Page 42 of The Sacrifice

The servant arrives, and Drago has the platter propped on a nearby table. Shoulders sinking in both defeat and relief, I smile at the King from what I hope are sultry, lowered lashes. Belly fluttering, I accept every morsel of food he gives me: hearty cutlets of pork and berry sauce, chilled and spiced fruit soup, and sweet ginger cakes. One more goblet of wine. I suspect he hopes I will lose my resolve and make a mistake.

I don’t.

With a low rumbling growl, which I feel resonating from his chest, Drago grumbles, “You win, my Queen. Now, ride my cocks to your heart’s content while the Court wishes they could watch me take my sweet pet upon my throne.”

Finally! I don’t hesitate. Biting my lower lip, I mischievously grind against the dragon before sliding up and down. There is little doubt as to what is happening, but my skirts are plentiful enough to hide our intimate regions.

He claims my mouth in a ravishing kiss, his tongue flicking against mine and tasting every trace inside. “You taste of oranges. And smell of cloves,” he murmurs against the corner of my mouth. “You’ll be the life and death of me, woman. Now, fucking ride your dragon.”

I whimper. Though I do my best to rock slowly, my limbs begin to quake, hinting at what is to come. A deep groan rumbles from Drago’s chest, which reverberates through my body from how I rub my upper half against him. With an exasperated grunt, Drago grips my hips and urges me on, until I’m tipping my head back and clenching every inner muscle around him. We feed off each other while flames curl in rippling currents from our chests and where we are joined. The King swells and hardens, scales flaring, ridges rousing, neck muscles tensing. He fucks me from below, thrusting in a frenzy of demanding need, deepening the penetration.

“So goddamn tight, Tessie. You’re mine. This is mine...” he rubs my pussy, and it gushes more from his touch. “That’s it, dirty girl. Drip all over me.”

The moment he cups my face, forcing my eyes to meet his, I shatter from their possession. The pressure inside me snaps, and I shriek right there on the throne from the pleasure shimmering through me. Drago fucks me through the orgasm, thrusting inside me until he snarls his release, primal and dominant.

In these moments, my old life grows further and further away. My mind struggles to remember the history of Hollow Nights, of how much blood was shed from their claws and teeth, how many girls met their end. But when he takes me like this and cares for me after, when he held me beyond the woods after I’d escaped the witch in the woods, it’s more than possession. It’s a powerful drive to protect me, on some innate and carnal level I can’t even fathom.

These embers alight on my skin have something to do with it. At first, I’d believed it was a normal power exchange born of their magic as gods. But I can’t control the power, unlike Drago. And whenever it fades from his body, he’s desperate to fuck me...as if I’m responsible for kindling his flames.

“You will not wipe off my cum, little Tessie,” he whispers in my ear, raising the hairs on the back of my neck as I glance back at the Court. “You will dance, and I will pleasure in watching you, knowing everyone will smell my scent upon your pretty thighs.”

Part of me considers refusing just so I may reap a punishment later, but I’ve longed to dance for much of this night. In the Borderlands, I was never permitted to attend any town dances. Pater didn’t see much point when I’d never secure a match, and the revelry was wasted on a cursed girl. So, I’m making up for lost time.

Once I twirl chaotically across the expanse, I understand why Drago wanted his scent on me. With how many bodies have tangled with one another on floor couches, enough lust cloys the air to warrant caution. A thrill surges through me because I don’t need to be careful thanks to the King’s cum drying upon my legs. When I finish whirling across the expanse of the Court, far too dizzy from the wine and the music, I turn so I may blow him a grateful kiss.

Strong hands snatch me by the waist, pluck me from the floor, and haul me into an arched alcove. Panic ices my blood until I make out the familiar face within the shadows. The eyes of pure, stygian black. My nerves spin out of control when he coils his claws around my throat and growls low in my ear.

“Little dove...you may have charmed my brother with your pretty pussy, but he will grow tired of you as he has with all others in the past ten thousand years. You are nothing but a little pet.”

Pulse pounding, I tilt my head to the side and beam up at Merikh, playing with darkness and danger as I always do. “Considering I am nothing but a pet whore, Lord Merikh, I am so honored you give any consideration to my pretty pussy.”

He huffs, baring his fangs. If I had any sense of self-preservation, I’d exercise more caution with the vampire king. As soon as I try to light my palm on his chest, the vampire seizes my wrist and twists it behind my back, which only brings his chest to bed down upon mine. With his breath warm and spicy upon my face, I part my lips and arch my neck. Never daring to look away.

“You think you can tame us or change us?” he challenges while rubbing his thumb upon my bottom lip. “We will strip apart everything you are until all that’s left are our claws upon your soul.”

“Please be careful, lord Merikh, they are such nice claws,” I coo and tap the ones he’s bound around my throat. “I wouldn’t want you to dirty them on my poor soul.”

Merikh’s pupils turn red with bloodlust, bloating to overwhelm the black irises. When he leans in, my breath stutters in my lungs while heat consumes me. It’s the closest he’s come in days, but I remember the moment he touched my wrist in the dungeon. From the obsession in his eyes to the care and conquest when he marked me. It hadn’t escaped me how he’d gone before Drago.

When his lips feather across mine in the barest of touches, I close my eyes. Remain motionless. Become a shadow with him here in this alcove. The chill of his body consumes mine. Unmoving, I embrace it, welcome it, wondering if a monster can be tamed, or if I even want to.

At the sound of the music dying in mid-song and all the laughter and lust of the Court perishing, I knit my brows low, confused.

“Listen to me now, little dove,” Merikh breathes the command against my lips. “You will return to Drago’s room and stay there until he comes for you. And if you so much as consider running, I will hunt you down and bring you back to him in fucking pieces. Do you understand?”

“Are you concerned for me for some reason, Lord Merikh?” I sweetly inquire.

“Don’t test me,” he warns, stabbing a claw toward my face. “Do not test us. Go now, or I’ll bloody your goddamn ass, so you won’t sit down for a month.”

I scurry away down the hall. Not because of his threat but because of the urgency in his voice. But just as I reach the staircase leading to Drago’s tower, I overhear the announcer thunder in the Court, “Kneel before the Ruler of the Five Realms, Lord of the Veil, and the Eater of the Gods, Emperor Kronos.”

A shock wave ripples through my chest. Why is the god-eater here?

31

"Hello, boys! Daddy's come for a visit."

DRAGO

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