Page 36

I drifted awake, the world returning in fragments as the vivid dream faded. Curling onto my side, I buried my face in plush sheets. Tingles ran up my skin, dancing from my spine to the languid muscles in my back. They settled low, between my legs, a slow, insistent throb. It wasn’t a painful sensation, but I had never felt anything like it before. I shifted my hips, pushing up a leg—

Discomfort flared through me.

From between my legs.

From where the kings had hollowed out a place inside me for their cocks .

My eyes shot open. Morning light danced across the black sheets tangled around my limbs in a massive daemium bed. The Imperium’s bed. The night returned in a rush, a blur of bliss, sweat, and shuddering breaths.

Blood rushed to my cheeks.

Oh, stars. I fucked two beautiful, terrifying, alluring vampire kings.

Or, more accurately, had been fucked by them. It wasn’t like I had done much more than scream as Jules first pounded into me and then bounced me on Luc’s impossibly thick cock.

I had enjoyed every second of it.

I threaded my fingers through my mess of brown hair and tugged. Shit. The ache between my legs pulsed in time with my heartbeat, a constant reminder of what had happened.

Of who had been inside me.

I pressed my palms against my face. It changed nothing, right? It was just a little sex. People had sex all the time. I was now one of those people. I, Nessa Halloran, who had spent the last decade hiding in my bookshop in pain, had been railed by two vampires into multiple mind-blowing, sleep-inducing orgasms—

Stop thinking about it.

This couldn’t change anything. This didn’t change anything. I was still the Mortal Bride, a living sacrifice and home to the Impire’s most important spell. The kings had forced me from my shop, my sister, my life like they did hundreds of Maboni every year. Vampires were terrible, evil creatures who killed millions, including my mother.

Probably. The kings had said they’d find her. But not because they were helping me out of kindness or affection. They wanted to know who had cast the soulbond and why. Nothing more.

I inhaled to calm my wild heart—

And nearly moaned. The sheets smelled of smoked honey and thick spice, sweat and sex. It smelled like them . Obviously. The kings hadn’t only fucked me. After I fell asleep, the debauchery had continued.

Flashes of the dream returned.

Luc’s back against the headboard, goblet of blood wine in hand.

Jules kneeling between his legs, pale hair tied in a knot.

The lazy glow of moonlight glinting off damp skin, the slow drag of a pierced tongue along a pierced length.

The softness of Jules’s hair on my knuckles and the tug of Luc’s fingers in my scalp as the Conqueror held the Butcher steady, guiding him deeper.

I shook my head. I needed to get out of here. But their scent wasn’t just on the sheets. It clung to me, from the dried sweat on my skin to the…

To the unmistakable stain of our combined pleasure streaking my inner thighs, tinged pink with my blood.

A bath. That would solve it.

I rolled onto my side and crawled toward the bed’s edge, eyes locked on the door leading to the kings’ bathing chamber. I didn’t know if it was mine to use, but right now, I didn’t care. Nothing would stand in my way—

“Going somewhere, little curiosity?”

My throat went dry. My nipples hardened. A flutter tightened my stomach. Pressure increased between my legs. I turned every so slowly toward the sound of that alluring voice, already knowing what I’d find. As soon as the question formed in my mind, I sensed them.

Across the expanse of fine carpets before the bed, Luc and Jules sat around the cozy circular table. The King of Dusk clutched a book in his hand, a silver ring once again on each finger. Every strand of his blue-black curls lay perfectly in place, the silver buttons on his dark violet doublet fastened all the way to his throat.

Across the table, Jules had an open sketchbook propped against the table’s edge, resting on his crossed legs. His pale blond hair was swept into a messy bun, and his maroon robe hung loosely at his middle, the belt barely tied, exposing a sliver of his perfect chest.

Those bright silver and gold eyes were already fixed on me.

They probably had been since the moment I awoke.

I swallowed. “I just… to the bathing chamber?”

I didn’t mean for it to be a question, but it became one anyway. Luc arched a dark brow. My heartbeat stuttered.

“I have to pee and…” I waved a hand vaguely, my face heating even more “...bathe.”

“No.” Luc returned to his reading, flipping to the next page.

