Page 53 of Vow of the Undead (The Bloodrune Saga #1)

I wanted to be a witch who helped others, not hurt them. Still, I pressed, letting Loki’s chaotic power mingle with my words.

“How could you kill Embla?” I said between my teeth. I couldn’t help myself. If he spelled out his cruelty for me, turning him to dust wouldn’t be so painful.

This shouldn’t hurt, but seeing him now, hearing him say…my name.

Lux.

Lux.

Lux.

King Drakkar knew who I really was, which meant he likely knew what I’d done. When he said he knew me better than to buy my lie, curiosity simmered in my chest, along with something else. Something sinister—like appreciation for a cruel king, for a monster who saw me. Really saw me.

Now I was scanning him, holding him with this power.

A glaze layered over his blue gaze, the compulsion taking control.

King Drakkar shook his head, wisps of the hair knotted at the back of his head escaped. “Embla?” His voice was emotionless from the forced answers. “She is missing.”

“You killed her, you fucking monster! What purpose did it serve?”

“I didn’t kill her. When someone goes missing, I have to look the other way. I can only suspect the purpose was the pleasure of gluttony.”

“You’re sick.”

“It wasn’t me.” He flinched.

This was pure truth. The compulsion didn’t allow him to lie.

But if he hadn’t killed her, why did one of his servants end up on the temple’s step?

The vampire I woke wouldn’t have traveled to the castle just to pluck a random girl and drag her all the way back to the feet of the witch who compelled her.

“Who then?”

“There are many vampires. I cannot say who may have drank from her..”

Except she wasn’t drained, she was bleeding out on the stone. This was murder, plain and simple. Black spots dotted my vision and I knew that if I didn’t stop, I’d go limp in his arms.

I opened my mouth to compel him to release my wrists but I couldn’t find the words.

If I were free to grab the stake, I’d act on instinct.

After so many hours of training, I knew exactly how to grip the stake and where to angle it.

I could lean into muscle memory and let this Call of the Gods commence.

But if he let go, I’d also have to kill him. I’d turn him to dust and he hadn’t even been the one to hurt Embla.

“You didn’t kill her,” I said.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Stop the Age of Exploration.”

He huffed. “I can’t do that. I don’t agree with the council on many things, but humans and vampires will both starve if we don’t go forward.”

“Then release the exiles!”

“They need seers to guide the way, to make it through the storms.”

“Let Ragna go then.”

He cursed and squeezed me harder. “They took all the witches.”

Frustration rippled through me.

Why couldn’t I kill him?

My tongue turned sour, and all at once, I dropped the compulsion.

My chest heaved with the effort of the magic.

I should have demanded he release me, but I’d been too consumed with a twisted sense of justice, as if getting him to confess that he’d killed Embla would help her now.

And now I didn’t have the energy to compel him again.

“Why can’t they simply work with the witches instead of holding them prisoner?”

He frowned. “Witches have been proven dangerous and the vampires don’t trust them, this is part of why they are exiled and then forced to do the vampire’s bidding.”

Something familiar flickered in his eyes, almost mirroring me. Frustration? He had my arms in his hand, my life in his palm, yet his breathing was as shallow as mine. His jaw bulged as he gritted his teeth.

“You hate this,” I said. My gaze rapidly switched between his eyes, examining every flicker of emotion.

He said nothing.

I tilted my head, eyes narrowing. “It’s the council. They control you?”

“Remember when I said to shut that pretty mouth?”

“But this is something more than that. You were mad about the council then. Now, you’re…seething.”

“Ragna was one of my witches.”

A foreign feeling hollowed out my gut. My lips parted but breath stagnated in my throat.

He tilted his head, his icy eyes intense as they raked over me, perhaps trying to understand why I’d returned. “Are you…jealous?” he asked.

“Absolutely not.” I quickly flipped the conversation back to the witches. “What are you doing with them? Killing them?”

He laughed. “You forget so much. I told you I’d share my truths with you when you marry me.”

“Then I’ll compel you again.”

“You’re tired.” He spoke plainly. This was a fact and we both knew it.

I couldn’t lie to him. I’d lied my entire life, to everyone, even Ragna, but King Drakkar already knew the truth and he already knew me.

“You’re leaning against me, and I won’t let you fall.

So I have a better idea than compulsion. ”

I scoffed. He raised his eyebrows and continued. “Because you’re so inclined to deny your attraction to me, I’ll make it easier for you to explore safely. For every kiss you give me, I’ll reward you with an answer. I want you to know everything.”

Everything? Would he share the lost sagas? Our history? My heart thumped.

He released my wrists and I let my hands fall limp at my sides. Staring at him, a hundred questions competed to be the first from my mouth.

“We can start with whatever you’d like,” he said.

