Page 3 of Cruelly Bitten

It was time to send a communication to the leaders of the world—Your king has returned.

But first, I needed to move my pet to her quarters. I’d only put her in my bed because I’d hoped for her to awaken while I worked.

Alas, she remained comatose. Not my preferred flavor of female.

“You had better be ready when you wake up,” I told her as I lifted her from the bed. “I’m going to destroy you.” Because her scent was fucking killing me. That had to be why I’d chosen her as a mate—her addictive fragrance and taste.

I glanced down at her breasts again.And probably that attribute, too.My gaze traveled over her.All the attributes, hmm.

“Pity you won’t wake up and give me a proper distraction.” I carried her through my room to the bathroom area and the walk-in closet beyond it.

There was a little door at the back that led to the space I’d had made up for her. It was meant to be a private dressing room, but a small bed had been brought in to replace the furniture.

Nothing else existed here apart from a light overhead, which was controlled via a switch in my closet.

Just like the door had been redone to lock from my side, not hers.

I set her on the mattress and paused to admire the way her blonde hair flowed over the single pillow.

Very pretty, I admitted.But still asleep.

“Such a waste.” I left her in the dark and locked the door before grabbing one of the many suit jackets hanging in my closet. The inky fabric paired well with my dark pants and my obsidian dress shirt. Mostly because it rivaled my mood—black.

Lilith had failed me. Not that I was surprised.

Oh, she’d been a faithful little pawn, following our cause all the way to the end. But she’d never been all that powerful. Her skills had resided in politics, her ability to persuade and manipulate others providing her with a strategic edge when convincing others to follow her lead.

But that was where her skills had ended.

She’d been naïve.

Arrogant.

Too caught up in her own glory to consider the brute strength of her elders.

Which had led to her demise, thus initiating the protocol to wake me up. Although, according to my assistant, Michael, she’d been considering stirring me from my slumber several months ago.

The rebels of our kind had started gathering forces. It wouldn’t be enough to take down the Blood Alliance. But they would undoubtedly pose certain problems that I wanted to get ahead of.

Spilling ancient blood would be a waste of precious material.

Thus, we needed to find a way to collaborate. Form a middle ground. Or design a way to make the revolutionaries heel.

It would start with the mission I intended to deliver to the royals of my kind and the alpha lycans.

“My liege,” Michael greeted with a low bow as I exited my room. He’d obviously been waiting for me, perhaps sensing my intentions through our Sire bond.

Because apparently I’d turned this male into a vampire as a gift to Lilith.

I had no memory of the act, nor did I feel all that connected to the man, but the records indicated I’d gifted him immortality shortly before the revolution. Michael anticipating my needs only bolstered the truth of our shared history.

His bright green eyes met mine for a brief second as he stood upright, his focus shifting to the female lingering near a door at the end of the long residential corridor.

Mira—the original lycan.

She remained alive while the rest of her kind always expired. That was what made her more of an equal than her brethren and why she’d joined our cause a century ago.

Or that was what Lilith’s notes had stated.