I stiffened. “You can’t just—”

“Just what?” Jules cut in, tilting his head. “Mark you? Claim you? Lovely, that’s exactly what we plan to do daily.”

I gritted my teeth. “You don’t get to decide how I smell.”

“Don’t we?” Luc asked.

“So if I try to bathe, you’ll stop me?”

“Not at all. But if you wash our scents off you, we’ll be forced to reapply them.” Luc’s gaze flicked to mine, intent. “And given our packed schedule today, we’ll only have a half-hour to do so.”

“I don’t think our sweet bride is ready for that, Lucey,” Jules said, twirling his pencil through his fingers, the movement quick, dexterous. “If she thought one-on-one was overwhelming, how would she survive two-on-one? We’d have to carry her limp body around for the rest of the day.”

“But I’m… sticky.” Even if I ignored the sweat and cum, glitter smeared across my neck, breasts and stomach.

“Sticky?” Jules repeated with a slow grin.

I bristled. “Oh, fuck off.”

Jules suddenly leaned over me, close enough that our noses nearly touched. “How about I fuck you again instead?”

I yelped and clutched a sheet to my chest, even though the kings had seen every inch of me.

“If you think you’re sticky now, give us that half-hour and we’ll show you sticky.”

I forced my expression into a glare. The kings had cleaned the night from their skin, a flawless bronze and ivory, but they’d force me to walk around reeking of sex. Reeking of them .

That sounded exactly like something they’d do, didn’t it?

“I don’t like being dirty.”

Luc turned another page. “You aren’t dirty. You’re scent-marked.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks. The kings had claimed me as Azaras had Karra, scent-marking me with their cum like I was their possession. Because I was their possession. The small parts of me that had succumbed to the soulbond hummed in satisfaction. But the rest of me was embarrassed and confused and panicked and enraged.

I swallowed down every rampant emotion. “For how long?”

“You can bathe tonight.” Jules stretched back to full height and slid his pencil into the groove above his ear. My gaze dropped to his exposed chest, the muscles rippling faintly with the simple movement. “We should have more than enough time after that to mark you again.”

Heat rushed from my face down my neck, creeping lower. Focus, Nessa . I forced my expression into a glare, but my displeasure wouldn’t change anything. The kings had made up their minds. I was their soulbond, but I had little sway over them. I was just a warm body to house their spell, their soul, and now their cocks.

Exalted Morrena’s implication that I could change things in the Azarasian Impire seemed even more ridiculous in the light of day.

Jules held out his hand. “Join us.”

Join them? I frowned… and only then did I notice the food on the table. Golden croissants sat in a gilded basket beside a platter of soft cheese and cured meat. A small dish held eggs, their tops cracked open to reveal golden yolks. Nearby, steam curled from a delicate porcelain pot, the scent unmistakable. Coffee, a delicacy from the east. Aislin had tried it once, a gift from the magistrates at her wedding to Donal.

It was a breakfast fit for kings, extravagant and excessive.

Hunger crashed into me. My belly growled, the sound echoing through the room. Luc didn’t react, but an unnerving twinkle entered Jules’s eye. “I do love a woman with an insatiable appetite.”

“I’m hardly insatiable,” I muttered.

“No?” His grin widened, all teeth. “Then what was all that begging about last night?”

Heat surged up from my chest. I swallowed hard, willing my body to stay still, willing my already overheated face not to betray me even more. I raised my chin ever slightly.

Jules found my prim response endearing, if the deepening of his grin was any indicator. He wiggled his fingers.

With a sigh, I placed my hand in his. There wasn’t any other option. Sparks flared to life where our skin met. I leaned into the touch.

One night, and I was addicted.

Straightening my shoulders, I pushed to a stand, wrapping the bedsheet around me—

“Leave the sheet,” Luc said impassively.

I froze for a moment. They’ve already seen every inch of you, idiot. With a slow exhale, I let the sheet flutter down beside me.

Luc’s gaze dropped, unhurried, to my breasts, my hips, the curve of my ass. Jules’s eyes didn’t even flick past my nipples. But both their irises darkened, silver and gold swallowed by hunger.

I cleared my throat.

