Page 97 of Disillusioned (A Lay of Ruinous Reign #2)

“Not hurt.” Garin’s dubious laugh was cold. “I was at your feet like a mongrel. My hands were up your dress?—”

“You were unsettled and wanted to find me. ”

“I wanted ,” he confessed, “to dig my fingers into the plump flesh of your things. To spread your legs and nuzzle my way to your bloody cunt, feast on you in front of the entire room. I wanted—” Garin stopped himself, nostrils flaring.

He looked down. “I don’t remember much after Myrddin yanked the wine bottle from me. I came to as I knelt before you.”

Silence followed, Lilac’s shame and desire poorly masked, given the raucous thudding in her chest. She sat back in the chair, careful not to make any sudden movements. “What did you see when you hallucinated?”

His eyes lingered on her throat for a brief moment before looking away. “A blur of foliage, water, and flame. Details were muddied. I was in the dark and desperately had to get to the light, that’s all.”

He was editing, she could tell. But she wouldn’t pry.

It wasn’t the time. “There was no one but Rupert harmed. I had my guards inspect the rest of the gifts with Father. They seemed undecided whether to consider it a crime. I advised them to let the issue lie with all the pending celebrations.” She lowered her voice. “Was it a Low Forest toadstool?”

“No. I would’ve been stuck in my hallucination for weeks if it was. Like Sinclair,” he added darkly. “You would’ve had to put your stake in my back.”

Lilac laughed abruptly, taken aback. He must’ve been feeling better; it was very like him to joke in the face of danger. “Never.”

He didn’t return her smile. “The toadstools infused into that wine were indeed not fae-rooted. Myrddin was right, it’s not a poison, but that doesn’t seem to matter between regnant and thrall, given the unique effect of any influence—mortal or magic—that befalls us.

You saw what happened with the Dragondew Mead. ”

“But there were those women outside your room, who wanted you just as badly.”

“It wasn’t the mead that caused them to act that way.

Likely, they’d had a taste of being from during sex before, and wanted to experience it again.

That, coupled with the mead, is a high in itself.

” His laugh was empty. “But you were the one willing to break down my door and tear another woman out from beneath me, weren’t you? ”

“You were the one who commanded me to you,” she seethed, reddening. “It was the first time I felt your pull.”

Garin frowned, as if he had more to add to the matter. But he only said, “If ever necessary, if I am ever past reason, you will drive that stake through me.”

Lilac refused to think of the cloth-wrapped stake in her bedside drawer. She’d never use it on him. “I don’t know who’d be brazen enough to send that bottle of wine here.”

“Well, let’s think. You’re in no short supply of those less than fond of you who’d consider it an amusing joke,” Garin growled. “Have your guard investigate discreetly. I’ll deal with the culprit when they’re found.”

By now, her vision had adjusted to the dimness of the makeshift room of curtains. He looked tired, purple-gray shadows under his eyes. Drained, even as he regarded her in morbid fascination.

Lilac tossed the cloth aside. “You need to eat. You’re unwell.”

“Thanks.” Garin looked pointedly at the plates she’d brought him. “I’ll sleep it off.”

“Did you bring any blood from the inn?”

“Yes, several bottles. Lori spelled them to keep for a few days. I can go back for more when needed, but those are tucked deep in Myrddin’s travel chest. Where is he, anyway?”

“I just heard him downstairs, probably in the northern corridor. I suspect he was singing them to sleep. He was the one who told me he’d handle things and advised I come see you.

” She’d last seen him in the foyer after he’d escorted her and Piper back out the western corridor. “I could go get a bottle for you.”

“ No ,” Garin said before she could get up.

A small gasp erupted from Lilac’s throat.

Her thighs burned just as she felt her knees lock, her bottom pressing firmly into the chair cushion.

Eyes darkening at the startled gasp that erupted from Lilac’s throat, he froze, self-assessing.

“I’m not hungry at the moment,” he added softly. “I’m sorry.”

Granted, there was none of the calculated voracity that had marred his countenance at the brothel, but Garin didn’t look not hungry.

“Your hesitation is understandable after everything at The Fool's Folly,” she offered. “But you should eat something.”

“I’ve had plenty,” he chuckled dryly. “You are simply my preference.”

“ Oh .” Lilac forced herself to think of anything but the sear of his fangs: pastries, Bisousig , the cool breeze upon her balcony… The sickening heat of Th e Fool's Folly. Shit . The wide set of apothecary shelves across the room. “And mortal food will only make it worse.”

