Page 59 of Our Sins in Silver (Coven of Sin 3)

“They’re disturbing,” Vin said.

“Tch. Yeah. That’s what makes them fun. I’m sorry, but is this a meeting to discuss protecting the princess, or is this just an ambush to kink shame me?”

Sterling sighed. “No one is shaming you. I just don’t endorse the way you brutalized her.”

By the angle of Eros’ aura, he was kicking back in his chair, and I could hear the eye roll in his retort. “Hey, she could have changed her mind at any point. I told her if she wanted a gentle fuck to find you. I figured she would. I just didn’t think she’d take every drop of me, leave Feral with blue balls in the hall, then slip beneath you all in the same night. Our little fuck doll is full of surprises...” Eros chuckled to himself, and the sound turned to a growl as Vincent lunged.

Eros dodged the attack, cackling like a hyena and goading his rival on. “You should have seen her. The way she looked me in the eye and begged me to take her. No female has ever had the balls to do that. How’s it feel that she’d rather have a dangerous murderer like me over a monster like you?”

By the sounds and the auras’ positions, Sterling broke up the fight. Vincent cursed in his native fae tongue. “You should leave the throne to a male fit to be king, and you should leave the princess to a male alpha enough to keep her bridled.”

“By his story, it sounds like he can bridle her just fine,” Corry said.

“So long as I ask nicely enough,” Eros gloated, making my cheeks blister.

Vincent snarled. “Have you forgotten whose daughter she is? She’s the fruit of a powerful vampire slayer and the world’s oldest evil. She has a monster inside her. One that needs to be muzzled.”

My fists clenched. Sensing my ire, Sterling squeezed my hand. “This was before you knocked some sense into him.”

I swallowed and nodded my understanding. Even knowing that this conversation went down before The Warehouse fight—before Boston—Vincent’s hostility still stung.

“Is the muzzle you have in mind a ball gag then, Feral?” Eros sneered. “Considering you’re trying so hard to make her your subservient little mate.”

“I wouldn’t be if the Elders weren’t making me jump through all these hoops to be king. I’ll mate and claim the bitch if that’s what it takes to claim the throne and keep the power out of the hands of a Helsing. Otherwise, I wouldn’t so much as look at her.”

“Ha. You’re so full of shit. You’re so hard up for her, you pop a stiffy whenever you so much as look in her direction.”

“That’s her magic. The witch is trying to wind me around her finger, and it’s not going to work.”

“You’re full of shit,” Eros repeated, this time without the grin in his cadence.

My present Sterling tugged me away from the memory. “Your father is on our trail. We have to keep moving.”

Sterling pushed through the memory and into another, and another after that. This time, he paused when we crossed through to the night we spent in the attic. The sound of our heated and labored breaths made my insides twist and twinge with heat.

“Why are we going through all these memories?”

“We’re looking for one in particular.”

“How is a memory going to help us escape?”

“Because we’re going to lure the vampire king into it. It’s from a night when he showed a different side of himself. I suspect reliving the moment will render him emotionally susceptible. Perhaps enough for you to regain control over the spell.”

I expressed a dubious frown. “I’m not sure I can...”

Sterling turned, took me by the shoulders and leveled me with an expression that sent a rush of pleasure through my body and eased my raw nerves.

“Iamsure.”

His confidence lifted my chin, and I expelled a breath I’d been holding in. “Alrighty, then. I believe you. I mean, you’ve got a thousand years of book learning under your belt, and I’ve seen the boring non-fiction you hoard. So I guess you know a thing or two.”

Sterling’s perfect lips pursed into an equally perfect smile. “That’s my girl.” He arched down to brush his lips against my neck in a featherlight kiss. We stayed like that in the center of the memory, just a few feet from where past us fucked like rabbits on the attic table. Our labored breathing, my crumbling moans as I came apart, and his masculine groaning as he followed all made my heart race with excitement.

“Why madam, I do believe you’re blushing,” the priest noted with the sly curve of his mouth as he pulled back to examine me.

I smirked and arched a coy brow. “Did you ever try to imagine it for yourself? What I looked like when I blushed?”

His smile turned carnal. “Imagine you? Painted in red?” The priest’s hands dropped to my ass, a soft whimper blowing from me as his fingers sunk into the flesh. “No longer do I think of things like scripture or the Kingdom of Heaven. But I do think of paradise. The crux of your thighs, the glaze of your eyes when I slip between your legs. The flare of your flesh, streaked in blood…”

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