Page 99 of The Blood Crown

And she nearly shattered at the look he gave her now, beneath her, hands circling her hips and mouth parted as if she were a goddess and he were worshiping at her altar.

She moved her hips, watching his eyes glaze over in ecstasy. He was at her command tonight, a blade to be wielded as she desired.

Guiding his hand between the soft swells of her breasts, she brought his wrist to her lips, letting the points of her fangs scrape against his golden skin. She sank her teeth into his vein, watching as the crimson of his irises flooded black. Rocking her hips in time with every pull—she drank down his pleasure along with his blood and it wasn’t long before both of them tumbled into oblivion together.

Chapter 50

Three days had passed since their visit to the Western Ridge.

Lord Thero and his host had arrived along with Hathos and two dozen blacksmiths. The other lords had not sent their reply.

The visitors had taken over an empty wing of the fortress—the forges lit once more, hammers ringing day and night. But swords and daggers were only as useful as the number of hands to wield them.

Ven’s message to the Triarchy had gone unanswered as well, though none of them spoke of it.

All of them were trying to pretend they didn’t feel the dark cloud hanging over them, knowing their time was limited before an army would descend on the fortress. Knowing that they were vastly outnumbered.

The walls of Ravenstone would hold back lesser demons, but the princes wouldn’t be stopped so easily, and without the help of the Allokin—there was no telling how long the wards surrounding the Blood Kingdom would hold.

The Wraith scouts that Ven sent out into the Shades came back night after night with no answer as to where the demon army had disappeared. And the anticipation of an unknown attack was somehow worse. If the numbers of demons they’d encountered in the in-between were any indication—there were thousands . . . maybe tens of thousands of those things biding their time.

Aurelia had thrown herself back into her routine—a comfort that she had come to rely on.

Her mornings were spent on the Ledge, training with Ven or one of the others, though Nira had become her preference, because the female was never shy about telling her where she was weak—what needed to improve. And most days, Aurelia craved the brutal directness and the unerring attacks that left her mind with nowhere to wander except for the lethal female in front of her.

Once she’d had her fill of beatings and bruises, she’d stumble back to their chambers, bathe and dress, and head to Embra’s tower for the remainder of the day. Her body so completely worn out that she savored the quiet of the greenhouse and the list of tasks Embra left at her workstation. Occasionally she’d catch a glimpse of silver hair, but Valea kept nearly out of sight—even after the weeks she’d been here.

As dusk fell, Aurelia would make her way toward the library, hoping to find some hidden information that might be the difference between victory or defeat—or at the very least might mean their survival.

Her training was paying off, the targets growing smaller and further away with every passing day, finding the nuance in her power with Ven’s instruction. Most of the blasts were still unfocused, leaving scorch marks across the stone in messy, irregular patterns. But slowly, she was learning to shape it,honing it like a blade as the lightning bent slightly to her will with every strike she called across the Ledge.

The shadows were harder to grasp, elusive and fluid. The darkness she'd called forth in Mountveil hadn't shown itself again, as if the panic, the desperation had sharpened her power. But Ven was an ever-patient teacher—helping her coax her newly discovered magick to the surface with his own.

“You’re improving,” Nira said, pulling the set of black-handled daggers from the target.

Aurelia had awoken restless early this morning, an agitation winding through her that she couldn’t put a name to. So she’d gone straight to the Ledge, knowing Nira would work her until she was too tired to think of anything else.

First, target practice with magick—throwing strike after strike of lightning until the heat died out in her veins. Then shadows. And when nothing but wisps of pale gray answered her, Nira had handed her daggers, saying,you need to learn how to fight even when you’re bone tired. Becausethatwill be the difference between survival and death

“Careful now,” Karro chided from the side of the Ledge, “she might think you’re starting to like her.” He threw a wink at Aurelia.

“Please,” Nira replied, handing the black blades to her, “no one’s as desperate for my approval as you.”

Laughter choked out from the other side of the Ledge where Asher and Seth sparred. Asher turned, coughing as Seth murmured to him with a small smirk and he refocused his attention.

She’d watched them enough times to know that the Wraith wasn’t using his full, lethal abilities—but there was nothing patronizing in the way he handled her brother.

Asher was formidable in his own right, and after the months he’d spent recovering here, his strength and his ability werereturning to him. But it didn’t change the fact that he was mortal—human. A reality that she desperately tried to keep from haunting her thoughts.

Karro squared his shoulders, turning her attention back to her training as he stalked to the space across from her, bracing his feet wide. One slightly in front of the other—just as he’d taught her. But she didn’t miss the way his eyes slid to the empty space on the balcony above them, lingering for just a moment.

The day before, she’d caught Valea watching them train, perched like a white vulture on the railing. Her gaze fixed on Karro, body so still that Aurelia wondered if she had stopped breathing altogether. But as soon as the female's eyes flicked to Aurelia, she crossed her lean arms over her chest and stalked back to whatever dark corner of Ravenstone she'd taken to hiding in.

Karro shook out the tension across his muscled shoulders, scarlet eyes focused on her. “C’mon, Ari—” he taunted.

All of them needed a distraction, it seemed.

She sunk down into a crouch, hands raised just as a shadow appeared in the periphery of her vision.

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