Page 29 of Queen of the Crimson Throne

The wound in my side wasn’t healing. I could feel my blood staining my clothes.

I needed to get back to the palace before I was unable to move.

I resheathed my sword and pressed my hand to my side, gritting my teeth against the pain.

I used the last bit of strength I had to propel myself back to the palace, to get myself back home.

I received many looks as I deposited myself at the gates, but I didn’t stop there. I moved through the halls until I landed in front of a large wooden door. I pounded my fist against the door several times before I slipped down the wall, tumbling in a heap against the door frame.

I banged my head against the wall over and over again. I hoped and prayed it would open before I passed out. Dark spots danced in my vision. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. But it was too late for that. I doubted I could move again.

After what felt like hours, the door finally opened. I slumped against the doorway, somehow managing to tilt my head upwards to spy the female standing before me.

My eyes roamed up the tanned legs blocking my vision, my fingers, despite my current state, itching to run up them to what I knew lay between them, underneath the flimsy nightdress she wore.

When I finally met her gaze, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Her emotions were too muddled. Or I was too delirious.

“Good evening, Sweetheart.”

15

LENNOX

I stared at Luka slumped against my door frame, unable to comprehend what was in front of me. Red and black blood stained his clothes and sprayed across his face and neck like dark freckles.

His face was ashen, the color fading more and more every second I stared at him. Why was he here? What trouble had he gotten himself into since I left him a few hours ago?

And why did he smell like rotted flesh?

“I got myself in a bit of trouble. I need your help,” he slurred. Was he drunk?

“What are you doing here, Luka?”

Even in this state, his eyes roamed over my body hungrily, taking in all the areas of exposed skin. I tried my best not to shiver under his gaze as I clamped my thighs together.

“I need your help.” He moved his hand from his side, his palm coming away stained red. “I got a little scratch here that won’t heal.”

Everything came crashing back to reality at that moment. He wasn’t drunk. He was hurt.

And by the looks of it not healing.

“For fucks sake, Luka. Who did that to you?” I knelt besidehim, my hands reaching for the wound. “You should have said something right away.”

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I got distracted.” My cheeks reddened. Goddess he was a never-ending flirt. It would be the death of him. My fingers skimmed over the ripped flesh. The wound wasn’t big—only a few deep scratches. Where they came from, would be a question for later. But why weren’t they healing on their own?

“Here, let me help you inside.” I wrapped my arm around his waist, his arm circled my neck and I helped him stand. He wobbled against me as I led him into the room. I looked between the bed and the couch. He was covered in blood and reeked of something foul—but bedsheets could be washed.

I helped lay him down carefully on the bed.

“You want me to heal you? Is that why you came to me?”

Luka’s eyes fluttered. “No, I don’t need you to heal me. I need you to get Nico or Declan.”

“Why?”

“I need— I need blood.” My stomach tightened. That’s why he wasn’t healing.

“Here,” I held out my wrist to him as I sat on the bed. “Feed from me.”

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