King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(56)

“One of what?” he asked.

“A man who does not listen,” I said.

His slick smile spread, and he took a step closer to me. “Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Noblesse Zakharov.”

“Well, Noblesse Zakharov, I don’t care who you are. I will not dance with you.”

I did not linger to hear his reaction, turning to leave, but Zakharov once again reached for me, his fingers digging into my arm as he jerked me around. This time, I drew my knife holstered at my wrist. I twisted the hilt in my hand and brought it down into the hollow of the man’s collarbone.

The only sound he made was a choked gurgle as he fell to his knees, blood oozing from his wound. Vampires might be able to heal themselves, but they still felt pain, and it was possible this was worse, given that I did not think Zakharov thought I would fight back. The room went quiet, and none moved as I stood opposite the vampire who had accosted me.

The tap of boots upon the marble floor interrupted the silence, and slowly, a path was made for Adrian. He seemed to tower over everyone, a force that commanded attention. He certainly had mine as he approached, his features a cool mask of indifference.

“He touched me,” I explained.

Adrian’s eyes left mine, falling to Zakharov, whose hand was around the hilt of my dagger, blood seeping from between his fingers. But just as he was able to pull it out, his eyes lifted toward Adrian.

“M-my lord,” he managed.

Adrian said nothing as he plucked the knife from his flesh, wiped it free of blood with a handkerchief he pulled from the inside of his jacket, and returned it to me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, and he offered the softest smile before drawing a blade sheathed at his guard’s side and swung. No one spoke as Zakharov’s head rolled across the ballroom floor, his body left to fall against the marble with a wet thud.

Adrian returned the bloodied blade to his guard and then looked at me, offering his hand. Once I took it, he spoke, addressing the gathering.

“Your queen is a warrior first, a noble second. I suggest you keep that in mind if you decide to place your fate in her hands.” Then he looked at me. “And if, by chance, she spares you, I will not.”

I held his gaze and felt the promise of his words shudder through me.

“Clean this up,” he said and led me away from the body. Pausing at the center of the room, he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Are you all right?”

“I am,” I said. “What is a noblesse?”

“It is a title that means royal birth,” he said. “Zakharov has always been a problem. Now he is not.”

I looked to where he had lain, his body already cleared. Another vampire carried the head by its long, black hair toward the exit.

“Dance with me,” Adrian said.

I bowed my head, accepting his invitation. He smiled and lifted my hand to his mouth. His lips touched my knuckles, a soft caress that reminded me of the kisses he’d offered on our ride through Cel Ceredi to the Red Palace. Then he drew me close and began to move, his body a solid guide I followed effortlessly around the room.

“You are beautiful,” he said, his eyes lowered, lingering on my breasts.

“I thought you would disapprove,” I said, but I’d only thought that because Killian would have chided me for the amount of skin I was showing.

Adrian, though, seemed to like it.

“My feelings are far from disapproving,” he said, and as if to drive the point home, he drew me closer, the hard swell of his cock pressing into my stomach.

I held his gaze, a fire igniting in the pit of my stomach.

“You are not angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry?”

“Because I danced with Lothian,” I said. “When I was supposed to dance with you.”

“Hmm,” he said, understanding. “You are lucky I like him.”

“I promised to protect his balls,” I said.

“Suddenly, I like him less,” Adrian said.

“I am angry with you,” I said.

Adrian raised a brow. “As if I could not guess by your actions. Safira?”

“You said you would cease feeding from her.”

“I have,” he said.

There was a pause as we continued to dance, slow and controlled, the skirt of my dress swaying and tangling around my legs and Adrian’s.

“I had only told her a few moments before I entered the great hall. Poor timing, perhaps, but it is done. As you wished.”

I bristled. “Do not guilt me.”

“It is not my intention,” he said. “I would do anything you asked if it meant you might see me as more than a monster.”

I could not quite isolate how his words made me feel, but it was something akin to shock.

“So you danced with Lothian because of Safira?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t like being told what to do.”

A cruel smile spread across his face. “I think you wanted to drive me mad.”

“Did it work?”

“It made me want to fuck you,” he said. “Right here in front of my kingdom.”

“How primal of you,” I said, though his words opened a chasm in the bottom of my stomach that burned hotter than any flame.

He did not deny it. “Primal, possessive,” he said. “It is in my nature.”