Page 88
Story: House of Vampires and Flame
“Keep your big mouth shut and mind your own business!” I hissed in a low voice.
I wasn’t a fool. I knew if anyone dared to challenge any of the princes like that, they wouldn’t live to tell the tale. He’d put me on edge since the first time he’d spotted me, and I couldn’t even null his magic. And whenever he was around, I just wanted to fuck him so badly. As I didn’t know how to react around him, I did the only thing that made sense to me—I lashed out.
He grinned innocently. “Defensive much? What set you off?”
I’d had enough of his games. My face burned in humiliation and frustration.
“Don’t play dumb!” I hissed more. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you give bad advice to Prince Louis about sending his women to suck my little cock!”
He raised his eyebrows, amusement sparking in his eyes. “Did I hear little?”
“That was what you said! Don’t deny it!”
“Were you eavesdropping?” He widened his eyes mockingly. “Maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned little, especially since you’re petite, even for a girl. But you’re a boy, so I assumed—” He gestured at my front, where I’d put a sock in my undergarment.
My face flamed redder, and my gaze darted to his hand. Damn, that man had a large and powerful hand, like his cock that pounded into me in that unholy dreamland.
“Hmm, you disagree, I see,” he purred sensually. “I apologize if I was mistaken.”
My jaw clenched so hard that it hurt. While I glared at the chaos prince in defiance, my body strummed with a song of desire, wanting to be stroked by him like a guitar. My pussy was aching with need. Killian sniffed, his eyes darkening as deep as midnight.
I bit my inner cheek until it bled. Every moment around him spelled danger for me. I needed to get out of here if I wanted to stay in one piece.
Before I could shoot away from the ice rink, he stopped me, his voice a caress. “Tell me, who was the lucky one who sucked your little cock?”
My face burned, but my eyes burned hotter. “Fuck off, asshole! You know nothing about me!”
I’d blurted out the curse. A few squires and elite guards nearby stared at me and gasped. They’d been darting sneaky glances between the prince and me, wondering what the prince of the House of Chaos could want from a lowly squire from another house. Rumor had it that the chaos prince didn’t even bother talking to nobles on his best days.
If one so much as looked at the princes wrong, they’d snuff you out, just as Louis had declared. And now I’d offended the deadliest prince in public. Killian could cut me down, and no one would lift a finger to help me; they would probably spit on my corpse.
Gunnar dashed toward me like a black widow on steroids. He was wearing a blond wig now since I’d turned him bald last time. Still holding a grudge, he’d been waiting to get to me, and I’d presented him with this perfect opportunity. Not even Silas could fault him for striking me, and he didn’t care for me much, and then Louis was all for “if I couldn’t have you, then no one else should have you.”
“How dare you offend His Highness!” Gunnar scolded, his claws out to swipe at my face.
I ducked lower like a white flash, ready to retaliate and kick the vampire in the nuts, but Killian shot forward, faster than a blink, and gripped Gunnar’s wrist.
“Don’t. Ever. Fucking. Touch. This squire!” Killian said icily. “This one is mine.”
Gunnar blinked, shock, fear, and confusion slamming into his face. I was a little shocked too, since the chaos prince should know that I wasn’t his. I wasn’t even in his house.
“Beat it,” Killian ordered.
Gunnar cowered, bowed, and fled after he shot me a hateful glare.
“But I’m not yours, sir,” I said. “I’m not the kind of bo—person who needs anyone to fight my battles. I can handle Gunnar. I was about to kick him between his legs really hard, and you shouldn’t have saved him the pleasure of being kicked in the nuts by an ice skate!”
“Aren’t you fierce, little dagger.” He chuckled, his hooded eyes falling on my lips. “Better watch that mouth of yours.”
The blood drained from my face and pounded furiously in my ears. When he’d thrust deep into my heated channel, he’d called me little dagger. I had thought what happened in the dreamland hadn’t been real.
A sequence of drumbeats rose from the spectator seats where the members of the House of Chaos assembled, shouting their prince’s name.
The other princes had gathered in the center of the ice rink, the opposing teams facing each other. They turned to look at Killian, waiting for him to join them.
The prince of the House of Chaos took his time skating toward them, smooth and fast and powerful like a war god, his chest bare, his muscles flexed, his smirk devastating.
The audience, especially the girls from all the houses, jumped up and down, waving their hands and screaming his fucking name, and the drumbeats rose to a fever pitch.
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