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King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(77)

Author:Scarlett St. Clair

“I dream of you always,” I said, embarrassed by the words, and though they were true, they were nothing I would ever say aloud. I started to pull out of myself, but Adrian held my hand against my heat, guiding my fingers to return.

“No, let me watch,” he implored, and my whole body flushed with his request. He knelt between my legs as I pleasured myself. Within moments, he joined me, drawing his cock into his hand and stroking himself. We didn’t touch, but we held each other’s gazes, and our breaths quickened, moans rising together. I watched him until I could no longer keep my eyes from rolling back as I found release. I lay there a few moments, expecting to feel his body pressed against mine in the aftermath, but there was nothing, and when I opened my eyes, he wasn’t there.

*

The next morning, I rose early, unable to rest, and headed for the garden, despite the fact that Adrian had told me not to leave my room without an escort. That had been upon arrival, and since, I had been responsible for the death of one vampire and one mortal.

I felt I was pretty safe.

I wasn’t sure how long it would take for me to get used to Revekka mornings, but they were not crisp and golden like those of Lara. The horizon blazed crimson red, and blades of the same light cut across the garden, casting other parts in deep shadow. There was nothing cheery about it—it was a bloodbath.

As I wandered along the paths, I wrapped my cloak tightly around me to fight the chill. It was no colder in Revekka than it was in Lara, for which I was glad, because I had heard winter here was long and harsh, with the land accumulating several feet of snow. I preferred summer—the height of it when the sun was hottest. Blinking up at the bloody sky, I doubted I would feel those rays anytime soon.

My meandering brought me to the grotto, and I lingered at the edge of the pool, enjoying the heat wafting from the water before shedding my cloak and the remainder of my clothes.

The pool was shallow where I entered and grew deeper as I waded into the center. Suddenly, I wanted Adrian here, body slick and warm. I would coax come from his cock and slide him between my thighs. I would climb his body until he could fit himself in mine, and I would ride him until he came inside me. Those thoughts gave way to a reel of images, and I could not help squeezing my legs together, fighting the urge to once again pleasure myself.

This connection to Adrian was abnormal.

I dipped beneath the surface of the water to stop my thoughts from spiraling and stayed until I could no longer hold my breath. When I surfaced, I came face-to-face with Gesalac.

In my haste to break through the water, I had come up too far, exposing half my body to the noblesse. Gesalac did not lower his eyes, even as I retreated so that the water rose to my shoulders.

“You did not come up for air,” he explained. “I was concerned.”

“How long were you watching me, Noblesse?”

“I was not watching,” he said, but he offered no other explanation. “I would be mindful of where you choose to swim, my queen. The king’s rage is rarely rational.”

I did not like his warning or his comment about Adrian. Even if Adrian was irrational, in this instance, his anger would be justified.

“No one asked you to linger, Noblesse,” I said, ready for him to leave. I was too exposed and weaponless, and I did not trust his intentions.

The vampire stared a moment longer, then bowed his head and left. I did not exit the pool immediately, fearing that Gesalac still lingered nearby. When I felt enough time had passed, I dressed, pulling the hood of my cloak over my head to keep the chill at bay.

I made my way to the castle, deciding to take the passage Ana had showed me rather than return through the garden. Once in my room, I changed into dry clothes and braided my still-wet hair. As I worked, Violeta and Vesna arrived with breakfast.

Vesna held the tray, and though she looked far more composed than she had yesterday, there was a soft sadness to her features. I could not imagine how she felt—to grieve her abuser—but the expectation of the world was that we loved our parents no matter their crimes against us.

As she set the tray at my bedside, I noticed she wore the same clothes as yesterday.

“Do you have a change of clothes, Vesna?” I asked.

“No, my queen, but I have sent for them,” she said. “I’m not sure when they will arrive.”

“Perhaps we should have some made,” I suggested.

“Tomorrow is market day in Cel Ceredi,” Violeta said. “I had hoped to take Vesna anyway.”

“Good,” I said. “Pick out some fabric while you are there.”

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