Bright eyes flicked back to me. Jules cocked his brows. “Yes, wife?”

My shoulders tensed. I couldn’t deny that word, not any longer. We might not have married, but the only man a Maboni woman touched like I had the kings was her husband. “I thought we were on a tight schedule.”

He sighed and led me to the table. “I guess.”

“You don’t guess, Julien,” Luc said, flipping another page with infuriating calmness. “You know.”

“Ignore him. He’s not a morning person.”

I snorted. The Conqueror wasn’t a morning person? What an asinine thing to know. “And you are?”

Jules hooked his foot around a stool and dragged it out for me. “I’m an anytime person.”

I gingerly dropped into the seat, trying to keep my head held high despite sitting naked between two clothed kings. The ache between my legs flared as my ass sank into the cushioned seat. I flinched. How much pain would I be in without magic? I didn’t want to imagine.

Without looking up from his book, Luc reached over and traced the shadowy lines of the rune on my arm. Soothe . The discomfort faded instantly, replaced only by the tingling heat of his skin against mine. My nipples peaked at the touch.

For once, neither of the kings had any sly remarks.

Luc nudged a teacup closer to my empty plate. “This will help, as well.”

I plucked the porcelain from the table. Instead of coffee, dark red tea steamed in the cup, releasing a light floral scent. “What is it?”

“Willowroot tea,” Luc said. “It has restorative properties. Most thralls drink it daily to counter blood loss and increase stamina.”

Ah. While thralls had duties beyond serving their masters, not all seemed physically demanding. There was only one reason they’d need more stamina. “I see.”

I took a sip, the warmth spreading through my chest. The taste was pleasant enough, but something lurked beneath the floral notes, something nearly bitter.

“Luc also spiked it with his blood,” Jules added.

I almost choked. “He what ?”

Jules snorted. “You’ll get used to it. After all, you’ll be drinking our blood for the rest of your life.”

“Why?”

Jules met my gaze and grinned. “You’re mortal, remember?”

I blinked at him. Right. That.

The soulbond tied our lives together.

Karra had been a witch, but she had still been mortal. Her lifespan was measured in centuries, unlike Azaras’s eternity. If Karra couldn’t kill herself to kill the demon king, all she had to do was stay away from him until she aged and died. And he would have, even if he were in perfect health.

But I didn’t see how drinking blood would solve that issue.

It was like Luc heard the question. “Drinking our blood will halt your aging, like Azaras’s blood did for Karra.”

“I’ve only read Volume I,” I said faintly. “I haven’t gotten to that part of the story.”

“Give us a spoiler warning next time, Lucey,” Jules said, flicking his pencil across the table.

Luc caught the pencil without looking and tossed it right back.

I ignored their antics. Boys. “So vampire blood makes mortals immortal?”

“Not all vampire blood,” Luc said. “Blood from a vampire of average power can only heal a mortal’s illnesses and wounds.”

“But your blood…?”

“Will make you effectively immortal.”

I nodded, my head bobbing slowly for far longer than it should.

Immortal .

The word settled in my gut like a stone. I had spent years preparing for death. The harvest, the unknown fate that awaited me in the Impire, the certainty of becoming a blood thrall—I had made peace with all of it, because I had to.

Now?

Now, I would never die. Not naturally. Not in a few decades, not even in a few centuries.

Eternal. Unchanging.

Just like them.

My stomach twisted. I would outlive my sister. Outlive her children. Their children. Would I even remember Aislin’s face in a hundred years? Would she still be real to me when time stretched so long I couldn’t see its end?

A shiver crawled through me. I had never wanted to be their Mortal Bride. But at least mortality had given me an escape from the pain, whether emotional or physical.

There was no escape from this.

I pressed my lips together, setting the cup down before I could taste the blood in it again. Jules was still grinning. Luc was still reading. Like the entire world hadn’t just shifted beneath my feet.

I exhaled sharply and reached for a pastry instead.

Because what else was there to do?

The room drifted into a somehow comfortable silence. Jules rubbed the base of his pencil against his temple, his gaze as intent on his sketchbook as Luc’s was on his book. Was this how they spent every morning? It was surprisingly peaceful, almost mundane, for two vampires known as the Conqueror and the Butcher.

