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“My name. Scream my name. I want to hear you beg for release. I want to hear you beg me, on your knees like this, my cock shoved so far up your cunt that you’ll never forget I was in you. Every time you sleep with your Wounded King, you’ll remember this, and you’ll burn for me.”
I was close, so close, the fever burned so brilliantly that I felt like the phoenix, consumed by her own flames as they danced around me. And then, as I neared the pinnacle, Lannan leaned down and bit my shoulder blade, viciously, and his fangs drove deep into me.
The pain mingled with orgasm as I came, so hard I wavered, almost passing out. And as the fever roared in my ears, I heard myself screaming.
“Lannan, fuck me, fuck me…never stop…don’t stop…” And then, poised on the edge, I swan-dived into the darkness, and the flames crackled as I fell so deep and so far that I didn’t know if I’d ever return.
Chapter 18
I opened my eyes, unsure where I was. Every inch of my body ached, and at first, I couldn’t remember why, and then I looked around and realized where I was.
Oh motherfucking hell. No, no…it wasn’t real…
But as I pushed back the covers and saw the healing scars on my leg, I knew that I hadn’t imagined anything. The wounds were raked into my skin, scabbing over, and there didn’t seem to be any infection. The muscles had knit quickly, but my leg was stiff and sore. I tried to focus on the mundane, tried to ignore what I knew I’d have to face sooner or later, because the longer I put it off, the longer I could avoid facing the ramifications of what had happened.
Images kept breaking through—Lannan’s face, the feel of him holding me down, the feel of…I moaned, grabbing a pillow and hiding my face in it. What the hell was I going to do now? And now, would he ever leave me alone? And how would I face Grieve? In the cold light of day…Well—I wasn’t sure if it was morning or not, but now that I was out of the grip of the Blood Fever, I could think clearly, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Then another horrifying thought hit: While I was pretty sure they’d collected Crawl, Geoffrey and Leo were still on the loose. That much I was certain I remembered correctly.
And if they were loose, Rhiannon and I were still in danger.
I looked around, trying to find a clock. There were no windows here, but then again, neither was Lannan anywhere to be seen, and I wasn’t sure whether he slept here. I doubted it—too vulnerable for a vampire to sleep where anybody could walk in on him. No, he had to have some secret lair. This was just where he brought his bloodwhores…and his conquests.
Again, a shudder ran through me. My wolf whimpered with a mournful, lonely yip. I reached down, unsure whether to make contact, but I had no choice. I pressed my hand against the tattoo and gently whispered, “I’m so sorry, my love. I would have done anything to avoid what happened, but happen it did and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
My wolf paused, snarled a moment, then another whimper, and I felt a wave of sadness and love pour through. I hung my head, but then I paused, looking at my leg once more. Lannan had saved my life yet again. I would have bled out; I would have died without his blood. What had happened was infinitely better than the alternative, and Grieve had to understand that.
I examined my heart. How did I feel about Lannan? Searching deep, looking for honesty, I examined my feelings. What did I feel for him after our night together?
Vague images floated through my mind: our bodies moving in rhythm, my sweat covering both of us, the cold feel of his hands on my body…the passion was strong and undeniable, but my heart felt untouched. The Blood Fever had left me connected to Lannan but not tied like before. Something had shifted, and I had the feeling it had everything to do with my heartstone.
I slowly stood, testing my leg. The gashes were going to leave nasty scars; there was no help for that. At least they had closed, and Lannan’s blood had saved my life. When they healed, I’d have tattoos inked over them. A rite of passage, acknowledging my ascension to the throne of Winter, perhaps.
My clothes weren’t on the bed, so I crossed to the door and paused. I wasn’t ashamed of my body, but the idea of stepping out of the room, buck naked, with still-healing scars? Not such a good idea, especially if it was still night and the vamps were out to play.
I looked around the room, hoping that Lannan might have stashed a spare robe. There was a closet over by the dresser—I hadn’t noticed much in the way of furnishings the night before. But now I could see that the antiques here were well maintained, highly polished, and carefully oiled. No clock that I could see. But a dresser, dressing table, armoire, coatrack—and there I saw a hanger with a delicately embroidered robe on it.
The robe was blue, and an owl was emblazoned on the back. Lannan had left it for me. I slipped it off the hanger and put it on, tying it with the belt. A pair of silk panties were hanging next to it, but I had no intention of accepting underwear from Lannan. I left them hanging there and headed toward the door.
As I opened the door, the scurry of activity and the sight of housekeepers polishing the grand foyer told me that it was most likely daylight. Regina and Lannan chose not to be bothered with things like that when they were awake. I caught the eye of one of the maids, and she hurried over to me.
“Your Majesty—you’re awake. The Master told me that when you are ready, I’m to offer you a bath, and the Emissary has left you new clothes. Your friends are waiting in the other chamber for you. What do you wish to do?” She flushed, as if she realized her words had come in a long spurt with no breath separating her sentences.
I thought for a moment. Though I wanted to see the others now, perhaps it wasn’t the best plan to show up in a robe. A robe that Lannan had given me, no less. The clothes would probably have Regina’s style all over them, but they’d be from the Emissary, not from my vampire nemesis-turned-lover.
“I’ll take a shower and then dress. Would you let my friends know I’m all right and that I’m getting ready?” I glanced around the hall, finding the grandfather clock. It was ten A.M., and the clock let out a series of ten chimes. “It’s morning, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. You’ve been asleep most of the night. The Master ordered you left undisturbed till you woke. He said you needed your sleep. Please, wait in the room for a moment and I’ll be back to draw your bath. I’ll go speak to your friends.”
“If Rhiannon—Her Majesty the Summer Queen—is there, please ask her to return with you. Luna and Peyton, too.” I turned back to the room and, fidgety now, sat on the bed, waiting. There was a bookcase of old books against the wall, and I glanced through the titles, but they were mostly sex books, history books, and coffee table tomes, heavy and filled with pictures. I took one off the shelf, but after flipping through a few pages of pinup models and tattooed wenches, I realized that I couldn’t focus.
Everything that had happened was still so fresh in my mind, and yet still a blur of sensation and passion and drive. My thighs ached and I slid the robe back, looking down to find bruises on them from where I’d straddled Lannan, from where he’d thrust between them, driving himself deeper and deeper into me. Closing my eyes, I realized that I couldn’t let Grieve see them. He’d know they weren’t from Crawl. He knew Lannan had fucked me—there was no getting past that one—but I didn’t have to throw it in his face.
A moment later, the maid returned. She motioned for me to follow her through a door to the right, near the bed. As we crossed the threshold, I was surprised to find a massive bath, tiled in a pale white with splashes of black. The room was huge, with a built-in vanity, a linen closet, and a separately partitioned toilet—for human guests and bloodwhores, since vampires didn’t need them. In the center of the room, on a platform, sat a huge spa tub. All thoughts of a shower went down the drain.
“Can I take a bubble bath?” I turned to the maid, wanting nothing more than to drown myself in hot water.
She nodded. “Of course, Your Highness. Your cousin, the Summer Queen, will be here in a moment. One of our female guards is accompanying her, leaving nothing to chance.”
I sat on the bench as the maid began to fill the tub. She offered me a variety of scents with which to stir up the bubbles. I chose a lightly scented vanilla, and as the water frothed up a lather, I slipped out of the robe and draped it over a chair. There was a full-length mirror against one wall and, as the water burbled away, I examined myself.
