Page 114 of Hunt Me

“My apologies,” Luka offered. “But my beloved is stressed by the recent coup, the passing of her cherished lady-in-waiting, and now this. Is it possible to reconvene after ample rest and supper later this evening?”

The dukes glanced at each other before nodding.

“We will oblige,” Duke Gustafson confirmed.

“Very well. I will have a servant show you all to your quarters. Please make yourself at home—ask, and you shall receive,” he said, gently pulling Matilda out of her seat.

The dukes rose and bowed to the departing couple. Ezra followed them, awaiting orders.

“How may I be of servitude?” he offered gently. Luka glanced at Matilda and noticed how her rich skin seemed sallow and listless. “Have a pitcher of blood and a platter of raw meat delivered to our suite.”

“Very well, my King. Anything else?”

“Have the servants draw Matilda a bath.”

“Already done.”

Luka smiled appreciatively before whisking Matilda off to their quarters. He undressed her and assisted her into the warm tub when they arrived. A contented hum escaped her as she sank into the sweet-scented water, the top of her stomach breaching the surface.

“A month,” he finally commented when he couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“A month,” she murmured as she stared at her rippling belly. She winced as their child stretched, but she would take pain and immortality for her child to live. “Do not dawdle, my King. What is the process?”

Luka soaked a cloth and started with her exposed stomach.

“I wouldn’t be capable of turning you until you give birth.”

“Why? Would it not make sense to turn me when I was with child? Would the child be born a full-blooded vampire? ”

He cleared his throat, fighting the urge not to tell her the gory details.

“In theory, the child would remain a hybrid. However, turning you while with child is not possible because I must kill you.”

The astonishment on his beloved’s face was nearly unbearable. His sorrowful heart squeezed in his chest when tears crested her lids.

“You must kill me?”

“Aye,” he whispered, thumbing away a tear.

“How?”

“Painlessly.” Luka braced himself as he continued explaining the arduous process. “You will drink from me. I’ll-you’ll sleep. Immediately, you will be taken to a fresh grave that will be sacredly prepared.”

“How is the grave prepared?”

“I will soak it in my blood—the more blood, the sooner you shall return. You will be buried, and the rest is up to you.”

“A fortnight?”

“That is up to you, my dear.”

“And… what if I don’t return?”

“Do not speak of it,” he said, hushing her as he continued bathing her. She didn’t speak again until she was dried, dressed, and tucked under luxurious furs. “Does the child hunger?” he asked, preemptively pouring a chalice of blood for her consumption. He didn’t wait for an answer and eased the ornate cup to her soft lips. She drank slowly at first, letting the savory blood flood her tongue, blanketing it in crimson delight. Her fingers grazed the bottom of the cup and tilted it upward as she greedily swallowed more. “Magnificent,” he commented, easing the cup away once she finished. “Are you satisfied, my queen?”

“I am,” she sleepily murmured as the days of sorrows caught up to her.

“Rest, my beloved,” he urged, tucking her curls behind her ear. He kissed her blood-tinged lips and groaned when she nipped at him.