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“Because I needed to know…” He closes his eyes and swirls the glass, raising it to his lips. I watch in fascination as he takes a sip. The blood stains his pale lips. “Whether anything else compares to the taste ofyou.”
“And?” I want to take that damn glass from him and tip its contents all over the floor.
“It doesn’t. Not even close. But it will at least keep my thirst at bay so that you have time to recover from me.”
A puff of exasperated relief escapes my lips. Why do I feel so relieved?
Why does he look somewhat…pleased?As if my reaction is what he wanted?
Why do I want him to put his lips on my neck again; to feel the sharpness of his fangs as they sink into my skin?
My head swirls. The background noise becomes a roar in my ears. Corvan fills every other part of my consciousness.
The last contender falls. Kaithar’s there, dancing across the floor, graceful and dangerous, holding up the arm of a man and pronouncing him the winner.
On a long table in the center of the hall, the last of the banquet is laid out. There’s suckling pig and roast turkey and pheasant and winter vegetables with pickled berry sauce and rich gravy. The tantalizing smell of freshly baked bread makes my stomach rumble.
Soldiers and servants exchange money, some winning, some losing. Drinks are poured. Congratulations given. Corvan acknowledges the winner with a smile and a lazy salute.
The man, bloodied and bruised, his dark hair plastered with sweat, grins and bows.
As I look around the room, seeing smiling faces and warmth; men acting like brothers, and my own brothers alive and well after a nightmare, it occurs to me that Corvan needn’t have arranged all of this.
None of this is for him.
It’s for everyone else. The soldiers and the servants and my brothers.
Andme.
He’s showing me how he rules his world.
28
FINLEY
Corvan leans across, placing his hand over mine. “The night is growing long,” he says softly, “but my men will probably be at it until the birds start chirping. Would you like to escape with me?”
I hesitate.
Nobody is paying us much attention right now.
Aderick has gone to bed. Kastel and Garan have migrated to another table to play cards with a bunch of soldiers. My father has retired to his quarters. Vinciel slipped away as soon as he had a chance, muttering something about how social gatherings were the devil and stating that he much preferred to be up in his tower with a book. Kaithar and the other high-ranking soldiers—Kyron, Galaen, Ingvar, and Renfrei, if I remember correctly—are huddled together, deep in some terribly serious conversation.
“Let me rephrase that. What would you like to do now, Finley? Just tell me, and I will oblige.”
A hundred possibilities flit through my mind, some carnal.
I don’t dare. I’m not quite ready forthat.
But there’s one thing I’ve been trying to do for days, and I keep getting thwarted. “I want to take a walk outside. To the stables.”
He chuckles softly. “Not what I would have predicted, but I’ll humor you. My lady.” He gets up from his chair and holds out his hand.
I slip my fingers into his as I rise. A hundred eyes flick toward us, but Corvan pays them no heed.
“Leaving already, Your Highness?” Kaithar is grinning.
“It’s been a pleasure as always, gentlemen.” Corvan tips his head in acknowledgement. He’s effortlessly regal. “Enjoy your night, lads.”
