Page 16 of Pregnant By the Vampire King

"My king," she said softly, "that's enough."

Her touch, and her words, were like a soothing balm to a searing wound. At once, his anger flickered out.

Vinir slowly released his grip, and Sawgar fell to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath. He was too humiliated and defeated to even look up.

The guards that had been standing by stepped forward and forcefully removed Sawgar from the court. Vinir stood still, watching them take him away with a grim expression on his face. This was a lesson to all his subjects—no one was above his laws or exempt from punishment if they broke them.

"Court is finished for today," Vinir barked and turned away, intent on leaving their presence at once.

Aelwen was quick to follow him. "My king," she called out. "Husband."

He stopped in his tracks, eyes wild while looking over her. Being close to her was a danger he couldn't risk right now, as his hands burned and sizzled from the effects of his curse. Withshaking hands, he retrieved a new pair of gloves from his pocket and slipped them off.

"You were wondering why I wouldn't touch you?" he snarled. "Now you know why. My touch is—it's poison, Aelwen. Come near me only if you want to be burned alive like I would have done to Lord Sawgar if you hadn't stopped me."

She swallowed and brought a hand up to her throat, but she said nothing.

Vinir turned and left, glad that she didn't follow.

Glad that she wouldn't try tempting him into hurting her.

Because he might be the cruel king, merciless, but he didn't want to hurt her.

And he knew if she gave him a chance to, he would.

***

The door burst open beneath Vinir's hands, opening into the luxurious guest chamber he afforded only to his most special guests. Roland had long since turned from a trusted advisor to a dear friend during his work as an envoy between Zacorith and Daihalsa, which bordered Vinir's kingdom on the western side.

Candelabras were placed around the room, the flames of dozens of candles giving the room a warm, inviting glow. The floor was lined with a plush rug, with several couches, armchairs, and ottomans. A marble fireplace and a polished mahogany table with delicate carvings dominated the center of the chamber.

On one of those couches, Vinir spotted his friend Roland lounging on the black chaise, two beautiful women draped allover him. They giggled as Roland fondled them, but they all looked up in alarm when Vinir entered.

"My king—" one of the women began.

Vinir took one look at them and snarled. "Out! Now!"

They gasped and hurried to obey his command, leaving an annoyed-looking Roland on the couch, staring up at him.

"What the fuck, man?" Roland complained.

"I need to know, did I fuck up?" Vinir said as soon as the women were gone.

He paced back and forth across the back of the room, away from Roland, trying to collect his thoughts but feeling entirely incapable.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Roland admitted.

Vinir sighed and took a deep breath before finally turning to face Roland, who was still sitting on the couch looking at him with confusion. Vinir sighed again and ran a hand over his face, taking a moment to compose himself.

"My curse is driving me fucking mad," he said slowly, his voice heavy with emotion. "My touch is poisonous, and I can burn anything or anyone that my skin touches. It is why I usually wear gloves."

He paused, waiting for Roland's reaction, but he didn't seem fazed by the admission. "I was wondering when you would come clean about your curse."

"You're not surprised?"

"Not at all. I was in King Dominick's court for a whole year, remember? I was there when the curse struck, and the rumor going around at the time was that all of King Eroch'senemies had been cursed." Roland snorted and pulled himself up into a seated position, crossing his arms. "I know you're not a warmonger, but you've never had any love for your northern neighbor. I expected you had been hit too, even if no one had been able to uncover what your curse was or why you were keeping it a secret."

A large weight felt as though it had been lifted from Vinir's shoulders. Simply the admission to a trusted friend helped immensely.

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