Page 66 of A Bond in Blood

“Sorry I’m a disappointment,” I replied.

Olen leaned down, pulling me up by the wrist.

“Stop baiting him, Brenna. Stop trying to get under his skin.”

I stared up at Olen then lifted myself onto my toes. “Kiss me,” I begged.

His gaze was blank, his mouth unmoving while he stared back at me.

“Princess.”

“Please,” I asked, pulling at his shirt. “Please give me control over something.”

Olen’s head turned back as though he were checking for any prying eyes. His calloused hand brushed my cheek.

“I thought we were friends,” he chuckled.

“Friends do favors for one another,” I countered.

He tugged on the end of my hair, eliciting a gasp from me. “Not those kinds of favors.”

He released his hold on my hair and turned on his heel. My pulse raced while I stared after him walking away, leaving me in the hallway alone with loud screams and moans of pleasure coming from the ballroom.

“Olen!” I yelled.

“Try becoming friends with him, princess!” he shouted over his shoulder. “You may actually like him!”

I turned back to the ballroom, determined to knock the doors down. To ruin Ulrich’s night of pleasure. Only, when I arrived atthe doors, throwing them open with athud, he was no longer in the middle of the room. The women were still there, but each of them were being pleasured by their own man. And the throne?

Well… the throne was empty.

I didn’t miss, however, the hidden door—still slightly open just beyond the dais.

No—I couldn’t miss it at all.

Chapter 16

My utensils dragged across the ceramic plate, a melody alongside the others in the room. I pulled my gaze up, studying Ulrich across from me and Olen to my right.

Ulrich’s hand rose while he set his fork on his tongue. His eyes sparkled, holding my gaze. My back went stiff in my chair.

“Do I need to give you two privacy?” Olen said, with a mouth full of food.

I turned my eyes from the king, glaring at his right hand.

“Do you not have manners?”

Olen grinned and his chewed meal appeared between his lips. “Not where I’m from.”

A thump sounded under the table and Olen jumped. I twisted back to Ulrich, head cocking at his attack on Olen’s shin.

“What did he say that you didn’t want uttered?”

Ulrich sipped from his glass, a dark whiskey this evening. “Nothing that concerns a mortal woman.”

“Half-fae,” Olen grumbled.

“Thank you, Olen,” I replied, scowling at the king.

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