“How many vampires live within these walls? What plans I had for Ragna. What I thought when I first saw you.” His voice turned ragged as he brought his lips to my ears.

“What I’m thinking of doing to you now…” He kissed where my pulse beat just below my ear then pulled back, sucking a breath in.

This was for Ragna. I’d tell myself that over and over. It was only half of a lie.

Finally, I tilted my head back until my mouth found his.

He kissed me back with such hunger, I’d forgotten how it made my heart stutter.

Nothing about his touch was soft or intimate like when Kayn held me.

King Drakkar wanted to claim me, to consume me, and nothing about his obsession with me was quiet.

He was open and honest and raw with every moment of his wanting and I couldn’t help appreciate that he didn’t hide his thoughts and desires even when they weren’t quite… right.

His free hand cupped my jaw as his fingers pressed into the soft spot of my cheeks. Pulling me harder into him, I spread my lips and allowed his tongue to explore me. Even when he let go of my face and we parted, I couldn’t breathe.

“Are you going to hurt Ragna?”

“No.”

“What will you use your witches for? ”

When he said nothing, I reached up, feeling for his jaw. His beard was rough against my palm as I drew him into me. He nearly devoured me, kissing with such fervor that it left me shaking, whether from desire or fear, I didn’t know.

When he pulled apart, it was he who was breathless this time. “For a ritual.”

“What ritual?”

Again, I kissed him until he drew back and answered me. “Summoning Odin.”

“What? You want me?—”

“Not you. The other witches. I already have plans for you.” He smirked. “To be my wife, of course.”

“Then why threaten to kill me?”

I leaned into him, enjoying this kiss too much. Maybe it was that he mentioned Odin and it was so rare to hear those words aloud, like I was in the room with another believer. Maybe it was simply that King Drakkar answered every single one of my questions without hesitancy. He always did.

“Because if you don’t marry me, the alternative is your insanity.”

That was it, that was all he said to explain this threat that loomed over me.

“And death is better?”

“No, but I’m selfish. I will not watch the Gods play with you like a toy.

You deserve to die honorably, to fight and ascend to Valhalla.

And Silver, I know you’ll fight back when I come for you.

I know you won’t let me try to kill you without throwing everything you have at me, and that effort will give you a chance to honor them. ”

I searched his eyes. None of this made sense. “Why would you help me go to Valhalla when you hate Odin?”

He inhaled, deeply, purposefully, and teased out my bottom lip with his thumb.

As if he’d trained me, I tilted my face up, kissing him hard.

When he pulled away, I sucked in a breath and grazed my teeth over my lip.

A low hum vibrated in his chest as he watched my mouth, and then forced his eyes to meet mine.

“It’s what you want,” he said. “Anyone who loves the sagas and history as much as you would. And Odin won’t be there for long. It may be his palace, but palaces can be taken, just like I took Mara’s Keep.”

“You should be worried about your own sanity.”

He only laughed.

“Why would you care if madness takes me?”

“I didn’t, at first—” he cut off. A moment of silence followed until I felt his chest rumbling against me.

He chuckled and then clucked his tongue.

“You almost tricked me again. Now I’ll take what I’m owed.

” Before I could respond, his warm hand dipped beneath the coat draped over my shoulder and his palm pressed against my bare chest just below my collarbone.

He shoved me to the side and behind the throne.

Against the cold bronze back of the king’s chair, he pinned me.

He kissed me with his whole body. Every inch of him pressed against me until he pulled away just as quickly as the kiss had begun. I gasped, almost reaching for him.

“I told you before, Lux. You fascinate me. I once only admired your ability to reject control. Then I noticed the way your lips inevitably part when your heart has lost its rhythm. You spent time here with me in the castle and I learned more about you. And now…” I knew he pressed in closer to me based on the heat of his body.

His hand found my hip and his thumb hooked around the bone at my hip, his fingers were hot on my skin even through the fabric of my skirts.

“Now I admire all of you. How could I watch you succumb to insanity?”

“How do you know about…” I couldn’t say the name—my name. Don’t think about it. Ignore it. Ignore it. I coughed and cleared the word away. “What can you tell me about the lost history?”

His only response was a sigh. Perhaps he was disappointed I’d forgotten to kiss him again before presenting him with the question. Silence followed.

Instead of taking the kiss that he was owed, he let go of my hip and found my hand.

“Come,” he said, lacing his fingers through mine, as if we were the husband and wife he claimed he so desperately wanted us to be.

My heart skipped, but I didn’t know if it was for the answers I so desperately wanted. The answers I came to Mara’s Keep seeking in the first place.

Or because his hand fit mine like it was designed to mold together. All at once, he felt familiar, like I’d known him for an entire lifetime.