Page 28 of The Vampire’s Mercy (Blood Melody #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

PARIS

What a prick.

Me. I was the prick for losing my cool. Running my mouth didn’t make for a good plan, only got me trapped down here in the dark, chewing on regret.

I had to be better than this. Not let him get to me, immerse myself into palace life while biding my time and figuring out the weirdness.

But he’d pissed me off. Everything about him woke the beast inside me, my duty to kill hungry for him.

I mean, look at him. Look at the shit he did, grabbing me like that, throwing me onto a bed as if I were a rag doll.

What a scumbag.

Man, I hoped my nastiness got under his skin. And what was with him saying he wasn’t my enemy? Pfft. So funny. What a fucking comedian.

The silky sheets smelled of him, this damn pit rife with citrus and sexual energy.

“I hate you,” I said, knowing his vamp hearing would catch it.

And hated myself for the little flash of excitement I got when he’d pinned me to the bed. A flicker of horniness, my body ready for some rough sex.

Never. Never. Never. I’d peel my skin off if I ever gave in to him. Peel it off and toss it in a fire.

Would you?

By Aidan, how long did I have to lay here for? What did he consider a sufficient timeframe for an epiphany? Well, a fake one.

Time to blow smoke up his perfect arse. Kings loved that shit, right?

I bet his backside was perfect. A real peach of a booty, if the way those trousers hugged him was anything to go by. An arse to get lost in, explore it like a—

I shut myself up, reaching out to the room’s flora to help me relax.

It did. Massively. The energy a happy, bubbly fizz.

Thanks, sweeties.

The bed rose again after Aidan knew how long, the whole of me free to move and speak again.

I prepared myself to be a compliant elf, only to find the room empty. No vampire king, and no snake.

“Anyone here?”

There was a pile of clothes on my bed, neatly folded. Green jacket, trousers, and a white shirt.

Elio’s?

Steam curled around the edges of the bathroom door, white tendrils licking at the air.

“Hello?”

Elio stepped out of the steam, a white towel tied around his waist. He gave me a pointed look, as if to say, Ha ha! In your face!’ then greeted me properly.

“Good evening, Paris.” He went to fetch his clothes from the bed.

“Er, hi. What are you doing here?”

He dropped the towel. Oop! I averted my eyes, not in the mood for elf dick right now.

Elio chuckled. “Servicing His Majesty.”

“Okay.” The sounds of rustling followed.

“I’m dressed,” he said.

I looked into a face full of afterglow. “Enjoy yourself, did you?”

He nodded happily. “My king knows how to please.”

Why did he give me such a haughty look? Did he want me to be jealous or something? If so, the guy barked up so many wrong trees.

“How are you?” he asked, fiddling with his choker.

Can you sound anymore insincere? “I’m sweetcream.”

His nostrils flared slightly. “You haven’t been very sweet to His Majesty, have you?”

Ooo, so we were playing this game, huh? “No. And I regret that.”

He regarded me with mean eyes which hadn’t been there before. When we’d first met, I found him to be pretty nice. That’d quickly faded.

“I—”

Medusa chose that moment to slither out of the hole by the rock, cutting him off.

“Oh dear,” Elio groaned, turning to face her.

The snake hissed angrily, curling across the floor toward him.

He began backing away. “I’d better leave.”

Medusa’s body coiled into an aggressive stance. Now I saw why Elio seemed nervous when we’d talked about her.

Unable to take his eyes off her, he bumped into the door, fumbling with the handle. “Your…Your Majesty?”

“What is it, Elio?” Silvanus’s voice drifted from the bathroom.

The elf really couldn’t get to grips with that handle.

“M-Medusa is… Oh my…”

The snake hissed, inching closer.

“Medusa,” Silvanus said. “Leave him alone.”

She didn’t move again but pinned him with her amber peepers.

Elio finally got the door open, launching himself into the hallway.

“Wait!” I called.

He spun, all the color drained from his face. “What?” Now he looked like he wanted to slap me.

“You forgot your towel.” I pointed to the damp addition casually draped over my bed.

He sighed, then darted back in to grab it.

Hiss! Ooo that was a big one.

He yelped and barreled into the hallway, slamming the door behind him.

Medusa hissed again, then came over to me. She hissed gently, lifting her head, tongue flicking in and out.

“Hi,” I greeted her.

A gentle hiss, her head resting on the edge of the bed.

“How are you?” Ha! As if I could understand her.

A second gentle hiss.

“Awesome.”

Did she like me?

After a few beats of staring, she slithered away, heading for the rock, disappearing inside.

“Paris?” King Prick called.

Dammit. “Yeah?”

“Come here, please.”

I almost protested because he might be naked and, well, just no to that. But I decided to obey before he forced me, especially seeing as I was going for the good-little-thrall vibe.

He’ll see right through it.

“Coming,” I answered, sliding off his bed and taking deep breaths, making sure I stayed cool, calm, and easy breezy.

Thick steam engulfed the bathroom, so dense and hot that my skin flushed, sweat beading to the surface in an instant.

The king sat in the bath, his back pressed against the wall, arms stretched out across the edge. His scarlet eyes burned through the steam, making my skin itch.

“Sit.” The command came as physical force. Like a puppet on a shit load of strings, I went down opposite him, crossing my legs. The wet floor soaked through to my backside.

Great.

He watched me intently. “Did you enjoy your quiet time?”

I pushed my shoulders back. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Silence fell between us again. I kept my mouth shut, waiting for his lead, and doing my best to not eye up his muscles.

“Medusa is not Elio’s biggest fan,” he finally said.

“I gathered.”

His eyes were focused on the water now. Unblinking, as if in a trance. “I’m not sure why.”

“You can’t like everyone,” I answered.

Man, this floor wasn’t comfy for my backside. Couldn’t you catch an anal something from prolonged moisture to the arse?

“I suppose not.” He blinked, lifting his eyes to me. “I understand why you hate me. I do.”

I sat straighter, keeping silent. Why were we going here? What would it achieve other than me losing my shit again?

“We all bear the scars of war,” he added. “Those memories aren’t broken, unfortunately.”

His scars? I’d never considered them. Why would I? He was the leader of the invading force. In my opinion, he didn’t get to have scars because he’d started it, and now got to sit pretty while my sister—

No. We weren’t going there.

“Have you ever considered your purpose?” he threw out.

“My purpose is to kick your arse.”

Damn. I couldn’t help myself.

He smiled again. “Is that so?”

“Sorry. I—”

“It’s the truth.”

Ugh. Why was he so calm? Luring me into a trap or something? I’d better tread carefully across his eggshells.

He dropped his hands from the edge of the bath, sinking into the water up to his chin. “I’d like to show you something, after you shower and change.”

He shot out of the bath like a smear of light. I jumped to my feet, feeling a jolt in my chest from the sudden move.

“I’ll leave you for fifteen minutes,” he said behind me.

I faced him, heart in my throat. “Oh…”

He was fully dressed now, in black leather trousers and an open black shirt, his damp hair swept back. “Until then.”

He left.

Damn, I hated how crazy fast he moved. And I hated how incredibly fine he looked. Sex on legs with a side of get-in-me-immediately.

He left me alone to shower and change. I did it quickly, waiting by the bedroom door until he returned.

His eyes raked across my body, admiring my hideous purple outfit. “It’s time for you to sing.”