Page 113 of Their Blood Rite

‘What we have to.’ Shaw folds the letter. ‘We go.’

‘All of us?’ Dorian looks at me.

‘All of us,’ he agrees.

A heavy silence falls, and there’s a tension so damn thick I could cut it with the dagger Dorian still holds.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, shuffling to the end of the bed. ‘But, who exactly has summoned us all?’

Shaw hands me the letter.

I read it, and my stomach falls so far that the centre of the earth isn’t deep enough to catch it.

Lifting my head, I look at Shaw, swallow, and accidentally shout my following words as I get to my feet stark fucking naked.

‘The human king wantsyouto bringmeto his court?’ I look between them all. ‘Tonight?!’

Exasperated, they all look at the paper in my hand and slowly nod.

Well… this can’t be good.

‘You can’t stay under there forever,’ Archie groans.

‘Watch me,’ I reply, staring at the underside of the bed.

They’ve kept it clean and comfortable for me. Cushions and blankets cover every inch. Archie’s arm hangs over the edge of the bed as he lies sprawled across the mattress.

‘You eaten any of that food yet?’ he asks

‘Not hungry.’

‘You should eat. You need to keep your energy up.’

‘Why? What’s the king going to want me to do?’

He chuckles.

‘I meant that we need to feed before we go so we’re strong.’

‘You’ve had your two feeds this week,’ I remind him, picking at a splinter above my head. ‘You’re not getting anymore from me.’

‘We’ll see,’ he mumbles. The bed creaks as he shifts. His head suddenly dangles over the edge. ‘Why do you go under here, Pixie?’

I have no intention whatsoever of answering.

He just wants to know for the sake of knowing. Like an itch he wants to scratch.

‘You are a very strange little mud witch,’ he says. ‘All the others I’ve met are uptight stiffs with a stick firmly up their arse. Rumour is they only fuck on the Rite and then once a month to make a kid. But here you are, taking three dicks in one single day.’

‘Rumours are wrong,Master.’ I look back up at the wood of the bed, picking at that splinter. ‘Females are taught to be quiet. Obedient. We’re told to be pretty and sweet. To smile and giggle, even when all we hear is boring, misogynistic bullshit and jokes as funny as shit sliding down the wall. We’re told that sex is a duty. That to make a male cum is the greatest honour. We’re told females are supposed to be in pain during sex. That pleasure isn’t for us. It’s for males. That orgasms aren’t even possible.’

‘Lessons you clearly took to heart,’ he laughs. ‘You’re such a timid and mild-mannered female who clearly loathes sex.’

‘One night had me knowing differently. I could orgasm. No one believed me. I got beaten for even suggesting to the girls that we weren’t obligated just to accept whatever dicks wanted to go inside us. That the fact we didn’t climax was the male's fault. Not ours. I would say at least ten of the scars on my back are from me speaking out.’ I shrug. ‘Cole would use his fingers on me, but whenever I tried to guide him in the right direction, he would get so mad, scolding me that I was trying to achieve the impossible. The unnatural. Sex is for males. For making children. And sometimes, when a friend wants to have a turn, you do that too.’

‘Cole had a friend, did he?’ The words are a snarl. Strange. Not sure I’ve heard him snarl before.

‘Everyone has a friend. Or someone who they owe money to.’

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