Page 59 of Given

“Neither will you,” Laurent said, taking his seat. His eyes flashed. “Now sit down.”

They stared at one other, both eerily quiet. The tension ratcheted so high, the air seemed to crackle. They looked ready to murder each other. Or lunge for each other.

Slowly, Varick sat. He pulled a dagger from somewhere. Its hilt was set with blood-red stones that winked in the firelight. The blade was an odd color—dark gray that seemed to shift to black as he flipped it around in his hand. “I can leave,” he said quietly, his deep voice rumbling the table and the floor under my chair. He pulled his sleeve to his elbow and exposed his forearm. “You can hold the living, Laurent, but you can’t hold the dead.” In a swift movement, he sliced his arm from wrist to elbow. Then he grabbed the bowl of salt and dumped it in the wound.

I clapped my hand over my mouth, a muffled scream escaping between my fingers. Salt would hold his injury open and prevent his body from healing. The cut was deep. Purplish bone was visible between the layers of meat. Blood gushed down his arm and spattered the floor, the sound like rain on a roof. It wouldn’t take long for him to bleed out.

Laurent stood so quickly his chair toppled behind him. “Varick—”

“Hold,” Varick said savagely. He placed the tip of the dagger under his own chin. “Take your seat, my king, or I’ll finish it right here and now.”

I kept my hand pressed over my mouth. Blood continued to stream down Varick’s arm. The rich scent filled the room, making my stomach twist with hunger and revulsion in equal parts.

Laurent’s eyes blazed with fury. His nostrils were flared, his jaw clenched tight. He righted his chair and sat. “Clear it,” he growled, his gaze flicking to Varick’s arm. “Right fucking now.”

Varick addressed me without taking his eyes off Laurent. “Princess Given, go kneel before our king and take out his cock.”

Laurent growled, his eyes flashing as brightly as the dagger’s blade. “Varick…”

Varick twisted the dagger. He grunted as blood ran down his neck.

“N-No!” I scrambled to my feet. “I’ll do it! Please…just stop.” I clung to the table, my gaze bouncing between the men. “Please stop this.”

Varick was growing pale. Sweat beaded his forehead.

“Please,” I whispered.

The men continued their stare down for a few more strained seconds. Eventually, Laurent extended a hand in my direction. As soon as I moved to his side, he snarled at Varick. “Clear it.”

Varick took a pitcher of blood-wine from the table and poured it down his arm. The wine mixed with the blood and the foaming salt, creating a red sludge that slid to the floor with sickening plops. He breathed heavily as the wound began to knit back together.

I released a shaky breath.

His golden eyes lifted to mine. “We’re not done here, Princess. Get on your knees.”

My breath hitched. He was big and menacing in his chair, which was pushed back and angled enough to offer a full view of his body. For the first time, I truly understood what it meant for a vampire to hail from the warrior class. Varick of Lar Keiren was a beast of a male, but his cold, flat eyes were more terrifying than his size. He sat there, soaked in blood, ready to take his own life with a chilling nonchalance.

And he would absolutely do it. I stood frozen with my hand in Laurent’s, not even daring to breathe.

Laurent pulled my wrist to his lips. His silver gaze burned as he placed a soft kiss over my veins. “Let me make this easier,” he murmured, then sank his fangs into my flesh.

Heat flashed straight to my sex. My mouth opened on a soundless gasp as he fed from me. In an instant, I was wet and aching between my legs. My nipples tightened, and my breasts felt heavier. It was like a cord ran from his mouth to my nipples and my throbbing center. With every mouthful he took, the cord tugged, stoking my arousal higher.

Still sucking at my wrist, he put his other hand on my waist and guided me down until I was on my knees between his legs.

Varick’s deep voice rumbled. “Turn your chair sideways, Your Grace. I want to see how well the princess takes it.”

His words stirred anger in my gut, but they were nothing compared to the desire that flooded me. The anger settled like a layer of oil atop water. It couldn’t penetrate that deep sea of need.

And, gods help me, knowing Varick watched made everything inside me burn hotter. It was all kinds of wrong, but I couldn’t control it. My body leapt for what it wanted, and it wanted his gaze on me. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, big and golden and brimming with rage barely held in check. He was volatile. Dangerous. All that tense emotion was like dry kindling tossed on the fire searing my veins. Anticipation coiled around me like a snake.

Laurent licked my wrist and gazed down at me with eyes that reflected my desire. His strong hands gripped my shoulders, and he turned us, moving his chair so we were in profile to Varick. I knelt between his spread thighs, my skirts puddled around me. The thick bulge of his manhood strained his laces inches from my face.

He cupped my cheek. “You’ll be a good girl for me. Won’t you, Given?”

“Yes,” I said in a voice scraped from the back of my throat.

“And me,” Varick said, and when I looked at him, I knew I wasn’t going to like what he had planned. But something was very, very wrong with me, because the coil didn’t spring open.

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