Page 55 of The Bond That Burns

My jaw tightened. I was trapped. I hated this. Hated the sight of others feeding while I saw here like a neutered beast, chained to Pendragon’s rules.

Once a week, in her room, on her terms. It was humiliating.

A faint coppery tang of blood lingered in the air from the thralls. It only served to make my hunger worse. But it wasn’t their blood I craved.

I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment, remembering. Pendragons’ blood was intoxicating. Unlike anything I’d ever tasted. So rich, so potent. The first time I’d fed from her, the rush of power had been almost overwhelming, igniting every nerve in my body with fire and strength. Her blood had something to it that no sellblood or thrall could ever hope to match.

She was smooth and sharp as a blade, sweet and explosive with heat all at once. Each time I fed, I was left wanting more. Each time, I left feeling unstoppable. Like her blood could make me invincible, if only I could get enough of it.

But the high didn’t last. It never did.

I sighed restlessly. I wasn’t due to feed from her until tomorrow. In the meantime I could feel my patience fraying and my restraint slipping.

How much longer could I keep this up? How much longer could I survive like this when every cell in my body screamed for me to find her and take her now?

Thank the Bloodmaiden that my uncle and Marcus hadn’t found out about my situation. Marcus would laugh his head off at first. But then he’d do something drastic. He always did.

They’d blame me—but they’d also blame Pendragon. They’d be furious at her for keeping me on a leash. They’d want me to take steps. Violent ones. And I wasn’t about to go there. I wouldn’t lay hands on a woman. At least, not one who wasn’t already actively attacking me. And especially not my own consort.

Pendragon was still mine to protect. That hadn’t changed. At least, not in some ways.

I grimaced. I felt like I was starving. But no one would ever see me crack. I’d sooner set myself on fire than show weakness like that.

The door opened and Regan swept into the room, her silver hair falling in perfectly arranged waves, her House Drakharrow insignia embroidered meticulously onto the bodice of her red, form-fitting dress. She spotted me and I saw her eyes light up with determination as she crossed the room.

I suppressed a groan.

“Blake,” she said, smiling sweetly as she looked down at me. “We need to talk.”

I wouldn’t even meet her eyes. “No. We don’t.”

Her pretty lips thinned. She placed her hands on her hips, swaying slightly towards me. I knew exactly what she was trying to do. It wasn’t going to work.

“You’re making a mistake, Blake. You’re already regretting casting me aside, aren’t you?”

“I don’t regret anything,” I said flatly, staring into the fire.

Her lips thinned petulantly. “Look at you. Pining after her. She doesn’t even want you, does she? You threw me away for a blightborn girl who thinks she’s too good for you.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “You’re pathetic, Blake. I should be laughing at you right now.”

“Yeah?” I said, trying to sound bored. “So why aren’t you?”

Because she didn’t dare. Well, that, and she still wanted me. It wasn’t just my ego talking. I could smell her from here.

“You’re throwing away an alliance that could strengthen your house,” she hissed. “You need me.”

I looked up at her, finally meeting her eyes. “If I needed you, you’d still be part of my triad—and in my bed. I don’t need you or want you, Regan. Now go.”

Her face flushed with anger, her composure slipping once and for all. Muttering furiously, she turned and stalked away, the high heels of the ridiculous shoes she wore clicking sharply against the stone floor.

I leaned back in my chair, feeling exhausted. Everything about this day was driving me crazy. The noise, the feeding, Laurent’s stupid smirk, having to talk to Regan. Most of all, my constant, gnawing hunger.

My gaze fell on a curvy highblood girl sitting on a sofa nearby. I stared at her appreciatively. Her dress was short and had slid up her thighs, revealing long swathes of bare golden skin. The dress clung to her figure in all the right places, emphasizing her hips and ample breasts.

She caught me looking at her and bit her lower lip, giving me a flirtatious smile.

Fuck it. Fine. If Pendragon wanted to act like I didn’t exist, then two could play that game.

I beckoned to the girl.

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