Page 46 of A Promise of Blood & Thorns
Men are trash and I’m just food. The world keeps turning.
Before we left Christian’s room, Seven had spread more of his salve across the bites on my breast and my upper thigh. I peek at the bite across my beast and realize it’s healing. It’s not gone, two small red marks marring my skin. I just hope that it’s gone completely before I’m forced to take my clothes off. God, I really don’t want to take my fucking clothes off in front of these people, but I understand the game. If I’m to survive until tomorrow, I have to play as much as I despise it.
“Don’t touch anyone,” Rorrick murmurs low. “Don’t let anyone touch you. Bow low for him like before.”
The fatigue turns from a small nuisance to darkness at the edges of my vision. “Stop,” I rasp.
The sound of my heels on the stone stop as I halt and press a hand to my forehead. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now isn’t the time to faint. I can’t. Not right before I need all my consciousness before I walk into this room.
The three men stop around me, their eyes darting around the empty hallway for anyone who might be watching. Only when Christian turns toward me with an aggressive curl of his lips do I realize this isn’t the best place to appear weak. I can’t help it, though. If I take another step before I gather my senses, I’m going to be getting well acquainted with the floor.
“Pull yourself together,” he hisses casually. “Now isn’t the time for anxiety.”
Oh. Oh! He thinks I’ve stopped us because of fear. Of course, I am afraid, but that’s not why I’ve stopped. I’m not sure vampires would even understand hunger to this extreme. I haven’t eaten anything since I’ve come here except for the single apple Seven foraged for me. God these men wouldn’t know how to keep a goldfish alive let alone their new pet human! They’ve fed from me, and my body is obviously struggling to replace the blood. My stomach is so empty, it feels hollow, and I’m being plagued by bouts of dizziness and the threat of passing out. How do I explain that to a vampire prince who thinks humans need to eat once a week?
“You’re right,” I rasp. What I would do for a drink of water right now? Hell, I’d settle for anything. Whiskey. Wine. Fucking chocolate milk. The fuzziness fades and I’m able to straighten again. I hope they don’t notice how my hands shake from weakness, and if they do, I hope they think it’s just fear.
Seven is the one who opens the large double doors. Christian proceeds me, Rorrick at my other side, and I get a good look at the party taking place inside the room.
If you can call it that.
In my experience, parties are full of laughter and fun. There’s an undertone of menace in this room. The King sits up on his throne, a Promise lingering to the side, more of them lingering behind him. Around the room, vampires feed and fuck and drink, but all of their eyes are on the King, as if waiting for him to strike out and kill them. I suppose that’s exactly what this is. A show for the King. Nothing more.
The moment we enter, the King’s eyes flick over to us. He bares his teeth the moment he sees my dress, and I know I’ve fucked up. The room hisses with vampiressuddenly on edge and defense but none of them seem to know why.
“The color of the fae!” he booms, dumping the Promise from his lap. She splays out on the marble floor and stays there, her eyes glassy and unseeing. She lifts an arm but it falls limply back down at her side.
Christian leads me deeper into the room and to the throne. Long green vines crawl across the glimmering floor, sweeping away as if to make space for every step we take. The moment we’re there in front of the King, I drop to my knees and bow as low as possible like before. Bile gathers in my throat but I’m not stupid enough to think I can escape this. Tonight, I won’t die, but tomorrow is not promised.
If I bow low enough, maybe it’ll be quick. Maybe he’ll break my neck before devouring me whole.
“Take it off,” the King snarls.
I freeze.
“She’s not yet a Promise,” Rorrick mentions, but he keeps his head bowed beside me. I can see him out of the corner of my eyes, just as I can see Seven lower himself gracefully into the same position I am.
“Take. It. Off,” King Boris grits out. “Before I take it off myself.”
I don’t want a repeat of last time, so slowly, I reach behind me and start to pull at the laces of the dress. I stumble and instead of bowing I’m now sitting pitifully on my knees before the Blood King. The string catches and my breath hitches in worry that he’ll rip it off anyways. Frantically I tug harder, but just before I can make a sound of frustration, cool, steady fingers graze my flesh, pulling the sleek lace away from my fumbling fingers. I glance to the side and the cool, steady stare of the Prince captures my attention. Just behind me, Christian kneels like a worshipping servant and the smallest smile tips his full lips.
Cold fingers graze my spine as he makes slow work of untying the diligent work the seamstress did for me. The green dress parts around my back and pools around my hips. I hold it briefly against my breasts before painfully letting the material fall fully to my thighs. The kiss of a cool breath of air skimming across my shoulder almost makes me tremble when his palms finish their work and ever so lightly skim over my hips before falling away.
Christian steps quietly back and I feel his absence instantly, like a physical thing deep inside my chest. I shiver in my nudity. Being cold is a weakness. I tip my chin a little higher.
Still, I keep my hands blocking the sight of my naughty bits, not because I’m shy, but because I’m hoping to prolong him seeing the bites that mark my skin. I realize it could put Rorrick and Seven in danger if he realizes, but most importantly, he could decide to kill me right now and I can’t have that. I need to make it as long as possible. I’ve never been one to roll over and show my belly.
Literally
“Stand up,” the King commands.
Slowly, I ease to my feet, my right arm across my chest and my left hand covering lower. The dress is a puddle around my heels that warms my skin with the reminder of everything I’ve lost in this nightmare of a world. When his lips split into a snarl, I release my hands, understanding that I’m not going to escape this. Anxiety flickers through me, not for myself, but for Rorrick and Seven. I don’t dare look down at the marks that were there, hoping that the ointment Seven used has done the job. My hands shake at my side but I immediately sink my nails into my palms to steady my nerves. Goosebumps spread across my skin both with a chill and because of fear.
The marks are gone, Crymson. Be at ease. You’re safe.
Rorrick’s thick voice whispers through my mind and the tension in my body relaxes just slightly. At least they’ll be okay. As for me, I only have another day of life. Unless I can find a way out of this before then.
The King’s eyes trail down my body, and it takes everything inside me to keep my disgust from my face. There’s nothing appealing about the man and his cruelty makes him even uglier. Having his eyes openly on me is up there with some of the worst things I’ve ever had to suffer. Nothing Van ever did to me will compare to the life this King intends for me. He doesn’t fucking deserve to see me like this, but it’s not like I really have a choice.
