Home > Books > King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(60)

King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(60)

Author:Scarlett St. Clair

The walls and ceilings of the castle were the same deep red, intricately cut with sweeping designs—vaulted ceilings, interlaced arches, high and pointed windows. If the windows were in Lara, they would have allowed for the halls to be filled with light, but because they were in Revekka, a strange hazy red loomed outside.

“Come. I will take you to your rooms and send for Ana,” Adrian said.

I did not argue. My head was pounding, and my arm still burned from the girl’s touch. We took the steps slowly, and just as I was about to comment on Adrian’s patience, he paused on the step and shifted toward me.

“Let me carry you,” he said.

“That is hardly the introduction I need to your people.”

It would be hard enough to be human in a castle full of vampires without Adrian encouraging them to see me as weak.

“They will not think you are weak,” he said.

But he did not ask again, and we continued, cresting the stairs, heading to our left where another set of stairs led into a darker hallway. My suite was at the very end. It was large, with a four-poster bed, velvet coverlets and curtains, and plush rugs covering every inch of cold stone. I was glad that the fireplace felt so far away from the bed, as it contained a healthy fire.

I expected Adrian to leave me at the door, but instead, he followed me inside.

“Ana will need the fire when she looks at your wound. After, it will not get above an ember, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“You will rest after she leaves.”

I arched a brow at his command, though my body softened at the thought of sleep in a real bed.

“You must be well enough to attend tonight’s festivities,” he added in response to my questioning stare.

“What is happening tonight?”

“We are celebrating my return and our marriage,” he said. “It will be your first introduction to my people, and while I know you are not eager to meet them, I’m sure we can both agree that first impressions are everything.”

“You do not count our rushed entrance to the castle as a first impression?” I asked.

He smiled then. “I think my people will assume I was more eager to be alone with you.”

“Except that you are depositing me in a room and leaving others to care for me.”

I wasn’t sure why I said that, and Adrian’s brows drew together over simmering eyes.

“Missing me already?” he said, amusement in his tone as he tilted my head upward, his hand splayed across my neck as if he wished to feel my pulse as I spoke.

“Hardly,” I said, clenching my jaw and averting my eyes.

He laughed, unfazed by my curt reply. “This would be easier if you would admit that, against your better judgment, you like me.”

“This would be easier if you would admit that the only reason we remotely get along is because of what our bodies do together, nothing more.”

He stared at me for a long moment, unmoving. His face was near to mine, lips hovering close, his hand around my neck, his fingers tightening, a gentle squeeze that had my pulse racing against his skin.

“All this hate for what I am,” he said. “Would you feel the same if I were human like your commander?”

I glared. “You would still be the enemy.”

“You do not even know why I am your enemy,” he said.

“You are a threat to humankind,” I countered. “You have killed kings and conquered countries! No one, not the strongest among us, stands a chance against you.”

“Such a speech and yet all I hear is your fear of something not like you.”

“Do not reduce my hatred of you to difference! You are more than different. You burned whole villages, spread plague, and killed hundreds. You are a spineless, murderous—”

Adrian stepped closer and gripped my head, his hand tightening in my hair, his body flush with mine. I was not certain of his intentions, even as he bent his head to mine, even as his breath caressed my lips, because his eyes glinted with a sharp, frustrated anger.

“I know what I am,” he said, voice quiet. “Can you say the same?”

Once.

I could have said that once, a week ago, when I had been Isolde, princess of Lara. That was until I met Adrian, and from that first encounter in the woods, it had become clear I had never really known myself at all.

“You call this treason,” Adrian whispered, his fingers trailing down my face, a soft, careful caress. “But this—us—is beyond choice.”

“You’re right,” I replied, and though I knew he was talking about something that went far deeper between us, I ignored it and spoke through my teeth. “I didn’t have a choice.”

 60/123   Home Previous 58 59 60 61 62 63 Next End