Page 46 of The Curse of Blood and Silenc

She still had black and blue bruises on her fair skin. Each one meant a death sentence I would personally deliver. The other families might view Serenity as my weakness, but they’d soon come to learn she was my strength, and my enemies would understand that hurting her meant signing their own death warrant. No territory, no amount of power, compared to having her safe in my arms. The king of New Orleans had finally found his queen, and God help anyone who tried to come between us.

I gently lowered her legs and withdrew from her, my breathing slowly returning to normal. The bathroom lights cast a warm glow on her skin, radiant from our intense passion. She reached for the bottle of gel and lathered it onto her skin before rinsing it off, each movement stirring a deep hunger inside me.

“Shall I wash your hair?” My voice was husky with desire.

She laughed, a sound that brought a smile to my face. “Yes, if you want.”

I poured the shampoo onto her scalp, my fingers gently massaging as she purred like a contented cat. The scent of coconut and vanilla in the air added to the sensual atmosphere. I rinsed away the suds, admiring the way her hair shone under the water, reflecting the sunlight streaming through the bathroom window. It was a simple act, but in that moment, it felt as intimate as our lovemaking.

“I’m so tired,” she mumbled as I rinsed her hair again. Her body swayed slightly against mine, exhaustion evident in every line of her body. The events of the last few days, the fear, the trauma—all of it was catching up with her.

I cursed myself. I shouldn’t have taken so much blood from her. But the way she’d offered herself to me without hesitation had made my fangs ache. And I’d selfishly wanted to erase every trace of her captivity with my touch. I should have shown more restraint.

I patted the towel over her body and dried her blonde hair. She was like a weary goddess. I slipped her robe on, my movements gentle, as if she might shatter. Her skin was too pale, her pulse slower than I liked. The dark circles under her eyes stood out like bruises. She’d been missing for almost ten days, nearly driving me mad. She must not have slept these past few days, especially with Balthazar haunting her. She needed rest to replenish what I’d taken. What kind of protector was I if I couldn’t control my own hunger?

But that had to wait. She’d been taken when my back was turned, and Gage had gotten to her far too easily. I had to prevent that from ever happening again, needed to understand every weakness he’d exploited.

I fingered the blue silky robe that matched her eyes. “How did Gage kidnap you?”

She yawned, tying the robe’s belt around her slim waist. “You don’t know?”

“No.”

She sighed heavily. “Petar told me that you and Joy were in a van outside and that Joy was wounded.” Her voice caught, heavy with self-recrimination. “I was so foolish! I believed him. He’s crazy, Angelo. He wants to be king.”

King? Ice crystallized in my veins as rage exploded through me. Petar. My own lieutenant. The betrayal gutted me, leaving nothing but murderous rage, making my fangs elongate. He hadn’t just betrayed me—he’d used Serenity’s compassion against her, knowing she would rush to help Joy. The fool dared to challenge my crown by stealing my queen. My vision edged with red. He would beg for death long before I finished with him.

“None of this is the least bit your fault.” I lifted her chin and stared into her eyes.

A weak smile curved her lips before she yawned again, swaying on her feet. I caught her against my chest, steadying her exhausted body. Even half-asleep, she curled into me like she belonged there. Trustingly. After everything she’d been through, she still trusted me completely. The weight of that trust sat heavy in my chest.

I lifted her into my arms, carrying her to our bed. She murmured something unintelligible, her face pressed into my neck. The scent of fear still clung to her even after the shower. How many nights had she lain awake in that plantation, terrifiedof what dreams might come? How many times had she called for me while that demon tormented her?

Balthazar would pay for every hour of sleep he’d stolen from her. And Gage would die for hurting her. But right now, she needed me here, needed to feel safe enough to finally rest. I could hunt later.

I pulled the cover over her. “Please don’t leave me.” she mumbled.

“Never.” I crawled in naked next to her and pulled her close, her body fitting against mine perfectly like she was created for this space. She spooned herself into me, seeking my protection even in sleep. The weight of her trust humbled me —after everything she’d endured, she still turned to me like I was her sanctuary. I resisted the temptation to take her again, though my body ached for her. She was exhausted. After what she’d endured, peace was the best thing I could give her now.

Her blond hair cascaded over her pillow like a halo, and the beast within me quieted at having her here, safe in my arms. My mate. My light. The other half of my damned soul. The days without her had been a special kind of torture—sensing her pain and her terror but being unable to reach her. Each scream that had echoed through our connection had shredded what was left of my humanity. Only her presence now, warm and real, kept the monster inside from painting the world red.

I knew this peace was temporary. This business with Balthazar, Petar, and Gage had to end. If not, Serenity would never truly be safe. I had too many enemies circling, waiting for another chance to take her. If they hadn’t learned their lesson from the bloodbath I’d created finding her, and they dared to try again, I wouldn’t just kill the perpetrators—I would dismantle their entire world. Anyone who even thought about touching her would suffer until they begged for death.

Serenity’s soft snores told me she was asleep. I could still taste her sweet blood, so pure and willing, mixed with the blood of Gage’s whimpering curs, taken in violence and terror before they died. They had all been expendable. Not one of them knew where the coward had fled.

Pathetic. Gage hadn’t even trusted his own men with his escape route. Although, considering how easily they’d broken under questioning, I suppose it was smart of him. It still wouldn’t save him. New Orleans was my city. I had eyes everywhere, and Gage would need more than Balthazar’s protection to survive what I had planned for him.

Business demanded I meet with Enzo and Dimitri to plan our next move regarding Petar, but the thought of leaving Serenity, even for a moment, made my blood turn cold. Petar had played his role perfectly—earning my trust, infiltrating my organization, waiting for the perfect moment to steal my queen. That serpent had wormed his way into my empire, and I had allowed it. Dimitri had seen through him, had warned me, but I had ignored his counsel. A king’s mistake. One that would be paid for in blood.

Someone softly knocked on my door. No one would dare disturb me unless it was important—they knew better than to test my patience when I had just reclaimed my queen.

I slipped from the covers, unconcerned with my nakedness. The door opened silently beneath my careful touch—Serenity deserved her hard-won peace.

Enzo stood outside my door. Of all my men, only he would risk my wrath in this moment.

I glared. “What?”

Enzo met my gaze, unflinching—another reason he was my second. “Trystan can’t find Gage. Neither can Keir.”

---