.

Rolling to my other side, I find Zander sucking on his finger while glaring down at where Amara is snuggled up in her bed.

Always quick to forgive, he releases his finger with a pop and smiles brightly as he makes his way toward the door.“It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining. Birds are singing. It's time to seize the day!” We both stare blankly at him and he huffs while opening the door. “I’ll leave you two ornery females to dress in private.” Stepping over the threshold, he murmurs, “Must be that time of the month again.”

Amara quickly snatches a figurine off the bedside table and whips it at his head. His eyes widen and he squeaks as he slams the door shut, leaving the statue to shatter against the wood.

I wonder if I’ll be charged for that?

If anything, Amara should charge the innkeeper for relieving her of such a frightful piece. Frankly, it was a bit terrifying sleeping next to the doll-like figurine with a demonic smile. I swear its ungodly eyes were cataloging every one of my weaknesses, imagining all the ways it could murder me in my sleep. Unable to hold that porcelain stare for long, I spun its face towards the wall several times throughout the night, but every time I reopened my eyes… there it was. Watching me. The first time I woke and saw its creepy doll eyes, I swear I peed a little. At that point, I debated hiding it beneath the bed, but then I thought of how it would stare up at me through the mattress and that concerned me even more.

Holding onto the mantra that one should never take their eyes off the enemy, I thought it best to keep it within view.

Praying to Azazel himself that the evil doll won't resurrect itself, I watch the porcelain pieces skate across the wooden floor of the tiny room. When the remaining slivers pass the cool hearth and tattered privacy screen to clank against the lone wardrobe, my fear lessens and I determine its regeneration unlikely.

Stretching my arms above my head, I say, “I slept like the dead.”

Even if the bed is lumpy and smells of mildew.

“I did, too.” Eyes twinkling in mirth, Amara smirks. “After you finished twiddling yourself, that is.”

I choke on my spit. “I was not twiddling myself!”

She laughs. “I heard you.”

How did she know? I barely made a sound!

“You were asleep,” I accuse. “Snoring!”

She shrugs, her shoulders lifting past the blanket’s frayed hem. “You're noisy when you play with yourself. You make these soft little whimpering sounds.” She cackles. “I was just waiting for you to scream, ‘Darius, oh, Darius!’”

Able to see the humor even in the face of my embarrassment, I chuckle along with her and roll onto my back, staring up at the peeling wood of the ceiling.

Amara isn’t far off in her assessment. I had to bite my lips to stop Darius’ name from rumbling past them. Watching him walk away, I assumed the need would lessen with distance, but unfortunately he consumed my thoughts. I would've normally found a bedmate or at least waited to touch myself until I was alone, but my reaction to him was too intense to ignore.

I sigh. “It's just been too long.”

Still smiling, she says, “I bet Darius could help with that.”

I’m sure he could.

The memory of his cock pressed against my belly flashes before my eyes, but I quickly kick it aside. My reaction to him may be intense, unusually so, but that's not why we're here, and such emotions could be dangerous. Not only for myself, but for him as well. Best for me to steer clear of him and allow whatever flame he kindled to wither and die.

“Not him. Someone who's a bit less…memorable.”

“With the way he was glaring at any male who glanced in your direction, I'd wager you'll have a difficult time finding a willing partner.”

“Hmph.”

We lay there silent for a time, lost in our own thoughts. When enough time passes without a sound, I begin to suspect Amara has fallen back asleep until she suddenly whips the blankets off and springs to her feet.

“We're going to Aurora's shop today!” She lunges towards me and grips my shoulders, shaking me violently. “Get up, get up, get up!” With one last shake, she races toward her trunk and flips the lid.

I grunt and tug the blankets over my head.

“I know we can’t carry weapons here, but maybe Aurora will let me touch one,” Amara prattles over the sounds of rustling fabric as she rummages through her trunk. “Or hold one! Just for a second. I miss my blades.” She whimpers, then sucks in a gasp. “Maybe I'll just take one? Slip it into my boot? You know… just a small one,” she says, as if stealing something small isn't considered theft.

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