I should have welcomed the quiet, the peace, but my foot jiggled as I bit into the pastry. I wasn’t comfortable in this new life. This new immortal life. Who knew if I ever would be?

I tilted my head, my gaze catching on the spine of Luc’s book. Irrevocable Tethers: The Magical, Biological, and Psychological Consequences of Soulbonding by Crown Mage Rafael Valcázar. Consequences? What consequences? A prickle of unease tightened my throat.

I knew the author’s name, though. Rafael was in The Soulborne Queen . As Azaras’s Crown Mage, he’d witnessed the first soulbond. Studied it. Warned Azaras how it would change him. My fingers curled against my thigh.

Rather intense reading for the morning.

On my other side, Jules had his sketchbook once again propped at an angle, only the vague impression of lines visible from my seat. I leaned forward—

“Nah-ah, no peeking.” He pulled his sketchbook closer until I couldn’t see a thing. “It’s not done yet.”

Fair enough. Aislin had been the same way, refusing to show me the gowns she made until they were finished.

A pang shot through my chest. It had been a little over a week since the harvest. Now that I was the kings’ soulbound, would I get to see my sister again? Or was I still doomed to the fate of every thrall, parted from their loved ones forever?

But if they let me visit home, what would I even say? I had fucked the Conqueror and the Butcher, our terrifying, unholy Imperium. Only once, sure, but given it would take a week to get there, we’d easily be in the double digits by then. Maybe even triple. The bond pulsed between my legs already, a damning reminder.

I was their Mortal Bride, their eternal blood thrall. And I wanted to hate it, needed to hate it, couldn’t hate it, and did hate it all in one breath.

I was finally the wicked, sinful whore my stepmother always thought I was.

I shook my head sharply. It didn’t matter right now. I pulled apart a croissant and scrambled for any topic that would stop my thoughts of home and damnation. “What’s on this packed schedule of yours?”

“There’s an execution at half past ten,” Luc said. “Then our bondnephew, Rosier, has his bond rite ceremony—”

“ Our bondnephew?” I had flinched at the mention of an execution, but now I twisted toward Jules. “Isn’t he your blood nephew?”

“Yes, which makes him your and Luc’s bondnephew.”

I opened my mouth… and snapped it closed. I now had more claim to the young Prince of Dawn than his own mother did.

I flinched inwardly at the thought of Maire. The way she had stared at me last night returned to me vividly. Maire and I weren’t friends. We’d had a handful of conversations. But we were both humans in an impire ruled by monsters. A world ruled by monsters. I had thought her an ally. She obviously had, as well.

But last night, I looked like the Conqueror and Butcher’s pampered thrall, wearing their gems and begging for their touches. In her mind, just as bad as Odran.

If only she knew how much worse it was.

Maybe today she’d find out. “Am I attending all these events with you?”

“Did you have other plans?” Luc asked sardonically.

“No.” I hadn’t really thought much about what I’d do in this new life. I had spent the first half of yesterday in survival mode and the second half wildly and inappropriately aroused.

Today, my survival was almost guaranteed… as was my arousal. The second I refused to consider. But the first opened a world of possibilities, ones I had never allowed myself to consider. Wishing for the impossible only brought pain and misery. I had let go of all my dreams a decade ago, so long ago that I couldn’t even remember what they were.

There were too many unknowns to start dreaming again right away. Who had cast the soulbond on me? What did they want? What would they do next? What would the kings do next? But what I did know was that I didn’t want to spend my new life being paraded around. Yesterday and the night before had been difficult enough.

I needed time alone to think.

“But no one besides your council and guard knows I’m your soulbound,” I said. “Won’t someone get suspicious?”

“You’re our Mortal Bride and thrall.”

Damn. That was a yes. I stabbed my fork into a slice of poached pear. “Doesn’t your Mortal Bride usually stay in your apartment?”

Luc closed his book and set it carefully on the table. “Who told you that?”

“It—” I almost said éamon.

Stars, I had fucked his murderers.

I pushed down the sudden burst of panic… or maybe the soulbond did. Either way, I let it go. The kings couldn’t harm éamon anymore, but they would know if I lied.

