Page 39 of Princess of Thorns and Ruin

“I’m ready.”

She set a towel over her bare ass, but she didn’t quite adjust it right, the roundness of her butt on full display.

Stop looking at her ass, she’s too young for you.

Too young for me? She’s a freaking vampire. Ten years is nothing…

A professional massage… I can do this.

I rub the oil between my hands, the friction heating it up, and bite my bottom lip. My hands shake as I spread it over her smooth skin. She’s cool, but not cold. I trace the shape of her shoulder blades and unwind the tight muscles I find there.

An approving moan reaches my ears, the sound low and visceral.

Despite all my anguish, my dick has other ideas, and I’m infuriated by the desire coursing through my veins. It’s not at all like it was yesterday during my practice run. I can’t concentrate, and no matter how much I repeat to myself that I’m nothing but her slave, my body responds to her in ways I can’t even fathom.

Remember, you’re not going insane. Vampires are meant to attract their prey. It’s normal.

Heat fills my gut, and my raging erection strains painfully in my dark jeans. All the inner pep talk in the world would not be enough to tame my desire, and my touch grows heavier, a little rough around the edges. She hums in approval.

The temptation to dip my hands below the towel or wander too close to her breasts is almost undeniable.

She’s a virgin, and I know by now that the people responsible for her upbringing purposefully left her in the dark about sex. Until she marries, she’s meant to remain a maiden, that much is clear. I’m the only variable in this scenario, since I’m a man and our relationship can’t be policed by her brother.

Like Jean said, she can ask anything of me.

Right about now, I’d be inclined to give everything to her, but I can’t.

Sleeping with her means giving up what’s left of my soul. If I give in, there’ll be nothing left of the man I used to be.

Chapter 15

Tribunal

ARIELLE

The night court throne room is painted in the blood of our enemies, the blood of demons who broke the rules, and a pint of human blood to sweeten the scent. Agony spices the air, while the throne itself is understated, the chair cushioned with black leather and a silver trim. The Delacroix sigil burns behind it, the rose and cross drawn in flames across the wall.

Victor sits as our newly anointed king, and quite a few members of the court are present to witness his first tribunal. All demons, Fae, and other scraps of supernatural are bound to follow our laws. We’re the ones who make sure that no species or groups destroy the balance or challenge the three Laws of Hatten.

The first law is obvious. If enough normals learned of our existence, our way of life would be in jeopardy, so humans and demons who threaten to expose us are eliminated.

The second law states that no species shall reproduce beyond a certain number, so that all kinds of demons can survive.

The third law is trickier. It states that no individual shall harness enough power to be the sole leader of his people. That one is hard to put into action because of all the secrecy surrounding the hierarchy of most demonic clans.

I sit in the box reserved for the highest ranking member of the court and peruse the program, curious. It’s my first tribunal, and while I’ve read the transcripts of more than a hundred, it’s exhilarating to finally attend one in person. Eleanor’s name quickly glares back at me from the bottom part of the page.

Nomination renewal - Peter Chastain

Nomination renewal - Garrett Beaumont

Inquiry - The Louvre’s Clay Gargoyle

Determination of guilt - Fiero Ranza

Tender call - Sweden hunting party

Closed audience

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