“I cut off his head. The blade was dull.”
I was not surprised by his choice of weapon or the brutal way in which he’d chosen to execute the former king of Revekka, and because of the last two days, I had no trouble imagining him hacking away at Dragos’s neck until his head rolled.
“And I kept it on a pike outside the gates where our treasonous dead are now. His body lay beneath it, and it was picked apart until it was nothing more than bones.”
“And the bones?” I had not imagined he would give Dragos the satisfaction of a burial in any form.
“Look closer at my throne the next time we hold court,” he said.
Something in the pit of my stomach twisted sharply. Adrian had built an empire on the bones of his greatest enemy. A month ago, I would have been disgusted, but life at Adrian’s court had changed my opinion on his brutality. There was no room for vulnerability here, no room for forgiveness. It was conquer or be killed.
Dragos had taught us that, and he had taken everything.
So had Ravena.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I raised a brow. Adrian could hear my thoughts, but not always. I think it had become harder to break through the numbness that overwhelmed me since my father’s death. “You cannot tell?”
“Your emotions are quite tame,” he replied.
I didn’t believe him. I felt like chaos, but I respected that he asked.
“I am thinking about how I will fashion a throne from Ravena’s bones.”
The corners of Adrian’s lips curled, and he leaned closer, his breath on my lips as he spoke. “If that is your wish, I shall build it myself.”
Then his warm mouth was on mine, and his arm tightened around my waist. He was an anchor I grasped in the darkness of my grief, the only thing that brought feeling, and I craved this—his heat, our madness, the distraction.
I clung to him, my fingers digging into his biceps as his mouth left mine, lips trailing over my jaw and neck, his tongue caressing my skin, and I ceased to breathe when I felt the scrape of his teeth there. He seemed to notice and pulled away.
“I do not have to feed,” he said, his hand lifting to brush my cheek. “But I do want you.”
Adrian had not taken my blood since the night he had first fed from me. When I asked him, he said, “I need you strong.” And yet when dawn broke in a few hours, he would leave once more to hunt for the last two rebels—his former noblesse, Gesalac and Julian.
I needed him strong for that.
“I am well enough,” I said.
“You aren’t sleeping,” he said.
“Who needs sleep,” I said, rising on the tips of my toes and lacing my arms around his neck, “when there is so much we could do?”
His hands were on my hips, but he was still.
“Adrian,” I said, his name a breathless whisper, and my eyes fell to his lips once more, my fingers trailing his cheek. “Please.”
It wasn’t until I looked into his eyes that he caved, and his mouth collided with mine. I basked in the way my mind went blank, the horror and the anger of these last few days replaced by a blissful heat that seemed to swell, filling me to bursting, but making me aware of how much I needed this, needed him.
Adrian’s fingers dug into my skin, and he guided me until my back hit the wall where he pinned my wrists so he could kiss me uninhibited, lips tracing a path to my breasts, which he lavished with attention. Even through the fabric of my nightdress, the teasing was exquisite, and my hands were soon free to rake through his hair and drag his mouth back to mine.
Between us, Adrian untied his robe and hiked my shift up before lifting my leg, cradling the back of my knee over his arm, his erection pressed into my heat. I sucked in a sharp breath, my head falling back on a moan, exposing my neck, where he kissed and nipped at my skin, his voice a heady rumble.
“I love the way you taste,” he said, grinding into me until I felt too hollow, too empty.
“I need you inside me,” I said, my hands on his shoulders, ready to give him the leverage he needed to cure my desperation. “Give me your come and you can have my blood.”
He chuckled breathlessly. “Oh, Sparrow. I will fill you to bursting.”
Our position against the wall did not give me the opportunity to watch as he guided himself inside me, but I felt him, exhaling as he slid deeper and began to thrust. I couldn’t catch my breath as each wave of pleasure rose higher than the last. I was drowning in this and I never wanted to resurface.
“Isolde,” Adrian said, and I opened my eyes. He stared back, gaze fierce and lustful. “Look at me.”
He cupped the back of my neck, his other hand pressed flat to the wall, and he moved deeper, ground against me harder. I lost control of my expression, my mouth caught between moans, grinding my teeth, and biting my lip. When the first keening cry bubbled from my lips, Adrian descended, his sharp teeth cutting into my skin.
I clung to him, nails digging into his flesh. He still moved inside me, but slower, timing the pull of his lips with the thrust of his hips. He drew back once to kiss my mouth before returning to the wound he’d made, and with the taste of my blood on my lips, I followed each wave of pain and pleasure until it dragged me into darkness.
***
I woke with the memory of how Adrian had filled me and fucked me and bit me, and I had ascended into something ethereal and divine—something that had taken me from sorrow to bliss. I wanted to go back, to reclaim that power, but I was once more in this mournful body and confused.
How had I gotten to bed?
There was movement to my right, and I shifted to find Adrian standing near the window, bathed in the bloodred light of Revekka’s dawn. He wore armor that glinted gold and silver as he turned to look at me. He had pulled his hair back, and the angles of his face showed sharply, contoured by shadow.
He was fierce, frighteningly beautiful, and already bathed in red.
“Do you expect to be injured?” I asked as I sat up, pushing the blankets from my body, already feeling better without their weight. I had never seen Adrian wear armor, not when he came to claim my kingdom and not when we made our return to Revekka.
It startled me, and I had to work to swallow the panic that rose into my throat, knowing I could not protest his departure. This was necessary to the survival of our kingdom—to what Adrian had built and what we would continue to build together.
Adrian offered a small smile, as if he thought my concern was cute rather than valid.
“It’s merely a precaution,” he said. “I am no longer hunting mortals.”
Today he would search for Gesalac and Julian, whom Sorin had not been able to track beyond the borders of our land, which meant they were likely hiding, harbored by Revekkians. Or were they relying on the land for shelter until they could begin the next phase of their plan?
And what was that plan?
Of the two, I feared Gesalac more. He was the most outspoken and perhaps had the greatest vendetta against Adrian, as he had killed Gesalac’s son after I had grown annoyed by his continued harassment. I’d snapped when he’d touched me and drove a knife into his neck.
Adrian had finished the job.
Julian was less imposing, but he, like Gesalac, saw me as the enemy, and it was his opinion of me that had cost him his eye.