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King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(27)

Author:Scarlett St. Clair

The priestess continued, instructing us to repeat her next words, and as she did, the slither of the cord caressed my skin, and my fingers tightened around Adrian’s, an unconscious move that came with the vows I spoke.

“These hands will feed you, protect you, and guide you. These hands will ease your pain and carry your burdens. They will hold you and comfort you…”

My gaze lifted to Adrian, who watched me with fire in his eyes, and I wondered if his hands would ever offer anything our vows promised. At my thought, his lips curled, and I already knew his mind well enough to guess his vulgar retort.

“And so the binding is made,” the priestess finished. “As your hands are bound together, so your lives and souls are joined.”

With our hands bound and our vows sworn, Adrian’s mouth covered mine. I braced myself for his kiss, expecting something akin to the passion he’d displayed in my chamber, but all he offered was a quick press of his lips to mine, then another on the edge of my lips before he straightened.

We turned together, facing our small gathering, and I noticed my father waving a servant forward. The man carried a tray upon which was a loaf of hard bread. I looked to my father.

“We thought it best you break bread here.”

Part of the handfasting tradition was the practice of breaking bread as husband and wife, usually at a banquet that would follow the ceremony. I had not considered that there would be no feast in celebration of my new husband. This was meant to be a quiet affair, except that while everyone in my kingdom could pretend it never happened, I would still be living this nightmare.

Adrian did not argue or challenge the arrangement. It was likely he knew this was for the best. If we had held a feast, it would have included human and vampire, and despite the agreement, it would have been wrought with tension that inevitably led to bloodshed.

Adrian took the bread and pulled a piece from the loaf.

“Hungry, Sparrow?”

“Starving,” I said, meaning to sound sarcastic. Instead, I sounded breathless.

Adrian placed a hand upon my face while he brought the bread to my lips. I opened for him, and as he pushed the food into my mouth, I bit down on his thumb.

He inhaled between his teeth, his hand tightening in my hair, and he brought my head close to his as if he meant to kiss me. There was movement around us as Adrian tugged his finger free of my mouth, his lips pulling away from his teeth as he smiled.

“I am sure you meant to harm. Lucky for you, I like teeth.”

He released me and I glared at him, breaking a piece of bread to feed him, but before I could, his finger caught my wrist, holding my hand in place as he took the bread into his mouth, sucking my fingers before he released. I inhaled as my cheeks flushed, embarrassed by Adrian’s display. Even if he had not been the enemy of my people, I was not keen on public displays of affection.

He released me suddenly, and I swallowed hard, my eyes leaving his to look anywhere else.

“Isolde, go with Nadia,” my father said.

Every sense that had been heightened within me bottomed out. My face drained of all warmth, and my stomach twisted and soured. Even the air changed, thickening. Everyone, even my father, knew what I was being sent off for—to prepare for tonight.

My hand was still tied to Adrian’s. I lifted it between us, but before I could move, his lithe fingers were already in motion. It was strange to watch his lethal hands carefully work the cord free. I expected viciousness from this man, knowing that he was capable of it, and yet here, in the Sanctuary of Asha, one would never guess he was a warlord.

The soft cord slipped from my hands, and Adrian’s eyes lifted to mine.

“I’ll keep this on hand,” he said. “For tonight.”

I knew he wasn’t joking, and it wasn’t his words that frustrated me so much as his tone. He had made light of our consummation during this whole event, and in front of my father. My anger boiled over, and I gathered as much saliva in my mouth as possible before spitting in his face.

“Isolde!” Commander Killian spoke my name, and I felt his hand on my arm as if he wished to whisk me away before Adrian retaliated, except that Adrian’s cold gaze turned to him instead of me.

“Release my wife, Commander,” Adrian said. “You insult me by assuming I would harm her.”

“Let her go, Killian.” It was my father who spoke.

I could tell by Killian’s grip that he did not want to release me, so I jerked in his grasp until he did and glared at Adrian.

“I anger you,” he said. “I am sorry. We will speak of this later. Go with your maid.”

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