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A Dowry of Blood (A Dowry of Blood #1)(39)

Author:S.T. Gibson

In that moment, a thin fracture ran through my heart that has never been repaired. It was a wound in the shape of Alexi’s name, and I scarcely knew how to hold all that feeling inside me. My heart was expanding, making room for him in a world already defined by two great loves, and it hurt so sweetly. But this was different from my obsession with you and my passion for Magdalena. This was the love of the maid for the children in her care, all springtime bloom and tender affection.

It wasn’t that I didn’t desire him as well. He was breathtaking to look at and the sweet fragrance of his blood ghosted over his skin like baking sugar, making my mouth water. It was just that my will to protect him was that much stronger.

At the time I thought I was protecting him from the world. From war and famine and poverty. But now I know I was also steeling myself to protect him from a much more present threat.

You.

I just wasn’t ready to admit that bit to myself yet.

You led him out the door with your arm possessively around his shoulders, Magdalena and I trailing behind with our arms wound together. The coach waited invitingly, sleek polished walnut gleaming in the winter weather like black blood on new snow.

“Are we going to do it now?” Alexi asked, looking up at you with round eyes. “You said — ”

“Discretion,” you chided, pulling him closer so no one in the street would overhear. “You promised you were capable of it.”

“I am! I just wondered — ”

“Yes, we’re going to do it now, little prince.”

The coach was dim and warm, stuffed with furs and outfitted with a bottle of cold champagne. Alexi settled himself gingerly into his seat like he had never travelled in such accommodations before. His blue eyes gleamed invitingly in the darkness as you helped Magdalena and then myself into the coach. Finally, you swung yourself inside and ordered the driver to take us all home.

Your mouth was on his the instant the door was closed, seeking his kiss like a grieving man seeks strong drink. Alexi shuddered and bloomed under your lips, sliding one arm around your neck while the other reached out for Magdalena. She settled in close beside Alexi, nuzzling at his neck, while I took my seat at your feet. You broke the kiss long enough to turn to me and take my face in your hands, leaving Alexi and Magdalena to each other.

You kissed me deeply, your usually frigid mouth warm with the taste of him, and my muscles slackened beneath your ministrations. Alexi chased Magdalena’s kisses with a grin, his white teeth flashing in the confines of the coach. Within moments her hat had been discarded and her hair was falling in ringlets past her shoulders.

“I love you,” you said into my mouth. It sounded like you were drawing up a peace treaty to protect the boundary lines of contested ground. “I promise you that.”

My throat was tight, either with fear or desire or the strange foreboding that had been nipping at my heels since the moment I set eyes on Alexi. I needed fresh air, but the coach was hot and close, and we were already trundling down the road. There was nowhere for me to go. There had never been anywhere for me to go.

“Alexi,” you said, voice rough with want. You hauled him onto your lap and took his jaw in your hand. Your grip was just tight enough to leave divots in his skin as the heavy seal coat slipped from his shoulders.

“Are you sure you really want this?” you asked. “You can leave, if you’d like.”

Alexi gazed at you, lips reddened with Magdalena’s lipstick, his eyes clouded over with an abject devotion so familiar it went through my heart like a dagger. I knew that look. I knew what it felt like to be held by you, suspended in place like a fly trapped in a web. There was no saying no to you, not now, when you had drawn Alexi into your world of lust and finery. He had passed the point of no return the moment you first smiled at him.

I tried very hard not to think of when that might have been. Of how long you had been planning to spirit this boy away.

Alexi wrapped his fingers around your wrist and slid your hand down so it was around his neck, pressing lightly against his jugular.

“This is all I want,” he said. “I’m yours.”

You looked into his eyes curiously, perhaps wondering if he knew how easy it would be for you to snap his neck. Knowing Alexi, I suspect he did.

“I promise you bread and roe,” you declared. “Pheasant and mackerel, vodka and pomegranates, from now until eternity. Chairmen and ballerinas will dine at our table and you will know nothing but bounty.”

Alexi kissed you again, hungry for his own annihilation. You wound your fingers through my own, drawing me closer, and Magdalena pressed in on your other side, her dark eyes shining with want.

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