Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
“I will.” I didn’t want to feel that kind of pain again. “So, I wasn’t imagining the whole biting me part then?”
His head cocked. “No.”
“I have questions about that.”
Two deep splotches appeared in the center of his cheeks as his shoulders tightened. “You do?”
I nodded as I watched the blush spread across his face, thinking how cute it was. “There was no bite mark left behind…”
The tension eased from him. “That’s because I closed the wounds.”
My brows shot up. “Come again?”
“I closed the wounds,” he repeated. “With my tongue.”
I vividly recalled the hot, slick slide of his tongue as he’d eased his fingers from me. Now, my cheeks warmed. “How is that possible?”
“I nicked my lip and drew my blood,” he explained, the color of his eyes deepening. “Just a drop was on my tongue when I ran it over the wounds. So, in reality, my blood healed them.”
“Oh,” I whispered, suddenly finding the soft robe far too thick and heavy. “Why didn’t you do that before?”
“My blood will only heal the bite I created. I couldn’t remove traces of Taric’s bite without you drinking from me, and that would’ve required more than just a drop.” His jaw hardened. “But before that? After I bit you?” He frowned. “I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“Interesting,” I murmured, and he raised a brow. “Anyway, I’m okay. I thoroughly enjoyed that bath. It was a surprise—a very nice one. As were other things.”
“Other things?”
Like what came after. The talking. What he’d said as I fell asleep. I couldn’t make myself say any of that, though, no matter how hard I tried—or how much I wanted to push past the feelings of vulnerability. “You were very good at what you did with that tongue.”
Nyktos stared at me. There was no flash of smug, male pride. Just a faint flush and a look of surprise as if he couldn’t believe I thought that. He cleared his throat. “I fear the food will grow cold if we linger any longer.”
My gaze swung to the table by the balcony doors, where only one covered dish usually sat.
Tonight, there were two.
My breath snagged at the sudden thumping of my heart. Two covered dishes. Two glasses. A bottle of wine.
“You said you didn’t want to eat your suppers alone,” Nyktos began as I stared at the two plates, a knot lodging in my throat. “It’s late, so I thought you might not want to go to the dining hall,” he added in the silence. “But if you changed your mind or would prefer other company, I can—”
“No. Don’t leave.” I lurched to my feet so fast my face turned the shade of the Red Woods. “I mean, I haven’t changed my mind.”
“Glad to hear.” A faint grin appeared. “Otherwise, I was starting to feel rather awkward.”
I didn’t think it was possible for him to feel as awkward as I did just then. I hurried to the table like I was afraid he’d be the one to change his mind. And I was. I busied myself with getting seated. “How was Court?” I asked, praying to the Fates that this wasn’t one of those moments where I was projecting my emotions all over.
Nyktos followed far more sedately, taking the seat across from me. “Nothing too eventful.” He leaned over, lifting the lid from my dish and then his. “A handful of minor complaints between neighbors.”
“I’m kind of surprised that such things are brought before a Primal.” I unfolded my napkin, placing it on my lap.
That grin of his returned, deepening as he picked up the bottle, showing a hint of fang. My stomach twisted in the most distracting way as he pulled the cork, and an aromatic, sweet scent hit the air. “I’m actually glad they bring these issues to me.”
“You are?” I watched him pour the deep red wine into our glasses.
“Yes.” He picked up a carving knife as he relaxed into his chair. “It means they’re comfortable enough to do so. That they don’t fear me, and they feel safe enough to come to me.”
“I didn’t even think about that.”
“Were the people of Lasania not comfortable enough to bring such concerns to the King and Queen?”
“They used to be. They’d hold town halls where things could be voiced or asked for.” I eyed the fine tendons of his hands and fingers as he finished carving the thick breast, pushing the slices into a neat pile beside the glistening mound of vegetables. “But as the Rot grew worse, the complaints got louder, and more things were requested. They stopped the town halls. The protests began shortly after.”
“And how was that received?”
“Not well,” I admitted. “The Crown dealt with the protestors quite severely. And instead of stockpiling food or moving farms to lands untouched by the Rot, they did nothing.” Old anger returned. “They waited for me to…”