Page 14 of Serpent In White

I glare at him, shooting a look he doesn't need spoken words to hear, and he smirks at me.Evil motherfucker.

But Kiara and Alissa appear enticed by this idea, and they waste no time at all touching each other, sensually running fingers through one another's hair, down arms, onto waists and such. Alissa, being the more assertive one, grabs Ki by the face and hauls her in for a kiss. Kiara returns it, though looking much more seductive with the slow build-up. Unlike Alissa, Kiara is a silent assassin. She's like Drake in that way. Quiet and calculating, but every bit as manipulative when she needs to be.

Drake is watching them kiss attentively, cocking his head to the side as Lissa's hands grip Ki's waist and tug her closer, Ki writhing into their little makeout session.

But I barely notice it. I'm too busy watching Drake in agony over the damnsilencein the room. It’s suffocating. There are faint murmurs still, but I can't make out any actual words.I hate this.

I'm desperate.

Kiara crawls on top of Alissa, sliding the front of her top down to expose her breasts. Then she trails her lips down Alissa's neck, leaving a dull red from her lipstick all over Lissa's tits.

My eyes slink back to Drake, and he's already looking at me, his tongue gliding over his lower lip. My patience has worn out, frustrations bubbling over.

"Leave us," I bark at the girls, and they immediately pull apart, breathing heavily as they get up and do as I say, closing the door on their way out.

No surprises there. For all their errant behaviors, I'm still the goddamn King of this castle, and I'm not to be argued with.

Drake huffs a small chuckle, stepping over to the bar to pour himself a drink. "You seem on edge." He lifts the glass and swirls it before taking a small sip, eyes flickering at me. "In need of some...solitude, my King?"

My jaw goes tight. Any time he calls me that, it's laced with sarcasm. Drake is the only person in my Regnum who doesn't worship me, in a sense. And that's because he's basically my brother. He knows me unlike anyone else.

And I've always seen us as equals, too. I mean, all human beings are equals, I know that. But I'm also the leader of this community, and to a certain extent, I'm seen as aKing, which is why I play the part.

But Drake and I... That's something different.

It makes me sad at times that no one other than my brother trulyknowsme. Being the Head Priest is a lonely calling, but it's one that chose me. I have to respect the wishes of Mother and care for her people as she has assigned me to.

Drake wanders over to the edge of the bed, and I crawl closer to where he stands, tilting my face upward.

"Give me a hit," I demand, and he raises a dark brow. I grit my teeth. "Please."

He lurches over where I'm kneeling on the bed and leans up against the post. He slips a finger under my chin, tilting me even more, so that my throat is angled up to him. Then he slides his hand down, curling his fingers and holding right over my Adam's apple. I can't help but swallow, and it bobs beneath his palm.

I'm suddenly so much warmer, burning inside my clothes while he does that slow-blink at me. "Mmm... nah. Not in the mood. How about tomorrow?"

I growl out of frustration and back up, slapping his hand away from me.

"What do you meantomorrow? I didn't ask you, Drake. It was an order. I need a goddamn hit. Now."

"And I said... tomorrow," he hisses.

My fingers rake through my hair, displaying my agony. It's no use hiding it from Drake. He already knows what I'm thinking.

"Why are you toying with me?" I rumble, chewing the inside of my cheek. "Just give me some now. I can take it without all the extra games, you know that."

He grins, a wide, evil-looking thing and leans over me until I have no choice but to back up. "Aww, brother... Where's the fun in that?"

I wish I could find it in myself to be repulsed, or angry about this shift in power. But I can’t ignore the flutter in my stomach at his words.

And the anticipation he builds for me to get what I want; what Ineed.

Tomorrow.

The truth is, I wouldn’t want Empyrean without the way Drake gives it to me. It’s my superpower. My ultimate connection to Mother. But when it comes paired with a dose of my foster brother, it’s like breaking my inner light free from chains, if only for a few hours. I really can’t resist.

We’ve so woven ourselves up into something tangled beyond rationale, like a web of sensation and mind-altering completeness, that I can barely tell what’s Empyrean and what’s Drake anymore.

HeisEmpyrean. Empyrean is him.