Page 46 of A Throne of Blood and Ice

I take a step back.

Blaise shoots a glare at me, and I wonder if I’ve offended her again, but then she spreads the ancient text out onto the counter, smoothing down the weathered pages with her pale fingers.

I stifle a laugh when I notice the dog-eared corners of the parchment.

Now it’s Gunter’s turn to hold himself back from harming our prisoner.

“I figured it’s not powerful enough on its own. Even the comet wasn’t powerful enough, which is why they used the blood sacrifices,” she says, running her finger over the text to trace the words. My attention catches on the blue veins that snake across the backs of her hands, and I find my mind wandering, wondering how those veins would feel underneath my lips.

I can hardly hear her over the sound of her pulse, thrumming and excited as she explains her theory, but I force my thoughts into submission, mooring them to the sound of her voice.

“I thought that if they could use a blood sacrifice to enhance the power of the comet, maybe we could do the same thing, except with something more powerful than a blood sacrifice to make up for the lack of power from the moon.”

“Magic doesn’t work exactly like arithmetic,” I say, which she pretends not to hear as she looks to Gunter for a response.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I suppose it could work.”

“And what are you proposing we do to enhance the blood sacrifice?” I ask, ignoring how thrilled I am when my question returns her attention back to me.

“I’m not the magister, am I?” she says. “I was rather hoping you intelligent boys could tell me.”

Her brown eyes go sharp with determination—but that’s not all there is. I recognize the look, because it’s mirrored in me. The excitement of a potential discovery, the thrill of pieces clinking about in your mind, just to finally experience the cathartic satisfaction when they finally slide snugly together.

“We’d need something powerful,” I say.

“I’m pretty sure I already said that,” she says, bouncing to the balls of her feet in smug delight.

“It’s unlikely to be a pleasurable experience for you,” I warn.

Blaise just winks and says, “Maybe I’m a masochist.”

Fates smite me—my canines puncture my gums, but I hide them with a close-lipped smirk.

“We’re not likely to find something that powerful by the next full moon.”

She leans in closer, basically on her tiptoes now. “But the next?”

I let out a measured sigh and rub at my ever-aching temples, mostly to steel myself as she draws closer. It’s a good thing Gunter’s here. In fact, that’s probably intentional on his part.

It’s a reminder to take a swig from the canister strapped to my side. The coppery liquid stings on my tongue, but it curbs the cravings, at least.

“The next? Maybe,” I say.

If I can keep my teeth out of Blaise’s neck until then, that is.

Blaise’s scentfollows me all the way back to my chambers.

So does Gunter.

I’ve hardly shut the door behind us when he starts with, “You’re attracted to the girl.”

I let out a startled huff and set about finding places for the empty, bloodstained goblets that litter the floor.

Servants don’t like to come pick up my soiled dishes once the news spreads that I’ve had an episode.

I can’t exactly blame them.

“Don’t feel the need to tidy on my account,” Gunter says, and there’s no amusement in his tone.

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