Bernard neither agrees nor disagrees with me. He simply stands by my side, showing his silent support. Whatever opinion he might have, he keeps it to himself, as he often does.
The music starts up again, and the Earl finally finds his potential bride. He rests his fingers on her elbow to guide her in his steps.
I’ve already decided he won’t get to keep her.
But in the end, it’ll be Scarlett’s choice. That’s how it always works when it comes to mates.
I want her willing, or not at all.
You’re already willing, I remember, indulging in the last time I encountered her in her dreams.
Her peach-like flavor tingles over my tongue as I recall her bowed off the bed, my Dream Eater’s tongue deep in her delicious pussy.
And then my massive cock rubbing over her entire body, painting my beast’s silver cum over her skin.
When she tasted it…
I shut the memory off before I do something stupid. Like emerge from the nightmares and go on a bloodied rampage to claim her as mine in front of everyone’s torn bodies.
Earl Rinhold’s arm goes around Scarlett as I contemplate all the reasons I could justify flaying him open and painting the marble floor with his blood.
That would look pretty all over my little star.
I’ll bathe you in the blood of your enemies.
Then I’ll bathe you in my cum.
To my grave disappointment, she doesn’t treat Earl Rinhold like her enemy. Instead of pushing him away like I expect she might, she leans closer to him as if she finds comfort in the vile human.
The growl that rumbles through my chest isn’t just in the Dream Realm. It skitters along the walls and sends a nervous energy through the crowd.
Earl Rinhold seems oblivious to the very real threat of my beast desiring to rip off his head.
Perhaps he knows why I can’t.
He’s immune.
Killing him with just cause would be a viable option, but killing him to take his bride would breach the blood contract’s terms. The magic would recognize the intent and backfire.
Fucking bastard.
Bernard doesn’t make a sound at my side, but I sense his taut discomfort. He’s watching to see if I lose control.
Because if that happens again, he must report it to Helia.
Flexing my jaw so hard I swear my molars crack, I manage to hold it together. The Monster City Queen and I have a strong alliance. But if I can’t handle my role as King, I know she’ll challenge me.
Too many would die in the fight that would ensue.
Perhaps Helia, even.
Or perhaps me. We are evenly matched in many ways. I’m honestly not sure who would win in a true fight between us.
And I am not interested in finding out.
Bide your time, beast, I instruct my Dream Eater.
He doesn’t have a voice of his own. But I sense his reluctance to behave.