Page 79 of Given

My snort was loud in the quiet room. I went to him, not stopping until I was close enough to feel the cold rolling off his armor. Snow melted on his shoulders and ran in little rivulets down his breastplate, leaving dew on the petals of the rose that had symbolized my house for a thousand years. This close to the door, I could hear the muffled sounds of knights and horses outside. “You’re being stupid about this. Leaving in the dead of night with a handful of men.”

“Warriors, all of them. No one will cross us.”

“Your sister seems pleased. Quite the blushing bride. I assume those are tears of happiness on her face?”

“She’ll do as she’s told.”

“So will you. I never granted you permission to return home. Nor will I.”

A muscle leapt in his jaw. “You can’t deny me this. Time is running out on Lina’s betrothal contract. I need to see her settled. Martin of Lar Plestes and his people are already at Lar Keiren. I arranged it days ago.”

Anger burned in my gut. He’d outmaneuvered me. Now that Lar Plestes was involved, my hands were tied. There was no reason for me to interfere with a lawful betrothal. If I prevented Evelina from going through with the wedding, her groom could sue the crown for damages. And I couldn’t send a female of her station across the countryside without a proper escort. Lar Keiren was located in the far north, its borders flirting with the Wastes. Any number of disasters could befall her between Lar Katerin and Varick’s estate—but not if she had a contingent of warriors with her.

Varick watched with steady, treacherous eyes as I ran through all this in my head.

I knew my smile was vicious. “How strategic,” I said silkily. “If only you’d use those planning skills of yours to serve the realm.”

His nostrils flared. He’d held himself rigid since he closed the door. But now he leaned forward, crowding me with his height. “I have always served you. Maybe that’s the problem. You’ve never been told no.”

I bared my fangs, the softest hiss easing from my lips. “Nobody tells me no.”

He stepped into me, his chest bumping mine. Blond head angled down as he crowded me. “Oh, you’re wrong, Your Grace. I tell you no all the time. I also tell you when and how far and right now. And you serve me so well. You’re always such a good boy for me.”

Just like that, the lines between us blurred. By some unspoken agreement, we’d always kept the two halves of our lives separate, each of us knowing when to shift in and out of our respective roles. In our bed, I knelt to him. Outside of it, things were altogether different.

But now, the two worlds blended. It was like trying to stand upright while the ground slid and crumbled under my feet. I couldn’t allow it. The crown never leaves a king’s head. If I let him challenge me this way, nothing between us would ever be the same.

“Watch your mouth, General,” I said through clenched teeth.

My back hit the door before I could blink. He picked me up and pinned me there, three hundred pounds of warrior vampire pressing me into the wood while my head was still spinning. His strong arms gripped me around the thighs, and his breastplate dug into my chest. He hitched me higher and flashed his fangs.

“I should fuck you against this door,” he growled. “Let my men hear how well you take it.”

His breach of protocol was so, so wrong. His arrogance infuriating. But his dick was hard and his scent—leather and sword oil and sweat and him—overflowed my lungs. I opened my mouth to spit an order and ended up smashing my lips to his.

The kiss was wilder than any of our previous ones. Hot and competitive. A furious clash of tongues and fangs. I drew his blood. He drew mine right back. I gripped his thick biceps, and then I grabbed his face and fought him with my lips and teeth. The room filled with our grunts and the subtle creaking of the leather fastenings that held his armor in place. He worked his hips, grinding our dicks together.

At last, I needed air, and I threw my head back, gasping as he trailed his mouth down my neck. His stubble scraped mine, his lips searing a fiery trail to the fur that had grown much too hot.

“Fuck me,” I rasped. I didn’t care who heard. We’d been in the storage room so long, his men probably already assumed he’d bent me over the armorer’s worktable. “Please, baby.”

He stiffened. Lifted his head and stared at me with bloodied lips.

I leaned in to kiss him again.

“No.” He dropped my legs and stepped back, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath.

I grabbed two handfuls of his cloak. “Come here—”

“I said no.” He gripped my wrists and shoved me hard against the door. Put his face in mine. “If you want to fuck, go fuck your wife.”

For a second, I was too angry to move. I wanted to punch his face. Instead, I shoved him back. “You are such a fucking asshole.”

“And you’re a liar,” he bit out. “What a pair we make.” He tossed me a savage look and turned away. With short, jerky movements, he straightened his clothes and smoothed his hair.

I leaned against the door, fury and lust like hot wires in my veins.

He turned back but kept his gaze on a spot over my shoulder. “I request formal permission to escort my sister to my estate for her wedding.”

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