Page 22 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

But she needed something tonight—a distraction. It had been a while. What was a lot of fun and a little danger mixed into one evening?

A fucking good time, that’s what.

She leaned in too. “If you go out the back exit and wait”—she bit into her lip seductively—“I would be happy for you to take a sip of my room temperature.”

“Even though you are a wolf?” His brow danced up.

Breighly had heard sex with a vampire was incredible, and the bite a rush of pure stardust. Exhilaration. She didn’t care if prime law thought it immoral.

“I have no mate, and I am not spoken for,” she reassured him. “You won’t have any trouble from the wolves in here. I run this place.”

The vampire took a step back from the bar, a keen smile on his lips, before getting lost in the crowd.

“Hey, Jett,” she shouted over the crowd, signalling to one of the wolves who was standing guard of the door. If anyone caused a scene, Jett was one of their biggest wolves and he’d sort them right out. “Cover for me; I will be back soon. I have an errand to run. If my brothers come looking for me, I have a meeting with a syrup supplier.”

Jett’s black curls made their way through the crowd, and he leapt over the bar.

She rolled her eyes. “Did you really have to do that?”

He smiled a boyish grin. “Of course. I will keep guard of your castle until you’re back, princess.”

“Thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek. “You are my knight in shining armour.”

He laughed, his amber eyes shining like two coins. “I don’t think you will ever have a knight in shining armour, Bry.”

She laughed back at him, looking over her shoulder as she moved from the bar. “You know me so well.”

Before taking the back exit into the alley, Breighly made sure her lips were painted dark pink and her neckline was more plunging than before. Pulling open the door, she felt the hot thickness of the air smack her face and she pulled in a husky breath. It was already hot in La Luna, but by the Gods, it needed to thunder over Huntswood and break this air. It was unbearable, and it had been building for weeks. When she was in wolf form earlier, she couldn’t wait to get out of her fur, and that wasn’t like her. She loved the summer solstice, but the temperature could ease up just a little.

Taking a few steps out into the night to look for lover vampire, Breighly halted when she heard the sounds of a heated argument and a possible struggle. Her feet pounded the dirt track of the market alley until she reached where they kept the empty bottles and trash.

Artem Stryker stood against the backdrop of the market tents, every pound of sheer muscle tense, threatening. He had his large hand around a blade that was directly pointed at the vampire’s throat. His gold-flecked gaze met hers, and for a second, a crackling in her heart sent butterflies into her stomach. But she grabbed control of herself before she let anyone see her surprise. Before she could go spiralling down that road where thoughts often led to him.

“Oh, there she is.” His stupid, upbeat, sarcastic voice knocked the air from her lungs, and as he turned to face her directly, she could see all of the smug grin that was pulling at his mouth.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” she asked in a higher pitch than what she would have liked. The vampire watched her from behind the blade that was still pointed at his throat, his teeth bared. “Put that weapon down. Now! Artem, now!”

“Indeed, I will not.” Artem lifted a perfect brow. “This creature said he was waiting here for you.” His eyes glittered as he watched her. “This vamp”—he pointed the silver blade closer to the vampire’s neck, and he hissed.—“claims that he is waiting here to drink from you.”

How dare this big fucker just show up here, waving blades at her new friend? Silver blades could seriously harm a vampire. Who did he think he was? Her boyfriend?

Breighly held her chin up. “His claims are correct. You can put down your blade.”

“What?” It was then that Artem lowered his blade, his eyes narrow. “You were going to let him drink from you?” The warrior’s voice was low and rough, and it stirred that wolf inside her to life in a different way.

“You heard me.” She squinted at him. “I can let him drink from anywhere I want.”

It had been a while since they had been together, almost a whole moon cycle since the last moment of weakness that she’d had with Artem Stryker. Sometimes he just appeared randomly, or if they saw each other at an event, it always led to them taking off their clothes and getting lost in each other. It was always feral, and pure need. Sort of magnetic.

But it wasn’t going to happen this time. It was never going to happen again. After the last time, they had sworn to each other after three rounds of blissful, passionate fucking that they were drawing a line in the sand.

It was for the best.

She didn’t need any more mess. Her life was a mess.

Fuck, she barely even liked him. He was smug and prideful and always the one to say the wrong thing. Plus, he was the chief commander’s son, second-in-command of his stupid clan, which meant he soon had to find a nice witch to make more stupid hunters with.

But damn, was he not as handsome as Thorin himself—if the God had a nose ring and was covered head to toe in ink. Standing in the alleyway covered in blood from the hunt, he looked murderous. Ugh, why did that give her forbidden tingles?

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