King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(29)

I’d never thought much about the ways of vampires, but now I wondered—what was their culture? Were they as barbaric with one another as they were to my kind?

Adrian certainly made it seem so.

There was a knock, and both our heads snapped toward the door. Before either of us could speak, Nadia entered, cradling towels. She paused, staring down at something before bending to pick up the knife I’d used to stab Adrian last night. She held it by the pommel, between her thumb and forefinger, the blade crusted with Adrian’s blood.

“Good morning, Nadia,” I said, folding my knees to my chest, as if I could hide the bruising on my skin.

Her gaze shifted from the knife to me, then to Adrian, and I knew she was trying to figure out how it had gotten there and how both Adrian—and I—were still unharmed. After a moment, she seemed to come out of her shock and spoke.

“Issi,” she said. “Good morning.” She crossed to the bed, where she set the dagger on the nightstand. “I brought fresh towels and your travel clothes,” she said, draping them on the bench at the end of the bed. “Shall I help you dress?”

I opened my mouth but hesitated. My gaze shifted to Adrian. I hated that I looked to him for guidance. After a moment, he offered a small nod.

“We leave in an hour,” he said. “You will want to say your goodbyes before then.”

Adrian’s boots thudded against the floor as he headed for the door. Nadia and I stared at each other until it clicked shut and we were alone.

“Issi.” Nadia’s hands fell to her sides. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine, Nadia,” I said quickly and returned to scrubbing my skin and my hair.

“Let me help,” she offered, and I sank beneath the water, holding my breath until my lungs hurt. When I surfaced again, I rose to my feet and stepped out of the tub, facing my maid.

She stared, her mouth hanging open.

“Issi,” she breathed.

“Bear witness to my shame, Nadia,” I said. “I could not kill him.”

And I let him fuck me.

Nadia seemed to overcome her shock enough to reach for a towel and fold me into it as she brought me in for a tight hug. I let her hold me, because this would probably be the last time I saw her. She pulled back, and I held on to the towel as she cradled my face.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

It was the truth. He had been rough, brutal even, but it was nothing I had not willingly accepted.

“Do…you…favor him?”

“What? No,” I said, but as I rejected her inquiry, her eyes drifted to my neck and shoulders. I sighed and pushed past her, reaching for the clothes she’d brought me.

“You cannot blame me for asking, Issi. You let him—”

“Fuck me,” I interrupted. “It doesn’t mean anything, Nadia.”

She glared. “It does where I’m from.”

“It has nothing to do with where you are from. You are well aware I’ve had other lovers. It is only because it is Adrian that you are appalled.”

“Adrian? You’re calling him by his given name?”

I shoved my feet in the leather leggings and pulled on the blue tunic she brought.

“Did you even try to kill him?” Nadia asked.

I leaned toward her, shoving my hand toward the table. “Did you not see the bloody knife?”

“How many times did you stab him?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I snapped. “Because you know what happened within seconds of stabbing him? He healed.”

Not even a scar remained, which meant that the scars on his back and the one on his face were there before he became immortal.

Nadia looked a little shaken by the news. Still, she said, “I never knew you to give up so easily.”

“Give up?”

“Will your first attempt at assassinating the Blood King be your last?”

I stared at her. “Have you heard nothing I said? He cannot be killed, Nadia.”

“Everything dies, Isolde.” She crossed the room and retrieved the knife from the bedside table before approaching me again. “You could be the savior of your people, of the whole country, and when you have conquered him, you can come back to Lara where you belong.”

My chest ached already, and my eyes stung. Back to Lara. I hadn’t even left yet, and I was already desperate for home.

“This is an opportunity, Issi,” Nadia said and placed the knife in my hand. “The Blood King has a weakness, and you must find it.”

Nadia left after her lecture, and I finished getting ready. I arranged my weapons, securing my retractable blades at my wrists. The blades themselves weren’t long, and they had sat against my skin so long, not having them felt wrong. I also cleaned the knife Nadia gave me, washing away Adrian’s blood, though afterward, I thought perhaps I should have kept it as proof that I’d at least tried to murder him. When I was finished, I sheathed the knife at my waist. The last item I layered was a cowl-neck cloak; it was practical for the icy nights but hid my shame as I left the room that bore witness to my treason.

I was still angry because even now, I wanted him, because last night I couldn’t stop myself from touching him, because I had taken every chance to ride his cock and let him come inside me. He swore it wasn’t magic that had me in his hold, and I believed him. Last night, I had been claimed in ways I’d never been before, and I had acted in ways I’d only ever dreamed, but there was something about Adrian that made me feel I could be passionate, rough, erotic—without restraint.