“Madame Kemble already tried feeding me an apple. I gave her fair warning it wouldn’t stay down—and it didn’t. Along with the rest of Hedwig’s lovely supper.”

He needed sustenance. His hunger would catch up to him sooner or later. “I saw Kemble’s bucket. Everything you threw up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of taking it from you, not by biting you. Vampires cannot be glamored. Not even by Myrddin.” Curiosity crept into his expression, his slate eyes dancing as he leaned forward. “Have you ever touched yourself while bleeding?”

The low growl of his dropped voice scraped across Lilac’s spine. “What?” she spat, aghast. “No. No .”

“It might help.” Garin shrugged, his mouth tilted. He didn’t even attempt to hide his morbid fascination. “Have you had someone else do it? That Rupert, perhaps?”

She hadn’t wanted it, but she’d be lying through her teeth if she said she hadn’t considered it before tonight—especially after meeting Garin.

The thought of something so obscene was repulsive.

Distracting. She lifted her chin as her haughty voice wavered.

“I haven’t with Rupert.” And just because she’d climb onto Garin’s stupid, smug face the moment he suggested it, she flusteredly added, “And I won’t with you.

I told you at dinner, I belong to Maximilian. ”

Reminded, Garin ran his tongue over his teeth and nodded curtly, the hunger fading from his eyes. “I understand wanting to abstain for your new king of a husband.”

“Emperor.”

His lips pursed. “Right.”

Lilac clenched her thighs together, infuriated.

Even through her bleed, she could tell how wet she’d grown.

As her regnant, he knew precisely what his presence did to her.

The hungrier Garin was, the more of a menace he’d be.

The more intensely she’d feel everything—this lasting loathing and longing.

How was she supposed to hold herself from him, conduct herself, when his very presence edged her into temptation?

She eyed the scalpel and empty cup Kemble left for his bloodletting.

Garin remained silent when she stood, plucked the scalpel from the tray, and nervously held it over her wrist. The blade was long.

It could do real damage to herself if she sliced the wrong way.

He shifted, tossing the blanket off, dangling his legs over the side of the cot so he could sit up to watch her.

He was wearing a different pair of brown trousers Kemble must’ve given him.

“As emperor,” Garin said, clearly unable to refrain from talking himself into a deeper hole, “Maximilian is allowed to have several beautiful mistresses at his disposal, before your marriage ceremony and after. But one public word of your infidelity, and you’re done for. To the gallows for Lilac Trécesson.”

“Eleanor of the House of Habsburg, thank you,” she corrected. “Though, I wouldn’t put it past you to be the very one to tell him of our trysts.”

A vein popped at his temple, his fingers flexing at his side. “ Trysts . Your new husband would loathe knowing it’s taken me no time at all learning the nuances of your body—how to soak you without laying a finger on you—in a way that would take him the entirety of his short, miserable lifetime.”

The wave of heat that hit her nearly caused her knees to buckle. “Just hours ago, you were singing his praises in front of everyone. Not so fond of Maximilian at the thought of me riding him, are you?”

Garin closed his eyes, struggling to compose himself. “He is a fine leader and excellent commander. He will make a proper husband.”

“But is he a good man? Will he make an excellent lover? It’s anyone’s guess.” She reveled in Garin’s envy, trailing the scalpel teasingly along her skin. “I suppose I could always keep you around for that once I let him believe he’s deflowered me.”

“ Bleed yourself already .”

Her arm yanked of its own accord, the prick of pain at the base of her palm registering belatedly. She’d missed her wrist. Scowling, Lilac dropped the scalpel and hovered her palm over the cup of milk.

Together, they watched the red stain the cream in blotches. Red flowers in the snow.

“You’re just afraid of what you’ll lose,” she whispered, hand stinging, “when I willingly follow through with what you wanted all along. You didn’t consider how jealous this would make you. ”

“You are my thrall. I wanted this for you, your kingdom’s safety and security above all else. I lose nothing, not when you are mine.” He looked down at his hands. “You act as if you had a choice.”

There was scorn in the undercurrent of his words; Lilac bitterly wondered if Garin had ever truly thought her marriage through. If it had even crossed his mind that their marriage might sentence Maximilian to a fate worse than death by Garin’s own hand because of his very nature. And what he felt.

Lilac had seen him angry. She couldn’t imagine what his jealousy might look like. Maybe, there was a part of her deep down, that yearned to find out.