And I couldn’t watch Maire die, too. “Does it matter?”

“We didn’t always bring our past Mortal Brides with us, but not because we were hiding them,” Jules said with a small frown at me. “If someone tried to break the covenant runespell, I just killed them.”

I shuddered. Of course. The Butcher wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to cut someone into pieces.

A gentle knock sounded at the door.

I went stiff. Dozens of the thralls had seen me naked yesterday morning, but today was different. With one look at my tangled hair and dust-smeared body, whoever was at the door would know the kings had fucked me.

Luc watched me intently, his eyes not even flickering to the door when he said, “Come in, Tristan.”

“But…” I started.

“But?” Luc repeated.

“It’s just…” I glanced down at my lap on habit, but that only made things worse. My thighs were a mess. “It’s very… obvious and—I—it—”

Luc arched a brow. “It?”

I stammered. “I—you—we—”

Jules put me out of my misery. “They already know Luc and I fucked you. I’m sure all of Dawnspear knows.” His smile grew wide, wicked. “You’re quite the screamer.”

My flush spread through every inch of my face.

After a moment of silence, the double doors clicked open, like Tristan had waited for us to finish. He stepped through and bowed. Behind him, Maire and Riona dropped to their knees as Estrella mirrored her soulbound from where she stood behind the thralls.

All of them remained that way even as Tristan said, “Your bride’s attendants, as requested, Imperium.”

“You may rise.” The vampires did as Luc commanded, but Maire and Riona stayed on their knees.

“Maire and Riona will dress you for the day.” Luc glanced at the thralls, every bit of heat in his gaze freezing. “You may wash her face, but nothing else.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they both murmured instantly.

“We leave in fifteen minutes.”

I remained seated until four pairs of bright eyes focused on me.

Luc tilted his head, a slow, assessing look. “But if you insist, we can clear our schedule.”

Jules grinned. “I love spending all day in bed.”

I jolted to my feet. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then go,” Jules said. “If you stand there any longer, you’ll end up face first on the table with a cock in your cunt.” He winked at Luc. “Whose, I’m not sure. I guess it depends on who’s faster.”

I glared, but stepped away from the table. “You don’t need to be so crude.”

Maire’s eyes ricocheted up to me in shock. She must have thought me insane to speak to the Butcher that way.

“I don’t,” Jules admitted. “But it’s quite entertaining to watch you flush.”

With a final glare, I turned on my heels and marched for the Mortal Bride’s bedchamber. Chills slivered down my back as too many eyes focused on my bare skin. But I didn’t run or scream. I kept my head held high until I pushed through the door into the small room.

The moment it closed behind me, my knees almost buckled.

I pressed my back against the wall and closed my eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. The kings were no longer watching me, but I wasn’t alone. I wouldn’t ever be alone again. Even if Maire, Riona, and Estrella hadn’t followed behind me, two faint presences hovered in the back of my mind. I frowned, trying to shrug off the ghostly sensation, but they didn’t fade.

It wasn’t my imagination.

It was the soulbond settling into my bones.

“My lady?” Maire asked hesitantly.

I flinched and turned to her. Riona stood at her side, Estrella lingering near the doorframe. Past them, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.

I thought I’d look different. Changed. But I was exactly the same, if slightly more mussed and only wearing my collar and a skirt of tangled chains. Gold and silver dust smeared across my skin, nipples, and inner thighs nearly bare of the glitter. There weren’t any marks on my skin, as if the kings hadn’t bitten me as I clenched down on Luc’s cock.

I shuddered.

Maire’s eyes flicked down my body, then back to my face. Her mouth opened, then shut. Her expression softened with… pity? She should hate me, hate everything I represented.

But she didn’t know I was a traitor to my people, to all humans trapped on this cursed world overrun by demons and their monstrous spawn.

There was something else in her expression, too. A question she wouldn’t dare ask.

The kings didn’t treat their Mortal Brides this way.

She might not know why yet, but she would soon.

Everyone would soon.

I swallowed. My hands clenched into fists.

“It’s alright, my lady,” Maire said, misreading my panic. “Let’s get you dressed.”

But Maire didn’t know.

It wasn’t alright.

And I wasn’t sure it ever would be again.