But Moth—gorgeous,gorgeousMoth. He looks lovely in that photo, his eyes creased shut with a big fang-filled grin. Then there’s the one I snapped of him in the springs of Eclipsica, shirtless and dripping with water an—fuck, I miss him. Without giving it a second thought, my hands begin to wander lower and lower. My fingers skillfully follow the ache that the mere memory of him stirs.
What would he say if he could see me, lying on the silk sheets in this gilded cage, burning with desire just for him? With a moan, I imagine the way his claws would feel trailing down the length of my body.
A kiss from his lips.
A bite from his fangs.
I gasp into my pillow as I find just the right spot.
My hands fist at the cold sheets, craving the warmth of his body.
That strong back.
The lines of his face.
God, I’d kiss along the strong lines of that jaw until I got to his lips. There are other things I wouldn’t mind getting my lips on either.
The molten look in his ruby eyes when he‘s ready to pounce. I focus on the thought of him, then imagine my hands are his hands My nails sharpen.
Unable to retract the claws right away, I use my fingers to scratch my skin from hip to shoulder, gently choking myself when I reach my throat. I know he’d do it in just the right way.
I bite back a moan; the fear of being heard nearly steals the pleasure away—but I focus, imagining how Moth would talk me through it. He’d want me to feel good—to consume my thoughts and be the object of this uncontrollable desire.
I do not believe I told you to stop,he’d say.Let them hear how much you ache for me.
I know my body intimately enough to know just the places to touch, but while I do, I imagine it’s his hand at my throat, his fingers discovering all the right ways to make me squirm.
You are so close.His lips would be on mine, stealing my breath and every last inch of restraint. I clamp my hand over my mouth and groan out his name as my limbs shake.
It was something—but I’m too needy for his touch to feel fully satisfied. I need his hands, his voice, his touch, the thought alone isn’t enough to bring me to the edge. Maybe if I had a vibrator. But, even then, I’d want to feel him holding me.
I can just picture the way he’d look at me, disheveled and wanting. He’d say I was perfect, and kiss me like I’m the only one in the world. My moth, his flame. He’s the only one I want, and no matter what, I’ll find a way back to him. I just need to deal with my vampire problem first.
If Queen Plume’s castle is like a garden, this place is a mausoleum. There is no life, no light, and no warmth. When Moth and I were first summoned to Eclipsica, this is the kind of broody, mysterious place I assumed he would have come from. But the Moth Court is filled with pastels and beautiful florals. Now, I can’t picture Moth somewhere so … lifeless.
We sit at a long ornate dinner table. The tapered candles are black, of course; something I might have used back in the mortal realm as Halloween decorations.
All of the goblets are filled with red liquid—probably blood, but I’m not going to ask. The table is filled with treasures from across the realms. A serving platter spills over with pearls; gemstones are artfully displayed like candies atop a silver tray. The whole table display looks like pirate’s treasure with nothing edible in sight.
Queen Plume would showcase the Moth’s Court’s affluence with tiny cakes and sandwiches. A noble’s wealth needs to be displayed, but it’s off putting to see such a literal display. I guess there’s something to be said about how straightforward it is. Was it hard for them to get food delivered for me? The meals I’ve had here have been simple, and I wonder if that’s because no one in this castle knows how to cook.
I’m served a plate of what looks like roasted vegetables and bread that I’m choosing to ignore. I can’t risk having a flare up on top of being kidnapped—even though Magnus insists it’s gluten-free.
We’re speaking today—just barely. He’s instructed me to make an impression on his court, and since I don’t know the nuances of our deal, I’m doing just that.
I pick at my food even though it’s the most awkward thing in the world to be the only one eating. I focus on my new mission among this court of vampires, and it’s to annoy the crap out of them. It’s something that I think I’m doing pretty well.
“Okay, but like… what I’m asking about with the whole blood-drinking thing is, as someone who can’t ingest gluten, would I have a reaction if I drank blood from someone who just ate like a whole loaf of bread?” I ask for the third time, because the vampire king may have told me to make an impression on the court, but he didn’t specify what kind.
Still, I watch Magnus hold back laughter. Rude. He’s supposed to be just as annoyed as the rest of them, not entertained. Though I will say it’sinterestingto see the vampire king in public, surrounded by his court. I hadn’t looked at him with anything other than contempt or curiosity over the past few days, and now that I can see him without the mask of trying to impress me, I realize how … sunken he is. His shoulders bend beneath the burden of a kingdom that has relied on him for a century. His usually hungry eyes seem blank—until, that is, I start to speak.
“When you are turned, we will source only the finest blood for you, my darling,” Magnus assures me, and I cringe. This man loves to put on a show, and right now, I’m still a co-star.
“Are you familiar with the wedding customs in our domain, Heather?” a noblewoman asks. She has pale skin and dark hair with the bangs cut into a sharp V-shape across her forehead. Like everyone in this room, she’s stunning and avoids looking me directly in the eye. I think I heard someone call her Cassandra.
“Oh em gee, no, I just thought I’d wing it,” I say in my best valley girl voice, spreading my wings for emphasis and—wow, they can’t stand me—heck I can’t stand me right now either.Magnus chuckles despite himself, and I would be glad one of us is having a good time if I didn’t hate his guts. Still, that connection between us buzzes; setting him up with a wife is the task on my to-do list that irks me at all hours of the day. If only he would take it seriously.
“My darling bride and I still have not gone over the details of the ceremony,” Magnus says, nonchalantly leaning back in his dining chair. “As you know, many of the preparations have been made while she was away.”
