Page 14 of Their Blood Queen

He wants to kill the owner of that voice.

Badly.

Whereas I want to kill Earl Rinhold.

No one should be able to hear my beast from the Dream Realm, but the occupants in the room all shift their attention to the mirror he is hiding in.

What the fuck is going on?

Before I have time to process this apparent new ability to cross realms, pain slices through my heart when the female stabs her finger. Her name scrawls out in front of my vision in perfect clarity written in her own blood.

Scarlett Nightingale.

I struggle to retain my human form before my beast takes over completely and does something that could kill us both.

She’s not ours, I tell my Dream Eater half.

It’s too late.

He growls in return, not caring about rules or contracts.

But I do.

If I lay a hand on Earl Rinhold, I am forcing the contract to prematurely end.

And anyone who interferes with a blood contract will die.

“Cain, I need you to talk to me,” Helia says as she gently squeezes my shoulder.

She towers over me now, and I look up at her monstrous form, which is rippling with spent energy. “I’m in control,” I assure her.

I’m definitely not in control, but at least I’m keeping my beast tucked away in the Dream Realm instead of transforming my body again.

Or maybe he’s staying there willingly, waiting for the delectable female to pray to us again.

Helia grimaces and drops her hand, then she does something she very rarely decides to do.

Or is rarely forced to do. Her monster is a difficult one to tame, but Helia has always rationed her energy reserves carefully.

Now, it melts into her skin as if trying to take over. Helia growls in response.

Her body shimmers and shifts as she shrinks, transforming into her human figure. It’s one I’ve only seen on a handful of occasions when she overextended herself.

She’d rather give up her monster than be controlled by it. In that regard, we are the same.

Purple shadows mist over her as she changes. She flutters her long eyelashes as she exhales, pushing away her natural form. Nipples develop on her breasts, and her horns recede as her long, luxurious hair grows even longer, draping over her shoulders. Her skin is lusciously dark but shimmers with purple hues in the right light.

The powerful wind through the broken window rips over her, making her hair fling over her body.

Normally, I’d be interested in this form of hers.

But all I can see is the redhead lingering in my dreams.

She glances at me and doesn’t seem to like what she sees in my eyes. “You’re not in control. The Dream Eater is,” she says as she snatches up a blanket from one of my couches. It’s large enough to wrap around her now small frame. “I suggest you focus on finding yourself a mate before it’s too late, Cain. And since you just forced me to accelerate my timeline, I’m going to have to find mine.”

She marches to one of the guest rooms that no female has visited in quite a long time, but she remembers where I keep the wardrobes for guests.

Or gifts.

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