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Her eyes watered. She was growing tired. I rubbed my thumb over the hinge of her jaw to ease the ache she was probably feeling.

“What’s your point, Varick?” I snapped. But I knew. As my hips jerked and pressure built in my balls, I knew what he was doing. But we were locked into this now, the three of us. He was barreling toward a conclusion and none of us could stop until he reached it.

“With all due respect, Your Grace, I asked the princess.” He paused as if he awaited her answer. When he received nothing but the wet, fleshy sounds of my cock tunneling in and out of her mouth, he kept going. “The king’s bloodline must stay pure. The favored of the gods. The ruler of the sacred blood. There can never be any question that his heir is the rightful prince. Because if the king’s bloodline falters, the whole kingdom falls. That means the queen must be above reproach. She eats only from his hand. Drinks only from his vein. Obeys his every command.”

Drool coated her chin and slipped down her neck, traveling that smooth column I’d admired on her balcony.

“His every command,” Varick stressed. “If he tells you to strip, you’ll do it. If he wants you on your knees as you are now, then that’s what you’ll do. And if he wants you to suck his dick while I watch, you’ll say yes, my lord and open your fucking mouth.”

Her angry moan warred with the sound of my harsh breathing. I was so close. My skin felt feverish and tight like it didn’t quite fit over my bones. Varick continued speaking like he was making casual conversation during dinner in the great hall.

“Most of his blood is in his cock right now,” he said. “Can you feel it, Princess? A thousand years of the gods’ favor with every beat of his heart. But that’s only half of Laurent’s bloodline. His mother’s line is more ancient. Twelve centuries of the priesthood run through his veins. If he wasn’t king he’d be High Priest of the Sanctum.” He met my gaze, something both reverent and taunting in his. “The darling of the gods, dripping power from his fingertips. Do you want to taste power, Princess?”

No. Oh no. No, he fucking wasn’t. This I hadn’t anticipated. I bared my fangs, ready to shove Given away so I could launch myself at him. “Varick—”

“Bite him, Princess. Sink your fangs into his cock and drink from your king.”

She struck. White-hot pleasure-pain sizzled up my dick. Seared my veins like liquid lightning.

I came on a strangled cry, thrusting hard as I emptied into her mouth. My release triggered hers, and she screamed around my dick as her orgasm slammed into her. She might have pulled off when my come shot into her mouth, but her fangs were buried in my cock, so she had to either swallow or choke. She swallowed reflexively, her throat closing around my pulsing dick. The repetitive clasp of warm, wet tissue made sparks dance across my vision. I hissed, slicing my bottom lip with my own fangs. It was too fucking much—her mouth and my come and the taste of what flowed through her veins. A sinful triumvirate of sex and blood and power.

She coughed and pulled her head away, a mix of blood and creamy white semen spilling from the corners of her mouth. The sight was enough to make me bellow and shoot another ribbon of come. It landed on her heaving breasts in a thick stripe. She sagged, mouth open, her fangs stained with blood. We both struggled to catch our breath.

Varick’s voice was hard. “You thought you were under your brother’s thumb in Sithistra, Princess, but you have no idea what it means to truly wed yourself to power. If you marry Laurent, you will obey him. Because if you don’t, he can boil the blood in your veins. He can stop your heart with a word.”

Her pale head lowered like a flower drooping on a stem.

“Power words,” he continued, “a language only the most powerful priests can speak.”

“Enough,” I growled, standing and tucking my dick away. I stepped around her and went to Varick. He didn’t resist when I snatched the dagger from his hand.

He stayed silent, his gaze unflinching. But his eyes said multitudes. There were entire paragraphs within those golden depths. Accusations I deserved. Indictments I didn’t have answers for. No good ones, anyway.

I stood there a moment, still breathing heavily. “I want to talk to you. Alone.” Now was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t leave Given slumped on the floor.

“I’m at your service, Your Grace.”

It wasn’t insolence. Varick didn’t do petty.

I glanced at the door. “Rem.”

Around the chamber, locks clicked in unison.

Varick kept quiet, his silence louder than a shout.

I returned to Given, gathered her in my arms, and swept from the room.

Chapter Nineteen

GIVEN

Laurent deposited me on my bed like I was made of glass. But I didn’t feel particularly fragile—or willing to let him tuck me in and leave without answering the questions buzzing angrily in my head.

In fact, I felt strong, like I had boundless energy. Varick had spoken of Laurent’s power. Now his blood ran through my veins like a fiery river. It was more potent than Varick’s, or anything I’d tasted before. Colors were sharper. Sounds clearer. I slid from the bed as he went to the wardrobe, and I heard each individual layer of my skirts falling into place.

He turned with a nightdress in his hands.

“I’m not tired,” I said.