Page 32 of A Kingdom of Death & Darkness
“I’d like to watch,” he fires back with a grin. “If you let me.”
“Enough,” Thorn grunts. “Be on guard, brother.”
Carver rolls his eyes, but he does straighten from his casual position, at least.
“He’s not a threat,” I remind the King, my fingers twisting together.
“Respectfully,” Thorn replies, glancing at me, “the Blood Prince is a threat to everyone and everything.”
And then he gestures for Aerin to open the door.
The heavy locks slide away one by one, until Aerin grabs the door and glances toward Thorn. At his nod, he drags the enormous wooden doors open.
They part with a sinister whine and a cool gust of wind that crawls across my skin.
On the other side, Christian stands. The rain pours down, casting his form as an omen at our doorstep as he waits patiently on the stairs. His white shirt sticks to his skin, highlighting his lean muscle and dark inky lines as his gaze slides around our group and finds me. The expression that tightens his face heats my skin as he looks me up and down, taking note of my body, my casual dress, and every single detail in between.
Do I look different?
Christian looks exactly the same as I remember. Just as beautiful, just as dangerous. Pale hair is slicked back from sharp conniving features. The small arrogant tilt of his full lips reveals the slightest hint of deadly canines. I shiver as his deadened gaze holds intently on me. His presence alone sinks into the fine room with a sinister macabre effect I’ve never felt before.
Never until now.
Thorn steps in front of me, partially blocking my entranced view.
“Are you going to invite me in?” A sopping wet Christian asks charmingly as he tilts his head curiously at Thorn.
The cruel smile on his lips never falters even as my heartbeat pounds harder, and the rain outside falls violently in pace with my pulse. It lashes down on him, streaming across his face in cutting lines. His hands remain clasped and poised in front of him. He doesn’t blink an eye.
Thorn tips up his chin. “No,” he finally declares. “On second thought, I don’t think I will.”
I blink at him, but my silent protests are very unheard. I could kick this man in his fae dick right now.
Huffing in frustration, I storm forward and shove Thorn out of the way. Surprisingly, he lets me, a soft chuckle under his breath my only indicator that he’s amused by my reaction. And then his hand lowers to the smallest part of my back. Christian’s eyes follow the movement and narrow, a note he’s clearly filing away for another time.
“Come inside,” I say, looking around Christian to search for the crow. “Both of you.”
Rorrick appears out of the rain like a shadow, as if he hadn’t wanted to stand next to Christian for the reveal. Both of them are watching the way Thorn touches me, the way he guides me back as Christian and Rorrick enter the castle.
The tension in the room ratchets up even higher as they do, all the hot air being sucked out for all these men’s egos. Hostility stings the cool air around us, coating it with barely concealed fury.
Rorrick smiles softly and motions to a pair of black trousers in his hand like he’s waiting for a standing ovation from the Fae Court. Carver gives a confused glance at the naked vampire, buthe’s the only one who notices. I give him a half-hearted thumbs up and close my eyes slowly before turning back to the moody Prince before me.
“I see you’ve made yourself right at home, pretty pet,” Christian comments as he drips water across the marble floor with every slow taunting step. He levels me with an icy look in his steely eyes. I can feel the storm inside of him like it’s my own chaotic emotions. “Does he fuck as good as he fights?”
“Better,” I fire back, annoyed that he can’t look past his fucking ego, annoyed that yet again, I’d hoped for too much from the royal men in my life.
His eyes flicker with violence, and the tension inside the room suffocates me as he bares his fangs at Thorn. “The Blood King will kill you for touching what’s his.”
Thorn raises a brow at him, unafraid. “Then we’ll all be dead, will we not?”
Christian blinks, his expression tight. He looks back at me and then his gaze goes to Seven, softens. Inky lines stain his skin, but now that he’s standing in the warm foyer light, he looks bigger. Stronger. “I owe you a debt, it seems.”
The way he appraises Seven is similar to how he assessed me for damages but quicker.
“I did it for her,” Thorn responds. “Not for you. The debt you owe is hers.”
Christian’s eyes widen in surprise, and then he looks back at me. I can see it takes everything inside him to do it, and it hardly counts as a thank you, but he just barely bows his head, maybe an inch, toward me.
