A Court of Bones & Sorrow (Lunaria Realms #2)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Alaric

I stared at the bright red streak across my fingers. Samara threw a knife at me. At my fucking face. Sure, it wouldn’t have killed me, only decapitation or massive trauma could take down a Moroi, but it would have fucking hurt. And if she’d taken out an eye, it would have taken me days to regrow it.

She’d never endanger your eyes , a voice in my head whispered. She enjoys them too much.

My cock stirred as I remembered the number of times I’d caught Samara admiring my eyes. Usually, I hated being stared at. I was well aware that many people found me attractive, but while Kieran thrived on that sort of attention, I loathed it. Yet when Samara looked at me like that . . . it definitely wasn’t loathing I was feeling.

“Fuck it all,” I muttered under my breath before wiping the remaining blood off my cheek, the cut already healed, since it had been little more more than a scratch. A glint of silver drew my eye, and I grabbed the dagger from where it had embedded itself in a bookcase, just barely missing a book. I smiled. If Roth ever found out about this, they’d make sure to punish Samara in a way the brat didn’t enjoy .

I couldn’t wait to let this little detail slip in the future and watch that play out.

Vail tracked me with that stony gaze of his as I stalked towards the door, dagger in hand, aching to hunt Samara down and finish our conversation because I was far from fucking done. I’d warned Kieran that this would happen. Now his heart was going to get broken because of Samara’s fucking games.

It wasn’t like I expected her to actually marry the prince, but Kieran would have to watch her flirt and lead him on for the next few days. Maybe even weeks or months. Who the fuck knew how long it would take us to untangle this nightmare?

And while, this time, the end result wouldn’t be marriage, I knew it eventually would be, because the Heirs of Houses didn’t marry lowly courtiers.

Just before I reached the doors, Vail slid into my path, blocking my exit. I was in excellent shape, but I was built on the leaner side, and the amount of running I did only emphasized that. Vail was nearly six and a half feet tall and covered in slabs of muscle. The cloak he wore over his brown leathers only made him appear larger.

I halted, eying him warily. The Marshal of House Harker had always been an enigma to me. On one hand, he was one of the most disciplined people I knew. All of the rangers who answered to him did so with respect and something close to veneration, but there was a wildness to Vail, as if his bloodlust was always simmering beneath the surface, just waiting to be let out.

I still remembered what it felt like to be hunted by a Strigoi, a Moroi who had lost all traces of their humanity. When a Strigoi looked at you, it was from cold, predatory eyes. Vail’s gaze always felt the same to me.

“Is there a problem?” I asked cooly, forcing myself not to take a step back and add more distance between us, even as my fingers tightened around the dagger.

Vail’s stare never dropped from my face, but his lips curled as if he was acknowledging I had the blade and found it amusing that I thought it would make any difference in a fight between us.

“I don’t understand you.” He cocked his head, and the pieces of bone braided into his hair and beard slid against each other like little reminders of death. “Usually, I kill things I don’t understand.”

“That’s because you’re firmly in the brawn category and less in the brain one.” My fingers tightened around the dagger’s handle, even as I kept a bored look on my face.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “You have feelings for Samara. I’m pretty sure you’re in love with her, and that scares the shit out of you, so you strike out to hurt her. You did it before when you hinted that Kieran would cheat on her, and you did it a few minutes ago by bringing up Demetri and throwing that in her face.” He leaned forward, crowding my space, and I stiffened but held my ground. “I might not be as well-educated as you, but my instincts are never wrong.”

"I don’t have the time to tell you how wrong you are, nor would I be interested in wasting the time if I did have it.” I held his unflinching gaze. “What I don’t understand is why you would even bring this up now.”

“Because the prince has information we need. As much as it pains me to say this, Samara’s plan has merit.” Vail shifted back with a grimace. “You need to be the coldhearted bastard I know you’re perfectly capable of being and keep your mouth shut around Draven. Samara has enough to handle without dealing with your emotional bullshit.”

