Page 19 of A Kingdom of Death & Darkness
“Do you wish for me to call the exterminator, My King?”
“What? No!” I sigh and press my thumb and forefinger to the bridge of my nose, knowing I sound like a fucking crazy person right now. “Forget it.” I turn to him then, and he waits with watchful eyes for my next command.
But I don’t think he could have expected it if his life depended on it.
And it very well may.
“I want you to befriend the Blood Princess,” I whisper.
His brows lift high, but he doesn’t reply.
“If she is on a walk, I want you to escort her. If she enjoys backgammon, ask her to teach you. If she’s hungry, you’re hungry–”
“But I don’t drink blood, My King,” he murmurs, and I want so badly to just fucking scream about how out of control my kingdom has become in the span of a single evening.
“Become her very favorite person of the Fae Court. Can you do that?” I wait and he nods.
“Of course,” he says, but he suddenly can’t look me in the eye, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve asked the wrong man for the job.
He stares intently at the pretty Princess. Her head tips back as she victoriously laughs with the final move of the game. Sharp canines gleam with a beautiful smile. Shadows dance across her pale flesh. She’s ethereal. Deadly beautiful.
My attention slowly passes back to the man at my side, and I immediately note I’m not the only one who notices all of these alarming facts about the spy I invited into my home.
Great.
TWELVE
Crymson
I wanderthe dark halls back to my room late into the evening hours. A bit too much wine from dinner as well as the bottle during backgammon flushes my cheeks. I smile at how nice today has been. Normal even.
As I walk on wavering steps, I can’t stop thinking about how readily Airen took my seat at the gaming table. The way he looked at Delilah was boyish and charming. I only hope his motives are honest and not something cruel. Not that he seems the type, but the fae are mysterious, mischievous creatures.
He’s just like Thorn in that way . . .
With an unsteady grab of the door handle, I have to lean into the frame to keep my balance as I attempt to open my bedroom door. After a few moments of struggle, the handle has pity on me and releases. I stumble inside and land on my stomach on my bed. A drunken giggle slips from my lips before my eyes start to feel heavy. My feet dangle off the edge, and as my lashes close, I know deep down I should have the self-respect to wiggle the rest of the way onto the fluffy mattress.
I just don’t think I can. I lie flat on my face with a tangle of limbs tucked beneath me, and I know in the morning, I’ll regret every drink I took tonight.
But that’s a problem for morning me, not present me.
Darkness overtakes my swirling thoughts, and the sexiest voice tumbles in from the shadows of my mind.
“Hello, pretty pet,” he whispers.
Christian?
I try to catch a glimpse of the haunting voice that’s consuming my mind, but it’s a sensual, cool touch that skims across my thoughts instead.
“I think of you often. More than often if I’m being honest,” he says with a voice so heavy, I can physically feel regret twisting up my insides.
Do you miss me?
“Mmm, to miss someone is to let them go...”
I toss restlessly and say the one thing I’ve been dying to scream at him since he gave me away so willingly to the fae.
You did let me go!
