Page 193 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

For a moment, her Savage Prince stared with mirth and primal hunger. Tendrils of Smokeshadows rose from his shoulders as sharp teeth glistened when he addressed her,looking at Ladomyr, “Which would you prefer, my lady? The fool or this one?”

Alora held true that face of royalty. Smug and stiff. Leveling an uncaring glare at Ladomyr, and sneered, “For what you did last evening?”

Garrik’s murderous gaze whipped to her.

Easy, mighty prince.

She was certain a bald head would roll down the steps as he thundered,He was warned not to touch you. What did he do?

He cornered me in a hallway. Ezander distracted him so I could leave.

He bared his canines at Ladomyr, but Alora decided, “The fool.” Then nodded toward the king. She debated forcing him to kiss Garrik’s boots but instead suggested, “Give him the night to prepare. He can play the fool at dinner tomorrow.”

Garrik’s answering growl shot pleasure between her thighs. His boot scuffed the shattered glass and wine as he prowled to her. Garrik swiped his boot, splashing Ladomyr’s legs before he commanded, “Clean this up.”

Ladomyr dug his boots into the dais while Garrik perched on the armrest. Shadows gathered in his hand until a filled glass sat in his palm. Oblivion for eyes watched the king as he offered it to Alora with a sinister smirk at the mere fact that he could refill her glass so easily if he wanted. But making Ladomyr squirm was richer in satisfaction than the wine in her glass.

Alora remembered the king’s words the night before. And with a feline grin and menacing rotation of her wrist, the wine spilled from the glass, emptying at the king’s feet.

A look of disdain cloaked Ladomyr’s features.

Garrik darkly laughed, pebbling her skin at the sound. “My lady’s glass is empty. Fetch her more.” The king wisely turned. “And Ladomyr,” speaking as if his name was a joke, “I never want to see her glass empty again. Now, run along.”

“So,the Serpent of Galdheir,princess?”

Alora’s blood went molten as she instantly searched the balcony for Garrik, and then thanked the stars he wasn’t there. Having never seen the female, Alora observed the wavy black hair spilling over pale shoulders. The dark dagger-like nails and black form-fitting dress matched the princess’s ugly heart.

“It’s only a shame Ezander couldn’t be here,” a courtier said.

“Apparently, he emptied a carriage worth of coin for his outfit,” another whined and sipped her crystal of brandy. “It was to be theatrical, indeed.”

Alora, standing beside the open wall, whirled to six females in various gowns of creatures and one hideous display of white-dotted red mushrooms, and interrupted them, “Where is the prince?”

They didn’t so much as look at her.

There was enough weight of unease to twist Alora’s gut as an explosion echoed in the skies, turning her skin shades of amethyst, emerald, and navy.

Erissa’s sensually obnoxious voice cut through the thunder, “Where do you suppose I got this from?” Erissa extended her neck, revealing the festering bite marks and bruises down her neck.

The courtiers gasped, some blushed, and others did a pitiful job of concealing their jealousy.

Alora rolled her eyes and watched the skies.

“The High Prince makes a thorough lover.” The words were like molten metal pouring over every inch of Alora’s skin. “He said his cock only weeps for me.”

She wasn’t entirely sure the balcony wasn’t aflame with how scorching her body felt. The borders of her vision brightened to a shade of blood as she willed embers to lay dormant in her eyes, her hands. “I think our High Prince has more important things to do than you …Erissa,” snarling the name like a wretched curse.

Erissa let out a sharp laugh, echoing off the sneering faces covered in scarlet and hiding behind delicate pleated hand fans. “What? Like you?” And laughed again. “Do you truly think any of us believe he’d be withyou? I’m aprincess.And you’re just,” the females laughed as the princess raked her eyes in repulsion over Alora’s crown and white gown, “this.”

Every face paled. The courtiers staggered back on their expensive heels, terror veiling their faces as a solid force of ice pressed against Alora’s back, then wrapped around her waist.

Erissa froze.

Then Garrik’s voice, like nightmares given reign, growled from behind, “This.” Low. Vicious. Utterly deadly and cruel. “Do tell me, Erissa. What is …this?” And splayed his hand across Alora’s stomach, across the swirling silver and gemstones there, as the mountain shuddered in warning of his dark and endless power. Of what he could do on a whim.

He … he shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. Not in front of the court.

Not for her.

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