Page 62 of Bound to the Dreadlord

The kind that ends in blood.

Xalith’s fists tighten. “That is a dangerous thing to ask, Father.”

Hazeran’s lips curl. “Is it?”

Vaedros lifts his goblet, his amusement laced with venom. “If you want us to kill each other early, at least have the courtesy to say so.”

Hazeran says nothing.

The silence burns.

I push back from the table.

Every gaze swings toward me.

Hazeran watches. Waiting. Testing.

“Leaving already?” he asks.

I meet his gaze. “I have no interest in squabbling over bones.”

A lie. I will rule.

But not today.

I turn, striding out.

Behind me, my father smiles.

The need strikes suddenly.

A fire in my blood, a pull beneath my skin.

I move through the fortress, every step heavy with something unnameable.

It is nothing, I assure myself. It’s only game.

But I find myself heading for her chambers.

The argument still coils inside me.

The way she defied me.

The way she kissed me back.

Bit me.

Burned with me.

I have to see her. Have to remind myself why she is still nothing.

But as I near her room, something unfurls inside me.

A warning of something wrong.

The door is open.

I stop.

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