Page 17 of Sanctuary with Kings

His chest rolled beneath me, another massive inhale and rushing exhale that warmed my left shoulder and cascaded down my back. Clarity was brief and sweet—Asterion wouldnothurt me. I thought I might learn to trust him even better than I trusted myself.

"Hold on, it's getting bumpy!" Conall's voice called from outside.

Finally, Asterion's arm tightened around my waist. With the first rut in the road, the simple fit of our bodies became something stronger, a slight grind as we jostled on the seat. The dense ridge of Asterion's cock pressed into the cushion of skirts and between my legs. He bit off his grunt but I didn't bother to hide my sigh, letting it stroke his throat. When his arm tried to loosen, I tightened my thighs, scooting closer. Even if I could not make myself take more from Asterion and he would not claim it from me, the road would make something of this closeness between us.

My lips parted as we bounced over the pockmarked road, my brow furrowing as I studied the perfunctory grind and bounce of our hips and the slow flickers of heat that collected in my core. Asterion's skin was warm against my tongue, the velvety bristles of his fur pricking in one direction, silk in another, and suddenly I realized I was kissing his throat, sucking his flesh. Asterion's chest swelled for a moment, his arm squeezing, and then a long and rough groan melted into my ear.

"We should—I should—"

Asterion's breaths came quicker, and with them thenéktar, sweet and syrupy, gathering on my tongue and sliding down to coat my cavernous hunger. I thought his stuttering words would call a stop to my feasting on his skin, but now that I was drinking him down I couldn't bear the thought of going hungry again.

I sat up only to take his face back in my hands, turn his mouth to mine, and nibble my way across his full bottom lip, an amused puff of breath stroking over my cheeks in my path. I reached the left corner, and Asterion's horns thunked against the back of the carriage as he pulled away, but when he leaned forward again, it was to press his mouth to my throat, tongue snaking out and caressing over my pulse, down into the crooked collar of my dress.

Thenéktarwas so heady it made me dizzy, swaying into his arms, arching into his tongue. His pleasure at holding me, tasting me; my own at the slick, hot swipe of his tongue, the pressure of his thickening cock between my legs. I shivered and he nuzzled into my shoulder. The base of his horn was in front of my eye and I caught it with my hand, steering his mouth up to my jaw. He chuckled and pressed a damp, chaste kiss to the corner, his mouth so broad it touched the lobe of my ear too.

I didn't know what to take next, didn't even know if there needed to be more or if I could survive on this, over and over again, all the rest of the way to wherever it was we were going.

And then suddenly the carriage's jostling wasn't bumps but the sudden rearing of horses, and Conall cried out from above.

"Asterion! We have trouble!"

The arm around my waist gripped, and I gasped as Asterion hunched and twisted, pushing me onto the bench in the same motion that he vacated it. His nose pressed to my cheek with a sharp intake of breath as the carriage jerked again.

"Stay here," Asterion said, his voice ragged.

He lurched toward the door, leaping out before the wheels had stopped their turning, jogging alongside and slamming it shut. Behind him, the sky darkened to a hazy shade of rust, threatening shadows lurching through the outlines of a dark wood, sharp and jagged screams swooping overhead.

I reached for the handle of the door, my heart still galloping with the momentum of the halted carriage, the rush of freshnéktar, and the sudden warning of danger. I was torn between throwing myself out of the trap of the carriage, chasing after Asterion and attaching myself to his side; or holding the door shut tight until I heard the safe promise of his now familiar voice again.

A horrible screech circled above, the sound of glass shattering and bones breaking. Ice scratched down my back and scorching bile rose up my throat at the harpy's call. My fingers clawed into the cushions, sweated around the metal handle. Birsha's allies had found me.

They would drag me back to him, push me into stone and straw and grime, push me into the hands of whatever beast had paid to use me.

Steal me away from the warm, gentle frame of Asterion's protection, and the first tease of truenéktarI'd tasted in so many decades.

Asterion and Conall were shouting to one another, their voices circling the carriage, the horses crying out in warning. The curtains shrouded the view of the woods and the road, and with the sun sinking, there were no hints from my hiding place.

I didn't want to hide. I didn't want to see the faces coming for me. If I ran into the shadows again, would I find the same strange sanctuary I'd found with the whores on the streets of London? I forced my fingers to loosen from the edge of the bench, ignored their trembling as I reached for the curtain, the way they flinched before shoving the fabric aside.

Tree roots were surging up from the ground, the carriage jerking as they tangled through the wheels.

"Get the horses loose, I'll handle the crow," Conall barked, passing the window I stared out of. His storming pace faltered as he glanced at me through the glass. The scar over his cheek shone stark and red, and he had the same dark circles under his eyes as Asterion. He dipped his head to me and dove into motion again, shoulders rolling and face stretching into a snarl.

A shadow followed his loping steps, and I wasn't sure if I was imagining its own set of eyes or if my terror was playing tricks on my mind. Was Birsha there in the dark, watching me? My face reflected back at me in the glass, eyes too wide and pale, and I let the curtain fall back in place, sliding down to the floor of the carriage, bracing my hands against either wall.

A low roar—Asterion!—thundered at my back, hooves stomped, and something was thrown down so heavily that it shook the ground and the walls and the glass windows and perhaps even the sky. The harpy screeched and the horses screamed, and I joined them, keening on the floor of the carriage, useless and frightened. Too afraid to run, to wipe away the hot streaks of tears coursing down my face or to press my hands to my chest and try and calm my heart.

I didn't want to go back. I didn't want to starve and suffer and be lonely again. I should've slid quietly into Marius and Lillian's home, nibbled on luxury. But in truth, now that I'd tasted what Asterion might offer, I didn't want nibbles either.

The worst came true, and the carriage door yanked open, tipping me forward. A brutal hand grasped my arm and dragged me along the floor. And if I would be stolen back, I would fight. I screamed, joining Asterion's roar—too far away now to save me, and no sweet snarls from Conall—and twisted on the floor, kicking my bare feet out and bracing them on either side of the door. A ghoul screamed back at me, the memory of a man's face twisted in endless horror, blood crusted down his dislocated jaw, over his throat and into the white collar of his torn shirt. He pulled so hard on my arm it yanked me upward, and I bent my knees and braced those too, slapping my hand against the roof.

The ghoul would tear my arm from my shoulder, or he would pull the carriage and me down on top of him, or he would drag me screaming and weeping out at last—I didn't know, but I would hold on for every second until the next worse thing did happen, because Idid notwant to go back there.

I was not a lodestone or a tool or a body to sleeve a monster's pleasure. I was a woman, and I wanted to live again!

Asterion's roar made my hand above my head weak, but it didn't matter because I didn't have to hold on. He stampeded into the ghoul, body bent forward, bright gold-tipped horns catching a last low beam of sunlight before they pierced the dusty, rotted chest of the ghoul and ripped it away from me. I fell backwards onto my ass as Asterion stomped out of view, but I scrambled up just as quickly. If I was going to be attacked, I wanted to be in reach of the minotaur.

I fell out of the carriage, clutching the door handle with my good hand—the other was numb from being pulled—and stared in disgusted relief as Asterion stomped down on the ghoul's head. Conall came running from my right, crowding close and only pausing when I flinched in instinct.

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