Page 54 of Vow of the Undead
When she returned a moment later, the cup full of red liquid, my stomach turned. I pinned her with my gaze but she didn’t seem to notice as she turned away and let the party swallow her.
I flicked my eyes to him, watching every time he took a sip. Watching for a spill. Watching any drop of what was surely blood inside the goblet.
He shifted in his throne to face me. “You can avoid the question, but your eyes are speaking for you.”
I lifted my brows. “And what are they saying? That I want you?” It was what I expected from his arrogant lips, so I threw the suggestion out there before he could take control of the conversation.
The curve at his mouth spread wider. He gently picked up my wrist from where my hand rested. He pressed the soft pad of his thumb against the beat of my pulse, the blood pushing through thin veins at an erratic rate. “They say you’re curious, excited, intrigued. Can I claim victory for inspiring such feelings, or is there something you haven’t shared with me?”
I shifted my jaw, considering his offer to speak freely as I ground my teeth. I drew in a slow breath to calm my heart. It did no good because the thought was already committed to my mind. “Why did you mention monsters when you asked me to be your wife?”
Would he dare admit what he was? We would be married soon, I’d have to know.
The grin wiped from his mouth. He gripped my wrist and tugged me hard enough that I lost balance and fell into his lap.
Before I could get to my feet, he whispered in my ear. “Because they’re everywhere, Silver.”
I drew back far enough to examine his face, but his eyes flicked to the people celebrating. I followed his line of sight. The celebration was a revel, a blur of fine fabrics the color of wine and the colors of the fjords in the summer, rich blues and greens. Men and women holding tightly to one another glided together, some in scripted dances, others shifting slowly with hands all over their partners’ bodies.
I turned back to King Drakkar who was observing me silently. “You believe in monsters?”
His throat bobbed with a hard swallow, and he dragged his gaze back to me where it landed heavy on my eyes until it slipped to my lips. “You see the truth already, my wife. Look a little longer. Look in a mirror. There is no need for belief when there is truth.”
My heart skipped, shooting sharp pains across my chest. Were his words another reminder of what I’d done? Of the fact that he claimed to be like me? That we’d both spat on the sanctity of life and killed? “What are you suggesting?”
“Tomorrow,” he said, cupping my jaw. His lips paused right over mine, brushing against me as he spoke. “When youaremy wife, you’ll share in every truth I can give you.”
My pulse thumped faster and faster, yearning for all thatimplied. Every truth. There was so much possibility wrapped in those two words, everything I’d wanted to expose the reality that my mother and the other witches weren’t a threat. It could change the entire course of my life and the women I cared for
“Why did you say the plan to explore The Sea of Skalds wasn't your doing?”
“Tomorrow.” It was all he said before he drew my face closer, pressing his lips to mine. Like the other kiss, he started gently, until I returned it. His aggressive hunger sunk into me with increasing firmness.
No. I refused to give in to this desire. Questions still plagued me, and Freya couldn’t give me every answer I wanted.
Pulling away, I pressed him with questions. “Aren’t you the king? How did the council plan something that is not sanctioned by the king himself? You’re the one in control here, right?”
He sucked down the last of the blood from his cup and bared his teeth as he slammed to goblet down against the armrest. “Fuck, Silver!” he snapped. His teeth were stained with red until he swiped his tongue across them, and faced me with fury in his eyes.
There it was. The monster within.
He pushed me off of him and stood, raking his fingers through his hair. Nobody else noticed, servants too busy with their jobs and guests drunkenly dancing and laughing.
Turning his head to his shoulder, he kept his eyes on the ground. “Remember when I said you do what I want when you’re in my throne room?” I didn’t dignify his question with a response. He twisted, flicking his intense gaze to me. “Keep that pretty mouth shut about the damn council.”
Finally, someone took notice of the king’s outburst. A plump man I vaguely recognized fixed his eyes on us.
Darius approached the throne with a commoner at his side. A belt kept his buttoned pants from slipping off the hips that were buried by his oversized belly. Thoughts of a vampire overeating sent chills down my neck. How many vessels did Darius feed on in a given night?
“My king, the courtiers don’t like that your betrothed sleeps late into the night,” he said. What the fuck? That certainly wasn’t what I expected to come from this man’s mouth. He continued despite the fact that King Drakkar only grunted at Darius’s first comment. “Rumors that she suffers from an illness do not appease them. Order and tradition say any celebrations hosted at Mara’s Keep begin when the sun would set.”
“There’s no sun during the Polar Nocturne, so maybe we should give up these ridiculous and antiquated traditions.”
“You know we can’t do that.” His meaty hands flexed into reddened fists as he shifted his gaze to me and then back to the king. King Drakkar only huffed and shook his head, not even looking at Darius.
The commoner cut in. “Illness or not, Silver is rude?—”
Before he could finish, the king turned to him, fisted the front of the man’s tunic, and yanked him closer. “Say that again.”
