Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 99529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Xander’s face came into view.
A scream lodged in my throat from the sight.
Dear Ambi!
Tattered flesh painted his horns, and they were thicker and bigger. Blood trickled down his face. His fangs hung well past his bottom lip, dripping with blood. Rage glowed in his red eyes. He was bigger than ever and it terrified me.
“It is me, my queen.” He drew his fangs into his mouth with a snap. “I’ve become a monster.”
“No. . .” I tried to say more, but my throat stung.
“I released your Phinova Dominas.” He turned around with me in his arms and guided my view to a long trail of women behind us.
Xander. . .
Lots of them stumbled forward with their heads down, hair ruffled, ripped robes, and dirt-smudged skin.
Royal Guards walked among the women. Some let the dominas lean on their shoulders to travel.
Other guards carried the younger dominas in their arms.
“I gave most of the guards a choice,” Xander said. “Die or join with me. Most decided to live.”
“B-but—”
“It’s only been a few hours since you’ve been. . .gone, but now you’re back.” Xander hurried his pace and looked forward. “I killed the enemies. I clawed through their flesh and spilled their slimy contents inside. No one else will hurt you like that again. No one!”
I swallowed in fear as his skin rippled under me.
“For now I need to get you somewhere safe and far away from danger. And then I plan to kill the Quiet King.”
I parted my lips, trying to say something to change his thinking. He couldn’t go after the Quiet King, especially not by himself.
Whatever happened to Ian? He promised me he’d watch over Xander. He promised. Did he help the Queen, or is he dead?
“Relax. You’ll be safe soon.” Xander rushed off with me, quicker than the average pace of a man or vampire, faster than a wild tiger or well-bred horse.
Wind dashed by.
The clopping noise increased with his speed, racing us down the moonslit road. Pebbles and dirt kicked up under his hooves.
I bounced in his hard arms.
He tightened his grip.
Dear Ambi! He’s so powerful.
My right eye fluttered, but still I battled to keep it open, if only to see him for a few more seconds and know I was secure in his arms.
He said he was a monster.
I disagreed.
He was my king, and nothing less or more.
And he has to remain safe.
I rocked in his arms and managed to screech out, “K-king.”
He sighed and glanced down at me. “What are you saying, my love? I can’t hear your thoughts any more. I don’t know what you’re thinking or if it’s you and not something else moving inside that delicate skin.”
It’s me.
My eyes closed as exhaustion lured me into the dance of sleep.
“Are you truly back to me?” Xander asked. “Or. . .are you something. . .else?”
Chapter 10
Oblivious
Ian
What is better than a nude maiden widening her legs for me to fill her?
Two nude maidens widening their legs!
I hadn’t been lucky enough to get two women yet, so I lured only one domina into the back. I was in the fake queen’s room, Xander’s mother, or Queen Regina to those who cared.
The woman loved oil paintings of herself. They littered every wall.
However, even her face couldn’t prevent my disrespect of my brother’s kingdom.
The blasted Quiet King.
I’d vowed to myself to violate all of the dominas on this side of the castle just to piss him off. If I were here tomorrow night, I’d penetrate the rest. By the time my brother Nai returned, he’d smell me all over them.
What other way would I pass the time? I should piss on his statue before Xander, Camille, and I leave.
A loud laugh escaped my lips.
“What’s so funny?” The domina’s face reddened as she lay down on the bed and untied the belt on her robe. She wore no bra or panties under it. “Am I funny to you?”
“No.” I slipped off the black leather costume top and threw it on the floor. “This room is so dreadful it is funny.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Do not let the queen hear you.”
Queen? I know queens and she is not one.
The room was themed for the silver queen. A mockery of blinding counterfeit silver plastered against all the walls.
I’d put out most of the candles to stop the walls’ reflection of light blinding my eyes.
Her silver-painted mascot the snake was carved in the metal walls, the steel posts of the beds, and even within the iron door of the room.
Cheap perfume drowned the small place—a blend of chemicals, dead flowers, and oil probably found in the shadows of the bottom, where the lowest peddlers traded filth and garbage.
I imagined Queen Regina in that area, holding up her expensive gown with her hands as she slithered around with thieves and murders, plotting and buying scents worthy enough for a whore.