“May I remind you I prefer to consume a liquid diet.”

“I’m aware. As is half of Carcerem.”

Was that…a note of anger I detected? Something akin to jealousy, perhaps? The thought titillated.

I opened my mouth, and she tucked the sugared fruit between my lips. Before she could withdraw, I trapped her fingertip, grazing it with an extended fang, hard enough to break the skin.

The sorceress inhaled a breathy gasp yet didn’t pull away.

Despite the sticky treat, Runa’s unique flavor washed over my tongue. My eyelids grew heavy, a low growl rumbling in my throat.

Runa’s luminous eyes turned languid, her breath coming in short pants.

Of all the veins I’d tapped since my arrival, hers wasn’t one of them.

Runa wasforbidden fruit.

And may the gods help me, I prayed this taste of her wouldn’t be my last tonight. I grasped her wrist and released her finger, taking care to draw my tongue along the quivering digit.

“How—” Her voice cracked. “How was it?”

“Delicious,” I purred, desire heating my veins.

“Would you,” she gulped, with her eyes still riveted to my mouth, “like more?”

“From you?” I kissed the inside of her wrist, her fingers trapped in my hand. “Always.”

“Holy bula dung,” grated a coarse voice. “Would you get a load of you two?”

I broke free of the enchantment the sorceress had me under and turned my attention to a woman seated at the end of our table.

At least, I believed the creature to be female. Thick tusks jutted from her bottom lip. Her flesh had a greenish cast to it, and her nostrils sat within a broad nose. Beside her was a male with similar features.

“Excuse me?” I asked in my most disdainful voice, irritated at the interruption.

Pain erupted in my shin, and I cut a glance at Runa, who waggled her brows at me. Oh. Right. I was Morgue, the peasant. King of the Dung Merchants.

I cleared my throat, relaxed my posture, and drawled, “What’s this now?”

“Little old to be newlyweds, ain’t ya?” the woman asked.

“Newlyweds?” I scoffed, only to receive another kick under the table.

I cast Runa an evil smile in retaliation. “Nah. Me and my old lady been mated for five turns.”

“Best two turns of my life,” Runa crooned, again batting her lashes.

“Well, nonetheless, good to see a couple keeping the spark alive. Me and my Eldorth are still randy as two nymphs. Though it can be difficult to find a moment with a pair of pups running about.” She hiked her thumb at a group of children who tussled in the dirt. Two had tiny tusks. One of the younglings stood separate from the others, staring over at our table. Little fellow had a strange gleam in his eyes and a head full of explosive orange hair.

I frowned. Odd little chap.

“Morgue and I have half a dozen little ones of our own,” Runa said. “Right, Morgue?”

“That’s right, Fungaria. That’s why we locked ’em in the cellar for the night. Everyone deserves an evening off.”

At the female’s horrified gasp, I realized my mistake. What did I know about younglings?

This improvisation earned me another kick. “Dance with me,” my blushing bride demanded.