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King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(39)

Author:Scarlett St. Clair

“They are scouting,” Adrian said.

“But we are still in Lara.”

I didn’t see the need to be on guard. Adrian and I had made an agreement, and no matter how angry my people were about the arrangement, they would honor my father.

“Do monsters not lurk in your shadows?” he asked. He was referring to things that lurk in the dark—the strzyga, the virika, revenants, the ker—all creatures that were like Adrian but different in how they appeared and the way they fed upon life.

“Are you not their king?” I retorted, frustrated by his sarcasm.

“I am the king of vampires,” he said. “I am not the king of monsters.”

“There is no difference,” I said.

I did not know Adrian very well, but I could tell my comment frustrated him. That shapely jaw tightened, and I felt triumphant. I’d learned that the true measure of men was how they handled their anger. Would he be like Killian and lash out if I pushed too hard?

“You seem to believe I spawned all dark things,” he said, his voice maintaining that silky quality, and he delivered his words with no hint of frustration.

It was what we were told—that all dark things came from the Blood King. That when he partook of sacred life, the blood that dropped to the earth created monsters.

Beside me, he laughed. “That is a lie.”

“Enlighten me, Your Majesty,” I said.

“I turn humans into vampires,” he said. “But even I have rules. The monsters you know of—the strzyga, the virika, revenants, the ker—they were created by Asha.”

“No,” I said immediately. “The goddess of life would never corrupt it.”

I was not a worshipper of the goddesses, but even I did not think Asha would create such heinous creatures.

“Never forget, my queen, that goddesses are just humans with great power.”

With his comment, he moved ahead to Daroc’s side as if he no longer wished to ride beside me. I watched him, wishing that I could pitch an arrow into his back, but I considered what he said about the goddesses and found that I did not think so differently. There were many others who suffered worse attacks, worse experiences, and yet were far more devout. They wore their hardships like badges of honor and their faith like weapons, and I did not understand it.

I glanced to my left as Sorin meandered up beside me and extended his hand, a piece of dried…something clutched between his fingers.

“What is that?” I asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Beef,” he said with a grin. “You want some?”

“Why are you eating beef? Can you eat beef?”

I only knew vampires to sustain themselves with blood. I wondered how long it would be before I witnessed a vampire feed from a mortal, and was not looking forward to the display.

“The mortals seem to love it,” he said, and then he sniffed. “And I can eat anything I want.”

“He’ll throw it up later,” said Isac from behind us.

“It’s disgusting,” Miha added. “But he keeps doing it.”

“Let me live my life,” Sorin snapped, glaring at them. I tried hard not to smile but failed. When Sorin looked back at me, he wiggled the beef stick in my face. “Take it. I know you’re hungry. I can hear it.”

I raised a brow. “Is that another power I should know about? Superior hearing?”

“I’d say yes but even the mortals at the back of the line can hear your stomach growling.”

I frowned. I was hungry, and I hadn’t been able to bring myself to eat dinner this evening, so I took the dried beef and tore a piece off, chewing vigorously. The meat was hard and papery but not unpleasant. I was just glad to have something in my stomach.

“Thank you, Sorin,” I said.

“Of course, my queen.”

We continued for a few hours more, stopping once to water the horses.

Instead of leading the horses to water, the vampires filled buckets for the horses to draw from. I left Midnight’s side, hoping to sink my hands into the cool river, but as I knelt on the bank, a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

“Do not touch the water.”

I looked up into Daroc’s severe face and rose to my feet. With his warning issued and no explanation, he left me.

“Ignore him. He isn’t very polite, though he means well,” Sorin said, coming to stand beside me.

“I think he hates me.”

“He doesn’t, but he is very focused on duty. You are his responsibility. He will take personal offense if you are hurt on his watch.”

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