Page 23 of Essence of the Throne

My eyes slide to the minute space between our gleaming chests, slick with sweat and something a little more delicious.

His blood, I remind myself.

Caspian glares at my breasts with an intense hunger, bending forward to catch a drop of crimson that must have escaped my mouth.

Pity—I wanted all of it for myself.

But that disappointment lasts for only a moment before the prince’s tongue slides up my breast to the crevice of my throat. A pounding need overcomes me, and I know that what he’s about to do will be more pleasurable than anything in this life. His thrusts increase, faltering slightly. It feels as though he cannot control his body—as though he has succumbed to the force of this moment, lost amongst the infinite amount of places our bodies connect.

“Yes. Fuck, my prince,please,” I beg, the sound ardent and desperate, and tilt my head back in complete submission. I have been waiting for this very moment forso long. Too long. And now it will finally be complete.

His teeth drag over my skin, and hair rises along my arms. The anticipation may ruin me. Bless the Angel, he does not make me wait long. His jaw opens and prepares to bite down; to take what we need to—

My eyes fly open as a piece of reality breaks through the haze. “Stop!” I shove at his chest, darting off his lap and crawling backward with my hands until I feel like I can breathe again. He makes no move for me, even as my shadows sink into his skin, releasing him—it appears we are both just as confused.

His wide, horror-stricken eyes meet mine for a heartbeat before they home in on my mouth.

Where his blood dries.

The blood I sucked from his neck.

Against every bit of my pleading stomach, I look down at his neck to find the small, round wounds I caused still oozing. The fucking wounds Iachedto cause—the same ones Caspianbeggedme to cause.

I’m going to be sick.

I slap a hand over my mouth just in time to hold in the gagging. I fumble with the blankets on the prince’s bed, nearly shredding them into non-existence, and start running to his bathroom. The rate at which my abdomen is spinning…

I’m almost there, one hand still stuck to my lips while the other holds my breasts, lest I pull a fucking muscle running without support. I could heal it in a moment, but I’d rather not have something else to think about right now. The door to Caspian’s bedroom swings open, and Gavriel practically falls through the doorway, followed by another sentry.

I will never speak about how this is the first time in my life I have felt self-conscious of my naked body.

Gavriel’s jaw drops while the prince says words I cannot focus on. “What is going on? We’ve been trying to break down the door since I heard glass shattering! Whe—” The guard pauses his rant as he looks between Caspian and me, his face the picture of incredulity. “Did you fuckingbitehim?”

I gag once more, turning toward the bathroom just as something wraps around my shoulders. A blanket, I think—a small kindness that I do not deserve. I barely reach the toilet before retching violently. Red liquid splatters against the porcelain, the sight of it causing me to heave even harder.

“What did she do to you, Caspian?” Gavriel’s shout is so loud I’m certain half the castle—no, half of Valoria—can hear him. “I’ll fucking kill her.” There’s a loud crash following the guard’s declaration, though I don’t look to see what has happened. My stomach is giving me a break, and I will rest my forehead against the cool tile on the floor until I die. There’s nothing left for me to do in this life if this is how I’ll feel.

Fuck, I sound like a whining child. But…have I ever been sick before?

My mind runs through years of memories, a needed distraction from the soul-consuming nausea that hasn’t been relieved by throwing up every organ in my body. I shift slightly—no, I have never once gotten sick. Especially not to the taste or sight of blood.

“You will not touch her, Gavriel. Take Benson to the pit with you.” Caspian’s calm, assured voice settles me a little. But not enough that I’m confident I could sit up without another round of my face in the toilet. “If youeverspeak against her like that again, the pit will seem like a fucking blessing compared to what I will do to you. Leave.” Gavriel mutters several things too quiet for me to hear before barking at Benson to get out of the door. The slam of it startles me, but I keep my face pressed into the tile.How have I never appreciated the therapeutic effects of it before? It feelsso nice.

It only occurs to me how ridiculous I must look curled up on the floor of Caspian’s bathroom when his footsteps get louder. “Ari,” he murmurs, his voice much softer than it was just moments ago. “Are you okay?” I peek through my lashes and find him crouching next to me with nothing but concern on his face. I can tell he wants to touch me, to comfort me in the affectionate way he’s so accustomed to, but doesn’t. Instead, he locks his fingers together and waits for something.

Oh, right, he spoke to me.

“I’m fine,” I croak, rolling to my back to look at him better. “Just nauseous, but it’s going away.” I take a deep breath, wincing. I need to clean my mouth—I taste disgusting.

Actually, if I’m being truthful with myself, the taste in my mouth is pure bliss. Something I could get addicted to.

It’s the realization that is disgusting. How in the Aether could I ever think the taste ofbloodis…

I cannot even finish that thought.

“Can you heal it?”

I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished speaking. “No, there’s nothing to heal other than my own revulsion of drinking—” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut. I must stop thinking about it before I begin retching once again.

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