CHAPTER 30: THIRTY

I lift my chin in defiance. "And why, in all hells, would I help you?"

King Lucien doesn’t sigh. He doesn’t pinch the bridge of his nose. He laughs with a delighted clap, like I’ve performed a trick just for his entertainment. "There it is. The bite. I was beginning to wonder if you’d grown dull."

My grip on the books tightens until the leather creaks. "If I do this, I risk fracturing my own mind. Seeing things that could scar me for the rest of my life. And for what? Because you’re King? Because you expect the world to bow and bleed just because you exist? Because you’ll boil me alive in a cauldron of oil and feed my guts to me?"

He runs his tongue over his fangs and nods in agreement. "Yes."

A chuckle curls low in my stomach. "You won’t kill me. You won’t kill my mother, either. She’s the leash you keep around my neck. You need me. If you want me to tear my sanity apart for you, give me a reason."

The temperature in the chamber drops and invisible frost kisses my skin. The air stirs and I feel the whisper of a hand on my throat before he fully materialises a breath away from me. "A reason," he purrs, his voice echoing through the walls of my mind.

I jolt at the featherlight caress against the mark on my neck as he closes in, his body a living conduit of heat. The books slip from my grasp, thudding to the floor. I stumble back, only to be caught by his grip, iron tight on my nape. His claws graze the base of my skull, and with a sharp tug, he forces my head back until my mouth parts for him, whether I will it or not.

"Every time you bare your teeth," he murmurs, eyes glowing like wildfire, "You forget they belong to me."

A thumb drags across my lip, pressing until I gasp. Then he pushes his finger past, sliding into my mouth.

Rage flares hot in my blood and I bring my teeth down with vehemence, jaw locking with as much fury as I can muster. But he only laughs, eyes brightening with depraved excitement as he pulls his finger free, bloodied and possibly broken.

His blood floods my tongue. Metallic. Sweet. Wrong. Something rattles in my chest and gods, I despise him, but my body acts ahead of my brain, his hold on me far stronger than I could’ve fathom.

My tongue darts out and licks his blood from my lips, my gums aching to sink my teeth into his neck. To hear him grunt, cry, even moan, while I inflict on him what he has on me.

His nostrils flare, eyes flashing with dangerous emotion.

"You’ll help me for the same reason you stayed last night. Because you’re curious. You want to see where this leads you. You want to know what happens when you get too close to the flame, because like me, you have a reckless streak of shitting in the face of order. Rules." He leans in, lowering his frighteningly tall frame so that he can whisper against the curve of my ear, "You’ll help me, because last night was the first time you learned what it meant to burn. And now you crave more. And who better to give it to you than me?"

"I don’t--"

Claws slice into my nape and we both gasp. My head snaps up and the chandelier above fades into darkness.

*****

His mouth finds mine, and I whisper his name. It unravels him. I feel it in the tremor of his hands, the shudder of his breath. My chest aches with how much I love him. How much I need him. My Prince.

The scenery shifts.

The ground is trembling beneath hooves, the wind ripping my hair from its braids. He rides hard, desperate, terrified. My pulse beats with his, our bond choking me with his fear. The forest is a blur, and I know before he does that he will be too late.

Blood. So much blood. It soaks into the soil, warm beneath my cheek. I hear him screaming my name, raw and feral, but I cannot answer. My lips will not move. I’m exhausted. Why did he leave us? He promised.

The current takes me back and forth in time. One foot in and out of two places. One that promises pleasure. The other grief. I can’t tell if it’s him I feel, or her, or me. All I know is the grief tastes the same as the pleasure. It burns, it shreds, it consumes.

My hands are twisted in the sheets, my back arched in the air. His body presses behind me, hands gripping my throat, holding me in place as his hips slam into mine. Every kiss a vow, every touch reverent, yet vile. My claws split on the wood as I scream his name, wanting him deeper, closer, always.

"I am yours," I vow, and the way he shakes tells me he is mine too. "In this lifetime and the next."

Forward--

I see him fall from his horse, stumble, crawl through the dirt, through my blood. His hands cradle me, shaking, breaking, his mouth on mine as if he can breathe me back into life. His tears are hot on my face. Begging the gods to take him instead. His heart is breaking inside my chest, and I cannot hold it together for him.

Back--

I ride him like he is my whole world, and he is. My Prince. My King. He would burn the stars from the sky to keep me. I would burn with him. My chest is too full. My soul too bright. I cannot imagine a world without this moment, without him.

I look in the mirror as we move in synch. Red hair. Green eyes. Blood red lips. Breasts slick with sweat and cum. I grin, head tipping back as his claws tear into my skin, his long, light lashes fluttering while he begs. Because he will only ever beg for me, pray to me.

Forward--

Silence. Cold. Darkness swallowing the light from his eyes as he realizes I am gone. The bond tears, a scream echoing in both our souls--

*****

When I rip free of the vision, I am gasping, trembling, my entire body locked against King Lucien’s. His claws still dig into my nape, my fist clenched tight in his robe, our breaths tangled.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. The weight of what I saw, what I felt, claws at me, refusing to let go, and I clutch him tighter, harder.

His eyes are dazed, his breaths ragged. "Get out," he says, but there is no bite to it. "Get. Out," he repeats, but he doesn’t stop holding me.

Instead, his head lowers, mine rising helplessly to meet him. Bewitching eyes lock on mine, widening as he realizes in the same moment that I do that we’re still back there, in that bedroom. Still bound. Still burning. My mouth dries, a deep well of hunger unfurling in my stomach as the mark on my skin burns to hell.

I might as well have set my clothes on fire.

His silver brows furrow in confusion, "This... can’t..." His breath ghosts my mouth. His fingers tremble as they guide my face closer. His nose brushes mine, a soft, aching contradiction to the claws still at my throat. "I--"

The door crashes open. "Lucy-bear!"

We tear apart like thieves caught mid-heist. My knees slam into something solid, tripping me. I hit the ground hard, breathless, staring up at King Lucien as he whirls toward the intruder, ears burning beet red though his face has already settled back into its cruel mask.

Nothing left of the man who had been about to...

Well, now. It’s less surprising that he’d try to kiss me. He’s been trying to get into my pants long before ever meeting me, like he can’t seem to decide if he wants to touch me or dismember me.

The intruder is a woman no taller than I am. Swatted in pink silk and gossamer, she stands by the door, hands braced on the billowing skirts of her dress. Her black hair is braided into a crown at the top of her head, teardrops glittering from the piercings on her ears. All ten of them.

Her eerie blue eyes flick from the King to where I sit on the floor and her mouth forms an ’O’. "Shall I return later, cousin? Or may join in?" She grins with mischief at me. "This is him? I suppose I expected taller, but gods, he looks delicious."

Is there not one normal person in this entire castle?

Dragging my ass off the floor, I retrieve my books hurriedly, quite sure I left two or three behind, and I don’t wait for his command or his dismissal before fleeing from his chambers.