King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(12)

“Do you uphold all your oaths?” I asked.

“I have never sworn an oath until now,” he answered. “And I will swear no more after this.”

Once again, he held out his hand. My eyes fell to it—scarred, strong, graceful—and I gave him my fingers.

“See?” he whispered. “Nothing to fear.”

Though he spoke the words, I still held my breath as he turned my hand over to reveal my palm. It was bloodied from earlier when I’d clenched my fingers tight in an effort to keep standing after he’d asked to wed me. Now the blood had dried into the cracks of my skin.

He clicked his tongue.

“You should be more careful, Princess.”

Then he bent and his tongue swirled over my palm. That was twice in one day this vampire had tasted my blood and, once again, healed my wounds. This time, I let him, even as guilt crept over me.

When his gaze lifted to mine, there was something deadly within his eyes—a darkness that seemed endless. He licked his lips.

“Your blood is truly a homecoming,” he said.

I pulled my hand away, disgusted and suddenly afraid he would want more.

Adrian chuckled, as if he knew my thoughts. “Not to worry, my sweet. I will not feed from you. Not until you ask.”

“I will never ask.”

The Blood King’s lips twitched, and when he spoke, his voice was reverent. “You will. You will beg for it.”

I could not imagine begging for anything from this…creature. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The rise of my chest drew his gaze.

“Are you threatening me?”

“No. I am offering the promise of pleasure.”

I thought my throat would close up, because as much as I hated what he was, as much as I hated him, he spoke a language I wanted to learn.

Still, he could never know that.

“Believe me, King Adrian,” I said and was proud of how steady my voice sounded. “Nothing that comes from you will ever be a pleasure.”

His lips lifted higher. “I accept your challenge, Princess.”

The doors opened then, and my father’s voice beckoned. “Isolde. Come.”

Why, when given a reprieve, did I not move? I stayed, standing before Adrian, rooted to the spot, feeling as if I’d been dragged to the edge of a cliff, body on edge, completely wound.

I wanted to fall, and I could tell by the hungry look in Adrian’s eyes he was ready to catch me.

“Run along, Princess,” he said. “I’ll see you soon enough.”





Four


“You gave her to that monster!” Commander Killian’s voice rose. He stood before my father, who was slumped in his chair. Usually, Killian’s words would incense me, and I’d form some kind of snide reply that illustrated how much I disagreed with him, but right now, I had no words. Tomorrow night, I would marry our conqueror.

I’d never imagined myself married, even with all Nadia’s talk about how it was expected of me. Queens do not rule alone. Queens do not rule at all, she’d say. They held no power beyond what they could do for their king.

I was supposed to change that. I’d felt as though that was my purpose, a feeling so strong, it had filled my whole heart with excitement and determination.

Suddenly, that was gone, and the absence of it was a greater weight than I’d ever imagined.

Now, I’d rule just like other queens.

Do you wish to be a breeding mare? Adrian had asked me. Was it too early to hope that perhaps he wanted something different from his queen too?

I lingered near the window, staring out over my home, my kingdom, the one that now belonged to the Blood King. It was still dark, but the moon was heavy and full and cast the land in silver. Absently, I wondered if Adrian would think it was as beautiful as I did. Would he appreciate what Lara had to offer, our colorful textiles, sweet wines, and lively culture? Or was it just another country to mark off his list of conquered kingdoms?

“You cannot mean to let her leave with him!”

“Commander Killian.” My father’s voice was low, roughened, tired, and I turned from the window to watch the exchange. “Leave us.”

Killian froze for a moment and then looked to me, as if I would beg my father for his presence.

“You were given an order,” I said instead, which caused him to frown. “You should obey.”

Another moment of hesitation, then he bowed and left.

At first, neither one of us spoke. The air was too heavy, the shock of what we’d both agreed to not quite registering.

“This is never what I intended for you,” my father said at last.

Something thick gathered in the back of my throat.

“I know,” I whispered, my mouth quivering. “I would have never left your side.”

My father swallowed and wiped at his eyes before he stood and approached, placing his hand upon my face, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. I hated the way he looked at me, like he was alone in the world without me.

“You are the hope of our kingdom, Isolde.”

Then he dropped his hand, turned, and left the room, shutting the door quietly, and I felt like he had taken my whole heart with him.

*

Returning to my room was a nightmare.

I hardly made it down the corridor without encountering a stricken gaze. I held my head higher, refusing to lower my eyes. I was not ashamed of my decision, and I knew that my people only looked at me this way because they were afraid—for me and their future.