Page 113 of The Crimson Walls Of Algorath

“My Lord hired someone new just for you,” Rene explained as he opened her suite’s doors. “By the name of Kyra. I will send her up.”

“That will not be necessary.” Alek’s voice made Emillie jump. She turned to him, heart thundering now for an entirely new reason. “Leave us, Rene.”

The butler did not so much as stammer a response. Rather, he tucked into a deep bow, then scurried away as fast as his feet could carry him without running. They were alone long before Emillie even had the thought to thank the Rusan or say her farewells.

“Come.” Alek gestured to the doors to her rooms.

Emillie followed his suggestion and entered. The majority of the suite was one large room painted mauve. The sitting area lay just before the doors with plush dark gray linen couches arranged for entertaining near the hearth. A gold chandelier hung at the center, casting thin shadows on the walls. On a dais on the far side of the room sat an enormous canopied bed with charcoal drapes held back by gold ropes. Beyond swept a bay of windows, curtains already drawn.

The door closed behind her with a quiet click. Emillie turned to Alek, who surveyed the room with a neutral expression. He nodded to a door on the right side of the room and said, “The bathing room.” He mimicked the motion to the left side. “The closet.”

She turned to him, wringing her fingers together. “Thank you for this.”

This. A separate room. Ariadne had spoken of how she and Azriel shared a suite. Likely, Alek’s rooms were set up for multiple people as well. The Lady of the House’s suite was, if she were to guess, for the Nightingale wives who were betrothed and wed without love.

“You are most welcome.” Alek turned his simmering black eyes to her and raised a brow. “Our agreement includes an heir.”

She fought back the urge to squirm. Yes, she had agreed to such things. Yes, she was prepared and willing to take him to bed to fulfill her duty as his wife. Would she be thinking of him as they consummated their marriage? Never.

“Would you like to try right away?” His tone was like a merchant’s, ready to haggle for the best deals.

Pregnancy did not come easily for vampires. There was no sign of ovulation, which lasted several weeks, until after it had passed and the woman bled. Since her transition into her fully adult body, Emillie had undergone exactly three bleeds. For a Caersan woman to become pregnant, it was almost entirely luck. No one could guess when the next ovulation period would begin. In order to be successful, they would likely need to copulate at least once a month.

Once pregnant, a Caersan woman carried the baby for one year. Longer than a human woman, yet shorter than that of the fae. It often wreaked havoc on her body with the hormones that crashed through her like waves.

Emillie did not look forward to bearing a child, though she had always dreamed of being a mother. Since one could not have the latter without the former in their Society, she long since resigned herself to carrying the next generation.

“Alright,” she said, her voice quiet. She knew what to expect when it came to sex with a man. If all went well, he could finish within mere minutes.

Alek’s nostrils flared, and he tilted his head to study her. “On second thought…”

She frowned when he did not finish. “What is it?”

“Come to me when you are ready.” Alek took a step back and opened the door again. “Enjoy your evening, Wife.”

With that, he walked out, leaving the door open behind him. Emillie stared at the empty space left behind, perplexed by the sudden shift. It had not been what she expected him to say. She had fully anticipated moving forward with her decision and had steeled herself for what was to come. For him to leave so suddenly gave her pause. And doubt.

Then the reason for his sudden departure stepped into the doorway, and Emillie almost sank to her knees.

“Kyra?”

The Rusan woman was just as beautiful as she remembered. Her fiery red hair fell in curls around her shoulder, half of it tied up in a neat twist at the crown of her head. Those perfect dark eyes sparkled with delight, and her round face split into a wide grin, putting her dimples and fangs on full display in the chandelier’s light. She wore a deep green gown that laced in the front, pushing her ample cleavage into full view. When she spoke, it was soft and enchanting as she said, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

Emillie swallowed hard. “Nor I, you.”

Kyra released a heavy breath and stepped closer. “I was afraid you’d have moved on by now. It’s been weeks, and we hardly know one another. It was foolish of me. I’m a Rusan, and you—”

Before she could think too long on it, Emillie kissed her. Kyra sucked in a small, surprised gasp, then melted into it. Her fingers tucked into Emillie’s hair at the nape and held her firm for a long moment.

When they broke apart, Emillie smiled. “If you have been foolish, then so have I.”

She reached around Kyra, sliding one hand around her waist to keep her close, and closed the door. Clicking the lock into place, she turned her attention back to the woman in her arms. Stroking back a vibrant red curl, she searched her face and said, “I look forward to getting to know you better—in every way.”

That wondrous smile returned. Kyra ran her lips along Emillie’s jaw and whispered, “Do you need help, my Lady, to get out of this dress?”

“So long as you do not plan to prepare me for anyone but yourself.” She wanted to get to know this woman, inside and out, in whatever way she could. Whether it be with their bodies or their speech, she did not care. What she did care about was the fire burning low in her belly, sparking through her with every one of this woman’s touches.

Kyra laughed, a lovely loud sound, and took her hand. Together, they went to the bathing room, where Kyra spun Emillie around to face the large, steaming clawfoot tub and began unfastening the buttons along her spine with deft fingers. Her lips trailed down her path, tracing each piece of exposed skin so that when she reached Emillie’s hips, she was on her knees.

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