There is no worry. The Blood King isn’t a thought in my mind. The confusion of my father, the confusion of this burning kingdom, the confusion I feel with Christian, it doesn’t exist inside me anymore.
“You’re okay,” he whispers against my hair. “You’re okay.”
Understanding slips into my thoughts as I realize it’s not Christian gifting me this comfort. It’s Seven. And his mysterious, calming magic. The warmth of it seeps into my veins, my verybones even. It feels intoxicating. It consumes my entire mind, body, and soul. My fingers slip through his short brown hair, and I find myself leaning into him further for more of that addicting sensation.
We slow to a leisurely, human pace. I don’t untangle my arms from around his strong shoulders though.
“Put her down here.” The mere tone in Christian’s voice slashes through my mind and has me blinking through the haze of euphoria.
The smoke has cleared, but the screams of those unknown women are louder here. Pale embers shine through the canopy of leaves overhead. It casts a sinister glow across the sharp angles of the prince’s face. Black lines spiderweb over his features while an inky depthlessness consumes his eerie, blood-kissed gaze.
“I told you not to run, Pretty Pet,” he says on a voice like smoke and sin. “Put her down, Seven.”
I cling to him still. He cradles me against his lean chest. Rorrick stands silently at Christian’s side. Anticipation kicks in, my heartbeat speeding up despite no one making a single move.
“No.”
It’s a resounding word that’s spoken with so much rigid confidence that it shakes through my own chest. Seven is quiet. But he’s deadly.
The vampire prince’s lips quirk up at one side, showing off sharp canines and manic amusement. The two men stare one another down, and I have the intense urge to shove out of Seven’s arms just to keep him safe. I won’t let him put himself in more danger for me.
Part of me thinks Christian won’t hurt him though. His amusement is cruel but there’s a sense of pride he has for his friend. I think the blood prince enjoys defiance. Especially from Seven.
“You want her?” There’s a conniving lilt to the prince’s voice. “You can have her.” At that suggestion, vines crawl out from the shadows. They loop around Seven’s torso and bring him down swiftly, his ass hitting a chair that weaves itself together more and more as the seconds tick by. I’m jostled in his lap, nearly falling to the dirt, but his hold on me is unyielding. His gentle hands slip around my stomach and he holds me in the safety of his arms, even despite being restrained around his biceps.
“Christian, you don’t want to do this. You don’t think clearly when you’re like this. Just calm down for a minute.” Rorrick’s words become an endless request of caution that I soon find Christian doesn’t seem to hear in the slightest.
“You feel safe, Pretty Pet?” he asks me, his prowling pace bringing him closer. He circles the chair Seven sits in. “Seven’s false reality really filled your head with lies, didn’t it?” He licks his lips slowly as the smile only grows. “That’s what the fae are good at though: lying fucking creatures.”
“Christian,” Rorrick warns.
“Crymson, sit up for me.” He clasps his hands casually in front of himself, an image of patience from a man who is anything but. “Sit up. Face me like the fighter I know you are.”
I shift in Seven’s arms, and his hands hover around me as I move. My thighs meet his as my back presses fully against his chest. My pulse hammers, pleading with me to run, but I know it’s no use.
He’ll always find me.
Christian takes slow steps, drawing out every second of his game until anxious adrenaline is thrumming erratically inside me. When his long fingers grip the twisted vines of the armchair, Seven’s palms push more protectively across my stomach. Magic slips through him and into me, the thick feel of it calming my heartbeat and clearing my thoughts. I’m pressed in between a strange mixture of psychotic danger and unearthly bliss.
“He can’t save you, Pet. None of us can.” Christian’s hellish eyes bore into mine. “What do you expect us to do for you?”
He’s right. The Blood King will never release me from the promise my father made. I’ll never have a life. I’ll only be a thing to be used and abused in the most disgusting way.
But they’ll be here too. They’re being used, too, in a way. They’re the only good thing in my life... even before I was taken to this chaotic kingdom.
“Never leave me,” I whisper on a jagged breath.
It’s strange to ask him to always be with me when he’s an inch away from ripping my throat out himself. But I know this isn’t the real him. It’s whatever dark magic curses his blood. And even that cruel part of him is better than spending all eternity alone with the vampire king.
Christian’s eyebrows lower over his glinting eyes. Some of the steel gray shines through. Inky shadowed lines retreat from his jawline, crawling back toward his throat. My trembling fingers lift, brushing over his cold knuckles ever so slowly. It feels like I’m reaching through the bars of a lion’s cage...
But that drowning chaos in his gaze softens even more. The inky lines crawling up his throat lessen and fade. Until mesmerizing starry eyes look back at me.
He stares down at where my hand touches his. I almost expect him to push it away like he did the girl in the study...
But he doesn’t.
“I’ll always be here with you, Crymson,” he says in a gentler tone. A voice that sounds more lost than anything I’ve ever heard. Maybe he’s saddened by that admission. Does the Blood Prince hate being here as much as I do?
