King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(14)

I hated it because my body acted as if he were not the enemy.

Nadia was right. You’re a child, I scolded myself and reasoned. Any man can make you feel this way.

“I shudder to think what he has planned for you.”

Nadia was still talking, but my mind had gone into a full spiral. While I wondered what he wanted with me, I thought of the immediate future. What duties did the Blood King expect me to perform? He’d been open about his wish to drink my blood, and he’d offered the promise of pleasure—did vampires consummate marriages differently? If it was done by drinking blood rather than sex, could I abstain for as long as possible to prevent a true marriage?

“Issi?”

My eyes lifted and connected with Nadia’s concerned stare.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Are you okay?”

I hardly knew. I had begun the day hating vampires with every fiber of my being and ended the day engaged to one. I had been through a whole range of emotions—a passionate high and a devastating low. I felt exhausted and yet lustful. The need to be full and stretched and utterly shattered had never really gone away. It had ebbed and flowed.

“Can I be alone, Nadia?” I asked.

She hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Please, Nadia.”

I rarely said please.

“All right.”

Nadia moved toward the door and cast me a forlorn glace. “Call if you need me.”

When she was gone, I fell onto my bed, sinking into the velvet covers, my eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“What have I done?” I said aloud before closing my eyes. As I exhaled, I relaxed, then drew my legs up and apart, the hem of my shift gathering around my thighs as I trailed my fingers along my skin. I thought about how much I would have preferred another’s touch, because I did not think my own would ease this ache.

Perhaps that was the hold of Adrian’s magic. Was he the only one who could release me?

Suddenly, Adrian hovered over me, his mouth close to mine, his hair, like the sun, curtaining my view, curling softly against my skin.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“Because,” he said, “you were made for me.”

“You could say that to any woman, just as I could say that to any man.”

“But would it be true?”

“There is no truth where magic survives.”

“There is only truth if magic survives,” he said, and he bent toward me, lips touching my throat as my head pressed into my pillow, and my fingers teased my aching flesh. “Come for me, my sweet, so that I may taste you.”

My body was primed and heated, my entrance slick with need, and just as I was about to dip my fingers into my swollen flesh, the door to my bedroom flew open. I jerked into a sitting position, meeting Killian’s gaze.

“What?” I snapped, angry that I had been interrupted again, that I could not untie this knot deep in my stomach.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, eyes darkening as he took in my position on the bed.

“Yes,” I hissed, angrier because he knew what he interrupted, furious because of what he dared to say next.

“It isn’t anything I can help with?”

“If I’d wanted help, I would have called for you,” I snapped as I slid off the bed. I crossed the room, putting distance between myself and the commander. “I wish to be alone.”

Instead of listening, he closed the door, and I sighed loudly.

“What did the creature say to you?” Killian demanded.

“Nothing that means much,” I said. “I can barely recall his words.”

Which was a lie. I remembered every word. They still slid across my skin, much as his tongue had done this evening, promising pleasure. I hated myself for wanting what he offered, but I was standing opposite a man who could never give it. How could I possibly be blamed?

“You can’t really mean to marry him,” Killian said.

“What do you mean?” I gazed at him, even though I didn’t want to look at him. I’d rather he left.

“I mean exactly what I’m asking. You aren’t really going to go through with this wedding, are you?”

“I don’t have a choice, Killian. I—”

“You have a choice!” he cut me off. “Kill him, Isolde. Drive a knife through his heart, and then you and I can wed.”

I stood opposite Killian, stunned. “I would never marry you.”

“You would marry the Blood King with no argument but not me?”

“It’s not as if I have a choice. This will save so many lives, Killian. What can you offer?”

He clenched his fists and lifted them, as if he wished to strike something—maybe me—but he did not move from his place. After a moment, he spoke. “Before your father decided on a truce with the vampires, he promised you to me,” Killian said. “I only had to kill the Blood King.”

“Promised?” I repeated the word, because his admission shocked me. My father had never spoken to me of marriage, least of all to Killian.

“Think about it, Isolde. Would you not rather live a long life with me than one with him?”

“If it were my choice, I’d have neither of you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I mean every damn word.”