As if me removing my hands is what prompts it, the room comes alive. Before we’d entered, there’d clearly been a party happening. It had stopped briefly while we entered with an uproar of hissing, but now, everyone seems to take up action again. Vampire’s don’t wait for anyone it seems. The Promise that had been on the King’s lap is still on the floor like a dark reminder of what my future will hold, but I watch as a guard comes forward to lift her carcass-like body back up. She doesn’t fight. She doesn’t even seem aware. Those court members around the room resume their boisterous laughter and open sensuality. I don’t dare stare but out of the corner of my eyes, bodies begin to sway and intertwin. Flesh melds together in the shadows as a group of four come together with hissing moans and thrusting hips that I can’t seem to pull my distracted attention from.
“Parade her,” the King tells Christian. “But no one touches my Promise. No one!”
Christian’s face doesn’t reveal any emotion. He barely nods as he grabs my arm and pulls me away from the King’s attention. I can finally freely move my head now that I’m protected once more in his presence. The cool air makes my nipples pebble as I walk. Christian’s eyes glance down at them, lingering, but stillno emotion crosses his face. The others though? Rorrick tries to hide his appreciation but all three of them are heavily distracted by my change in apparel or lack thereof. Seven tries to be a gentleman but his attention keeps flicking to me and then away to the watchful blood red eyes that take me in. His steps are prowling with a forcefulness that seems almost violent. It’s like he’s memorizing those who dare to look at my body in front of him.
It feels a little like I’m walking them rather than them walking me. It’s a strange show of my power over these three and yet I’m theirs. I’m theirpet.
“How long will I have to be naked?” I murmur, glancing up at Christian.
“Until I tell you otherwise,” he replies, his voice so low, it’s almost difficult to hear him in the rambunctious room.
So in other words, the rest of my miserable life. Got it. I’d made the mistake in picking the green dress, even if it was the proper color. I should have worn one in the vampire colors instead. Then at least maybe I wouldn’t be prancing around in the nude.
I’d known there was an orgy going on around us, but when I finally get a good look at the audience, I realize it’s more than that. Everywhere I look there are limbs intertwined, moans of pleasure, grunts of pain, fangs flashing. Blood flows freely from veins, dripping down necks, down chests, anywhere bitten. I’ve been to my fair share of dungeons where everyone shares, but I’ve still never seen something as sensual as this. It’s dark and lusty. It’s a bloodbath of sensuality. It seems as if it’s all for show, all for the King, and something about that makes it all less sexy. Torturous even.
Christian, Rorrick, and Seven remain close. None of them partake in the open invitations around us. More than a fair share of women openly gesture for them to join. Rorrick has themanners to gently decline. Christian only looks at them coldly until they realize their mistake and back off. He doesn’t care to save their dignity.
After an hour or more, it’s clear that the last dredges of inhibitions fall away. The pleasure rises in crescendo, making my body tingle despite the overt show. Women lay across couches, men feeding from every vein, their dry lips parted on a silent scream. Men sit strapped to chairs while fanged women use their hard cocks for their own pleasure, switching when one finishes. The men cry out, filling the room with the sounds of hedonistic lovemaking. If the King wasn’t orchestrating it all, it might be a sensual party. As it is, I can’t find the energy to be turned on. The last bit of strength I had in me starts to fade and my steps start to falter. Still, I dutifully follow Christian like a prized show dog. My feet stumble and his hand catches mine. His other palm goes to my elbow and he watches me for a long moment, as if it’s the first time he’s allowing himself to fully see me tonight. He steps close and his body balances mine, making me want to lean into him fully and let him carry me the rest of the way.
Slowly his tongue slides out over his lower lip and he watches me with curious, hungry eyes. When my spine straightens and I’m centered once more, his cool fingers slip away from mine. He steps back. My stomach feels hollow.
There’s not an ounce of food in this room. There’s no need for it, not when food for vampires is plentiful. But for a human? There’s nothing. Not even a lone apple.
A man stands from the writhing bodies and strides out, his eyes on Rorrick. “Come join us, warrior,” he purrs, stroking his fingers down Rorrock’s chest.
Rorrick grabs his hand and pushes him away gently. “No. Return to your party.”
The man pouts and turns his eyes to me. His gaze is hazy, as if he’s drunk on whatever it is he’s been enjoying. I’ve seen that glaze before in the eyes of drug addicts too far gone. I attribute his next actions to that. Addicts rarely have a sense of self-preservation.
“How about you, pretty fae?” he says, his hand reaching out and stroking my hip.
It’s the barest brush of his fingers, so soft, I almost don’t feel it. Still, I step back, not wanting any of these people to touch me, not wanting any of them to alert the King’s attention any more than I already have. I can’t seem to react fast enough.
But I don’t have to.
Lightning fast, Christian is there. One moment, he’s at my side. The next, he’s inches from the man, his hand buried in his chest. The party grinds to a halt, silence slamming down as blood begins to drip, drip, drip on the floor. The man looks down at where Chrisitian’s fingers are buried inside his sternum, his eyes wide, his mouth parted on an empty breath. The haze never fades though.
“No onetouches her,” Christian snarls, and then rips the bloody heart from his chest.
Blood splatters across me, my own heart giving a painful squeeze. But he isn’t done. He drops the organ with a slick thud to the floor and slices out at the man with razor sharp claws, literally splitting him in half. Blood sprays everywhere, peppering my face, my body, splattering across those vampires too close. They howl in victory, fueled by the bloodshed.
Don’t, Rorrick’s voice whispers in my mind.Keep it together. Don't look at them. Look at me, Crymson.
Do I look like I’m not keeping it together?
I’m still searching for Rorrick among the mess of it all but it’s too much. I can’t focus. I school my features despite the urge to wipe the blood off my face. My fingers shake at my sides, butnot because of the blood. It’s the look in Christian’s eyes as he turns toward me, blood dripping from his fingers. Cold. Cruel. No emotion at all.
Warmth trickles down my face and against my trembling lower lip and still I hold that vacant, deadly stare of his.
The king’s boisterous laughter fills the room as he claps his hands for his son. Like this is a gift to him. Like we’re all his playthings.
Bile roils in my throat but I don’t dare let it out.
It’s not like I’d have much to throw up anyways. . .
TWENTY
Crymson
