Page 151 of The Forbidden Dragon King
As soon as the cursed blade touches the vampire’s skin, the enemy prisoner disintegrates to ash.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Quintus’ Bedroom, Shadow Court
Daire
The mission istoseduce and kill, Maximinus told me. Quintus dies tonight.
Would Freya hate me, if she knew that I was going to be stained in blood for her? To stop the agonizing pain that’s seared through my veins all night, while I’ve sung, danced, and played the courtesan for my enemies? For these bastards who burned my kingdom to ash?
Would she understand that I’ve never stopped fighting?
A warrior doesn’t need to wear armor to be engaged in a battle.
Quintus’ hand crawls tomy waist, playing at the thin silk fabric teasingly, as he guides me down the darkened corridor toward his rooms.
“How kind of Maximinus to lend you to me. I’m eager to see how well you’re trained, sweetheart.” Quintus leans down, taking a shuddering breath, while sniffing my hair. His hand wanders lower to cup my arse. “You’re not as deliciously ripe smelling as an Omega but you do seem as eager as one.”
“Fae are horny bastards, didn’t you hear?”
Quintus lets out a surprised laugh. “There’s that sharp tongue of yours. Maybe I can tame it tonight. I’m good at breaking brats.”
I remember the young servant who limps from Quintus’ rooms most days. The way that I’ve seen him weeping when he thinks no one can see.
My gaze becomes icy. “I dare you to try.”
“Dare accepted.” Quintus’ voice is flinty. He yanks me harder against him, shoving open the door to his grand suite of rooms, which are lit only by moonlight through the arched windows. “I’m not like the soft boy, Aurelius. Ever since I saw you in that cage, degraded and dragged through the capital’s streets, I’ve been dreaming of the night that I could have the Raven King on his knees for me.”
I bet you have, sick arsehole.
Now in the privacy of his own rooms, Quintus gives up any pretense of being gentle and drags me brutally towards his bedroom at the back.
I don’t resist.
He thinks that I’m his prey.
Actually, he’s dragging the hunter back to his nest.
Bloody idiot.
This Shadow Court has sharpened me into as much of a blade as Aurelius is.
I barely feel the way that Quintus shoves me into his bedroom, which is lit by guttering torches that cast dancing shadows over the gold leaf frescoed walls.
My brow furrows.
Shadows consuming Aurelius, devouring him until he’s nothing but shadows, amber eyes, and flaming sword… Burn. Burn. Burn… The vampire disintegrating to ash.
Aurelius had been a bloody marvel in the Silver Banquet Hall. He was shadowed death that could topple kingdoms. I’m tangled up inside because now he feels like both my greatest enemy and my fated pack.
By the Shadow Devils, it’d been thrilling to see the shifter’s darkness winding around him, even if his uncle, the Horror of Bael and poisoner of my nightmares, deliberately made his nephew drunk to fuel the spectacle.
Maximinus had used some poor Blood who looked like Lanlin as a prop.
As a blood sacrifice.
I don’t only admire Aurelius, as when we fought each other streaked in blood on the battlefield, Iseehim.
