Page 61 of Princess of Thorns and Ruin

I’ve studied this. I’ve been warned against the temptations that come with my new body and the insidious ways they can be used to manipulate me.

The rich pulse of an opened vein.

The dizzying effect of music on our enhanced ears.

The debauchery of flesh brushing flesh, the need to be touched the most treacherous need of all.

I’ve been raised to believe that I am above all the tricks that royals use to retain power. We offer our subjects the very distractions that make them weak and easier to control. I’ve only ever heard about the particular tastes of the Pereira clan in lewd rumors, and I couldn’t quite believe it until this moment. The delicious perfume of old wine and fresh blood clogs the air, and I hear the humming in my bones. I understand why those distractions are so appealing. Who’d choose politics and duty over this dance of the senses, this tailored offering of everything my body longs for?

Warmth. Sex. Oblivion.

To feel so much that you feel nothing.

My heart thuds along sluggishly as I greet my host and soon-to-be husband. No matter how often I repeat the words in my head, they still sound wrong and distorted.

King Felipe stands and raises his big golden cup as I draw near. “Come, my sweet, and admire your kingdom.”

A bit of wine spills to the floor and splashes on my velvet slippers.

“It’s beautiful,” I say politely, knowing no good can come out of antagonizing an inebriated king.

“Ah. I know that look. You’ll get used to the noise. You’ll even learn to love it. Your court is still denying the essence of what we are.”

“And what are we?”

“Better.” His crooked smile is all teeth and thorns. “Here’s a gift for you, my sweet.”

A servant hands him a square box. He opens it for me, plucks the necklace from its velvet bed, and quickly snakes it around my throat. “A token to mark our engagement. I want you to wear it for our wedding tomorrow.”

The heavy metal snares around my neck, the crude links of the necklace reminiscent of a chain.

“It’s…unique,” I say, unable to conjure the word beautiful for such a bizarre piece of jewelry.

“Everything that matters is. That’s what separates us from everyone else. The power we yield makes us the most unique of our kin, my sweet, and that sets us apart, forever.”

The wide-eyed women sitting at the base of his throne already have bite marks on their necks, and beads of sweat shine on their foreheads. Sebastian’s party had similar tones, but it doesn’t compare. I suppose that, in some ways, we are the same, but we’re being more subtle about it. Maybe it’s better to have our lust for blood, sex, and violence in the open. Maybe that’s the point.

Just as I’m about to find some wisdom in Felipe’s words, he adds, “I’m not sure I can wait until tomorrow.”

“You’ll have to,” I answer quickly, but Felipe’s slimy hand reaches down to the soft flesh of my ass.

Before I can move, Alec immobilizes the king’s wrist in mid-air. “Hands off, or I will tear out your arm.”

His deadly calm tone shivers through me, and I glance at the dancers, wondering if anyone is watching. The last thing I need is for Alec to be arrested.

“Are you stupid, boy?” Felipe snickers in disbelief.

“Hands. Off.”

“I’m King.”

“You’re no king of mine, and my princess has respectfully asked you to wait,” Alec repeats patiently, the way you speak to a spoiled, rowdy child.

I sidestep away from Felipe and try to defuse the situation. “You can wait another day, surely? I’m sure these women will gladly take care of you.”

“Ah yes, they will. Tomorrow, then.” The wickedness of his smile tells me I’ll pay for this, one way or another. Look at that tight ass, I bet she’ll bleed when I enter her.

The aftertaste of the king’s crude thought turns my blood to ice, and I take advantage of a new Lord’s arrival to sneak away. Shaking from head to toe, I elbow my way through the dancers, Alec quick on my heels.

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