Page 61 of The Vampire's Mercy

I shivered, still feeling the cold touch of that rain.

What time was it? The glass of my watch face was broken, the screen blank.

Wait. Was that sunlight pressed against the glass? I rubbed my eyes to be sure. Yeah, the glow of the sun shimmered in the window like a flood held back, its golden glow pooled into a swirling mass of light. None of it spilled onto the floor.

Super awesome glass, huh? I wondered what would happen if I broke it.

The threat of violence got shot down, a short burst of pain in my temples.

Yeah, yeah. I understood.

I got to my feet, my stomach rumbling. Did a thrall get to eat breakfast that wasn’t the king’s blood? I mean, I craved some toast and coffee, so that told me yes. And I’d kill for a mistrock cig.

There was another hunger in me, too. On the fringes, ready to taste the king again.

Bloodthirst.

Dammit. I didn’t want him anywhere near me again.

Yes, you do…

Wait a minute. The bed was gone, nothing but grass there.

I blinked away the haze of sleep. “What the hell? Silvanus?”

No answer.

Did the bed disappear at daytime?

His scent lingered in the air, twinned with the jasmine. I ignored it, not wanting to start conjuring images of his body or remember how good his blood felt inside me.

Shame there wasn’t more of him inside me…

With a frown creasing my forehead, I scanned the room properly. Over in the left corner was a single bed of green sheets with big, fluffy pillows. It sat beside an ornate wardrobe; intricate floral woodwork carved into the doors with keyssticking out of the locks. Jasmine draped over the top, more of it tied to the bed’s headboard.

I gave it a wave.

Was that where I’d be sleeping, seeing as I had to stay here with him? Either that or the floor, because I wouldn’t be sharing a bed with him.

I’d rather mount a cactus.

But not really…

There were more shelves around the room, carved from wood and made to fit into the foresty aesthetics of the décor. Pretty awesome, really. I liked the vibe of this space, kind of wishing I could pull this off in my flat.

Over by the balcony doors was a rock with a cave mouth carved into it. Moss decorated its left side, a tangle of vines around the dark maw, the leaves growing a little in response to my presence.

I folded my arms, doing another sweep of the room. The king clearly enjoyed forests and books. Man, there were a lot of books on those shelves.

“What do you like to read?” I asked, heading for the closest shelf.

It was then I noticed amber eyes watching me from the rock.

I froze. “What?—”

A hiss killed my question.

I called to my stakeblade, but my new thrall nature kept it firmly in its metaphysical pocket. A sharp rejection, like an electric shock, nipped at me.