“I’m sorry”—I narrowed my eyes at him—“haven’t you tried to kill her twice in the past month? ”

“My bloodlust got a little out of hand in the temple,” he said flatly. “But I’m the reason she got out.”

“So you don’t deny deliberately leaving her behind when the kùsu attacked us on the road?” He didn’t say anything, and I snorted. “That’s what I thought. Maybe you should worry more about your own emotional bullshit when it comes to Samara and less about mine.”

Vail eyed me for several long seconds before standing aside, and I left without another word.

Fifteen minutes later, I barged into Samara’s suite. My temper had only increased on my walk over as several advisors had stopped me to fill me in on various issues that had arisen while I’d been gone. With Carmilla at the Sovereign House, Samara and I were responsible for running things. While most of the more senior advisors were capable and smart, handpicked by Carmilla over the years for their hard work and dedication, some serious problems had occurred while we’d been gone and needed to be dealt with soon. As if we didn’t have enough fucking problems.

The large seating area that made up most of her living space was empty. Well . . . empty might be the wrong word. My lip curled as I took in the chaos of the room. There were stacks of books everywhere. On the low table in front of the settee. On the floor. I picked up one that had been haphazardly placed on the back of the lounge chair and flipped through it.

It was written in the Fae language, so I couldn’t read it, but I was pretty sure it was the Unseelie dialect and poetry, based on how the lines were arranged. Was this what Samara did in her free time? Read poetry in a dead language?

“Careful, Alaric.” Samara breezed into the room with nothing but a towel wrapped around her. “If you keep frowning like that, your face might get stuck, and think of how sad all the lovely, young courtiers would feel if they were robbed of your beauty.”

I gritted my teeth. I knew exactly who she was talking about. There was a group of courtiers who regularly visited from Kieran’s old House—Corvinus—mostly comprised of young, female Moroi who were on the hunt for a good marriage. There was nothing impressive about my bloodline, but my parents had served Carmilla as her top advisors, as I now did. Between this and my appearance, several courtiers from that group had set their eyes on me.

“Sounds like that would be to my benefit, so I think I’ll keep the sneer, if it’s all the same to you.” I tossed the book back down and crossed my arms.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged and started pawing through the piles of clothes that, like the books, were scattered everywhere. Samara frowned as she tossed aside dress after dress before finally holding up a rich mulberry-purple one triumphantly.

“If you just put your clothes away like a normal person, you wouldn’t have to go on a scavenger hunt for the ones you want,” I said dryly.

Samara just rolled her eyes and walked back towards the wide-open double doors that led to her bedroom and bathing chamber. My eyes instantly fell to her ass and the way it shifted beneath the thin fabric. Why did that towel have to be so short?

“I’m sorry, why are you here? Generally, when someone throws a knife at your face, that’s a sign that maybe they don’t want to be in your company.”

“I’m here because I wasn’t finished with our conversation when you pulled that stunt,” I ground out and looked away from that treacherous towel. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Don’t be an asshole and you won’t get knives to the face,” she said in a breezy tone as I followed her into the bedroom. A large bed with a midnight black headboard and deep red covers took up most of the space. My mind instantly went to Samara in those sheets. I suspected she slept naked or in some type of extremely indecent nightgown. “Alaric?”

I blinked slowly, dragging my gaze away from the bed to where Samara was standing next to it, holding the dress in one hand and dangling undergarments from the other. Suddenly, the only thing I could hear was the rapid pounding of my heart, then twin flashes of pain erupted from my gums as my fangs extended. Throughout it all, my expression remained stoic and slightly annoyed. I wasn’t as good at rotating through different masks as Kieran, but I was excellent at this one.

Samara arched one perfect, dark eyebrow. Okay, maybe I was less than perfect at maintaining this mask. Why did she have to continue to be the absolute worst?

“What?” I bit out.

She let out a husky laugh, and the way my dick reacted, one would have thought she’d reached her hand into my pants and stroked it. Fuck. That thought was not helping.

“You just gonna stand there and scowl while I get dressed?” She twirled the black undergarments around her finger. “Because that’s not normally the reaction people have when I’m about to get naked in front of them.”

