Page 109 of Vow of the Undead
Rewarding me, he finally circled my core again. With this pleasure climbing closer, closer to the edge, it only took one more circle before I unraveled. Ecstasy rippled through me, my nerves not frayed but on fire. I gasped and arched my back, pressing my ass harder into him.
“That’s it,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to watch you come on my throne since you first walked in here. But I had to share it with you so I could feel you against me. Tomorrow, after we’re married, I’ll sit you on my cock right here and make you come again and again.”
My eyes peeled open and I straightened, twisting to look at him. “Ask me again.” He tilted his head. “To marry you. You never asked according to my standards.”
A grin split his mouth and his eyes dropped to my lips. “What are your standards?”
I stood, glaring down at him. I took a moment to enjoy this temporary power before I gave everything over to him. Even if I was naked, baring all before him. I didn’t care.
“Get on your knees,” I said.
He slid to the edge of the throne and, eyes locked on me, he dropped to his knees. “Marry me. Tomorrow.”
“Beg for it.” It may have been because of my selfish side, the darkness within me, but I wanted to relish this. I wanted to pretend the man who was insisting I marry him actually wanted me more than anything in the world. It was a childish wish, something a village girl in Skaldir may have had in a different life. But I was born a witch and a believer in the Gods and a cruel person stained with a hollow heart full of Freya’s tears. I didn’t deserve this moment for myself, but I took it anyway. I took it because I needed him to convince me to forget everything and give myself over to him. “Beg for me, Drak.”
“As soon as I heard about you fighting off two vampires, I had to meet you. As soon as I met you, I had to get to know you. As soon as I tasted you, I had to have you. As soon as I got to know you, I…” The muscles in his throat rippled with a hard swallow. “When I said you fascinate me, it was mere interest, but after seeing the fire inside of you.”You mean the darkness?“I became obsessed. So, please, I beg you with every ounce of my immortal life, marry me.”
He took my hands in his, rubbing his thumbs to bring life and blood to my blue fingers. My heart pinched. He saw what plagued me, he recognized my struggle, never dismissing the silent and nearly invisible illness that I’d been taught to hide.
He knew to warm my hands without a word, so when I gave myself over to him, it wasn’t a lie.
“I’m yours.”
The come down after our enjoyment on the throne left my head swimming. I slipped back into my dress, my legs trembling. I wasn’t going to bother with the ribbons when Drak came up behind me. The fabric clung to me as he softly pulled the ribbons tighter and secured them at the middle of my back.
If this was how he’d behave during our marriage, it’d be so easy to forget the blood all over him, that he killed and tasted others. Killing was the way of Draugr. The undead sought to extend their existence, they had no souls.
Kayn had no soul, and now he wouldn’t have mine either.
I flexed my fists and Drak cupped his hand over mine. “Cold?”
I shook my head as I turned to him. “I need to know who killed Embla. Do you have any idea who would have bitten her but not drained her? And why would they leave her for me to find?”
He brushed his thumb over my hand. “Someone who wanted you here.”
“Who else but you?”
When his eyes darkened, he blinked andlet go of my hand. Raking his fingers through his loose hair, he cursed. “Fuck. The council returns today.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means they wanted you here when they came back.”
“For what?”
He opened his mouth then promptly snapped it shut. His eyes flicked to the massive door. Without moving, without breathing, he stared as if in a trance. Finally, his gaze sliced to me and the frown that twisted his face warned me what was coming next. “I don’t know, to stop our marriage? To make you their vessel. To kill you.”
I sucked in a breath that cut off with the slam of a door.
A figure dripped out of the darkness as they stepped inside. A man I vaguely recognized as one of the council members strode into the throne room. His cloak was embroidered with intricate vines, leaves like Creeping Thyme in thread the color of the hills in summer across Skaldir. Fangs jutted from his pale, sickly-looking lips and his waxy taupe eyes fell hard on me.
Cold shivers skittered over my skin and I slipped my hand in my pocket, feeling for the silver pendant.
He flicked his attention away from me and to the king. “King Drakkar.” His voice fell flat, and he tipped into a faint bow that looked more like habit than a gesture of respect. “The council has spoken.”
The king clenched his hands into fists, but was otherwise still. My eyes darted between them. I knew the king had a council, and that likely the royals took a part in the decisions for Mara, but this newcomer said it as if the king wasn’t part of that same council. In Skaldir and the nearby villages, the meetinghouses were open for all to discuss life and law with the Vyls. Though the last meeting before we left was split on the decision for my father to seek help from Mara. And my father did it anyway.
“She must go.”