“Who exactly are you getting naked in front of?” The sharp words came out before I could stop them.

“Currently?” She tilted her head back and looked up at the ceiling, like she had to think hard about the answer.

“Samara,” I growled.

“Alaric,” she mockingly growled back as her gaze fell to me again. Maybe Vail would kill her and solve all my problems? When I continued to glower at her, she sighed. “Only Kier and Roth. Despite what you think of me, I do actually care quite a great deal about the two of them, and the three of us have discussed the dynamics of our relationships. Not that our business is any of your concern.”

“Kieran is my best friend, and your involvement with him will not end well,” I argued, even as I ignored the relief I felt that she wasn’t seeing anyone else.

Her lips curled into that flirty grin that I couldn’t decide if I adored or hated. “I promise you that I’ve given Kier more than one happy ending.”

Argh .

“I’m being serious, Samara.” My fingers tightened into fists at my sides. “If you would just think rationally about this?—”

“Stop.” Black streaks darkened her purple eyes until they were depthless voids. I shifted uneasily. It hadn’t escaped my notice that she hadn’t put her fangs away since we’d left the temple, and her eyes had been shifting between the colors more than usual. These were all signs that pointed to a Moroi’s bloodlust being dangerously close to the surface.

As a Harker, Samara had better control over hers than most of us. It was unlikely she’d ever fully lose control and become a Strigoi. Growing up, she would regularly slip in and out of her bloodlust as if it had been nothing. Even though she hadn’t put her fangs away the last few days, she hadn’t been acting any differently. Just the same old, frustrating Samara who had always slipped under my skin like no other.

But despite that fact, seeing her like this made me tense. My cousin had turned Strigoi, and I still had nightmares about it.

She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled several deep breaths. When they opened a few seconds later, they were back to their startling purple that always reminded me of the night sky. They were perfectly stunning, just like the rest of her. Not that I’d ever tell her that. Samara’s ego was big enough on its own. Plus, that would be admitting to the attraction I felt towards her every day .

And that would absolutely not be happening.

“I’m done with this conversation,” she announced. “And I’ll be getting dressed now. Leave.”

“We’re not done with this conversation, and you can get dressed in there.” I pointed to the bathing chambers.

“It’s my room, and I’ll get dressed wherever the fuck I want.” She raised her chin in challenge.

“Not leaving.” I crossed my arms. Knowing Samara, she would deliberately take an hour to get dressed just to avoid having this conversation. She’d already stormed away from me once, I wasn’t letting her get away again.

Something wicked danced in her eyes, then she tossed the clothes onto the bed and whipped the towel off before I could object.

Fuck. I kept my eyes locked on hers. For three seconds. Three excruciatingly long seconds.

My gaze dropped, and I was pretty sure my heart stopped with it. I’d seen Samara naked before, but it’d been steamy and she’d been lying down at the edge of the pool . . . with Kieran’s head between her legs. There had been a lot to process, and I’d stormed out before either of them had noticed just how hard my cock had grown at the sight of them.

Well, Kieran had spotted that fun fact. Samara might be oblivious to my frustrating interest in her, but he wasn’t, and he absolutely loved to push me about it, because I was apparently surrounded by assholes.

I should have looked away, or better yet, I should have fucking left the room. Instead, I stood there and drank in every delicious inch of her. Samara was nothing but enticing curves. She had the most glorious chest to ever exist resting above the soft curve of her stomach and thick thighs that would feel amazing wrapped around my head. I couldn’t see her ass from this angle, but I knew it would be plump, round, and something that would beg me to grip it. Hard .

“Have you looked your fill?” she drawled. “Because I really need to get dressed so I can get some work done.”

I snapped my eyes back up, my jaw tightening at the amusement I saw written all over her face. She was the one who’d been naked in front of me, and yet I was the one blushing like crazy.

“I hate you,” I said flatly before turning around and stalking towards the door, Samara’s deep laugh following me out.

“Good talk, Alaric!”