House of Secrets and Vows (Crown of Deceit #1)

17. Hunger and Curses

17

HUNGER AND CURSES

T he urge to sink my teeth into the vein running down Zariah’s neck overwhelms me. Her heart thumps like a heavy spring rain pounding against cobblestone.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The pulsing of her blood is such a delectable sound. It would be so easy to give in, and I can only imagine how divine she would taste.

And I’m so hungry...

Her voice pulls me from my trance. “You’re quite beautiful, too.”

Fuck . I need to pull myself together. I’m not a monster with no self-control. I’m the fucking prince of Valazica, soon to be named permanent heir to the throne.

With a long swallow, I pry my gaze from her neck to her eyes. Her bright green irises flicker in the moonlight as she stares at my face.

I shouldn’t have taken the shot. And I most definitely shouldn’t have brought her out here alone… The buzz of the fae brandy swims through me, commanding the voice of reason in my head to quiet.

She reaches up and cups my cheek.

Her touch is pleasantly cold against the scorching temperature of my skin.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I can’t escape the luring drum of her heart. It calls to me like rain to a dying tree. A strange, balmy note tinges the coppery scent of her blood, unlike anything I’ve ever inhaled. The metallic aroma merges with the bergamot perfume of her natural sent, swirling into a fragrant bouquet that makes saliva pool in my mouth.

Thump. Thump.

One bite and I could know how sweet she tastes. It would be quick, and I would stop before it killed her.

I've done it before…

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It had been so difficult then, the calling of my bloodlust echoing in my ear as it’s doing now.

Zariah’s thumbs brush my skin, and I shift my focus from the scent of her blood to the sensation of her touch.

The distraction is enough to calm the rising urge.

“Where did you come from?” I ask.

She flinches as if I’ve struck her. “What do you mean?”

“You said you’ve never attended a Solstice before. I would have noticed you.” My words are true, but her reaction reminds me of why I wanted to get to know her, that she spends her days as a priestess.

Although I know one of her truths, she knows one of mine, too.

And yet she’s come to the forest with me.

My mind revolts at the logic, the brandy pushing any deep thoughts away, but the buzz is fading, and so is the liquor’s strength.

Her heart rate speeds. “This was the first time I was invited.”

A howl sounds in the distance.

The breeze blows a bundle of leaves from the thicket of trees into the air in a whirlwind that glides over the lake.

She withdraws her touch as she peers at the water. Her dark hair falls back into place, covering the sides of her neck. “Perhaps the ghost everyone speaks of is nothing more than the wind.”

My body yearns for the return of her touch, but she steps away.

My craving for blood lessens as the distance between us grows. “If there are any ghosts out here, they’ve never bothered me.”

“Even ghosts love princes.” She leans at the edge of the lake and runs her fingers through the water.

“Not all princes.” I chuckle. “My brother came out here once, and he won’t even speak of it.”

“Maddox?”

“Yes. All he would share was that something scared him enough that he fell into the water and sprinted back to the castle, soaked.” I hadn’t even thought of River. Does that make me horrible? “Ghosts surely would have loved River more than they loved me. Everyone loved him.”

Using the past tense so casually twists my heart, but the knot loosens as quickly as it formed.

Zariah remains focused on the lake. “I’m sorry for your loss. It’s difficult to lose those you love.”

“You’ve lost someone?”

“My mother.” She swallows before standing up and stepping away from the shore. “It was a long time ago.”

“Is it true what they say? Does time heal all wounds?”

“Not in the slightest.” A sad smile forms on her face. “Numbs them, perhaps. Which is a blessing.”

A fog of grief washes over my mind, but the fae brandy pushes it away.

I close the distance between us and lift her chin gently with my fingertips. Our gazes lock as I wrap my other arm around her waist and, with the buzz of the liquor swirling through my mind, I bring my mouth closer to hers.

I want to feel something so strong that sadness is the last thing on my mind.

As I am about to close the last inch between our lips, the call of her blood strikes. So close to her, I can taste the floral undertone beneath the heavier metallic scent.

She stares at me with her lips parted, waiting for me to finish the gesture. I inhale deeply, willing myself to focus on the desires of my now-hard cock, not the allure of her blood.

But the curse is too strong, and if I meet her mouth with mine, it won’t be the only thing I taste.

Gods, what was I thinking?

I’d taken the shot of fae brandy with Zariah on a whim.

She'd made it through the four challenges and earned her shot and black token, as everyone else who got all four tokens always does. But I don't usually take brandy with the winners. The fae liquor is strong and unpredictable, and it's what started the night I was cursed in the House of Blood ritual.

I should have learned my lesson.

I pace in front of the hearth, the hold of the fae brandy long gone. The fireplace in my room burns slowly as the embers of the last log fizzle out.

I shouldn't have even thought about kissing Zariah. Oh, how I’d wanted to, though, there in that forest, my one safe haven from the chaos of being a prince. But getting so close had only enlivened the deeper desires that now haunt me.

No one would have stopped me if I’d sunk my teeth into her neck.

No one would have heard her screams as I drained the life from her.

And it would have been a long time before anyone found her body.

Realizing just how close I’d come to crossing the line, I feel nauseous.

And now sober, I’d be a fool to think I’d have had any willpower to stop myself.

The memory of the scent of her blood floods me, and I cross the room to the trunk in front of the window. I yank it open and throw out the blankets sitting on top of a wooden box. Inside the box, I take a bottle of blood, rip off the lid, and suck the entire thing down.

Not another drop comes out when I’m finished.

I chuck the empty bottle at the wall and scream as the glass shatters into a hundred pieces.

Burning hell, what have I done to myself?

I spent the night alone with a stunning—albeit mysterious—woman, and I was so fucking overwhelmed by the scent of her blood that just kissing her would have been dangerous.

Fuck, even being alone with her was dangerous.

Since I was plagued with this curse, I've been so careful. I've curbed my hunger with bottles of blood, kept away from my friends, and I haven't even thought about being intimate with a woman.

Not when my control balances on such a thin thread.

But for the briefest moment tonight, when Zariah's hand held my cheek, I almost forgot.

Almost.

Until the thrum of desire to rip into her neck nearly overtook me.

I drop to my knees, ready to scream again, when a knock sounds at the door.

"Brother?" Maddox says from the hallway. "Everything all right?"

What is my brother doing here so late? It’s halfway to morning now.

I rise and scoot the broken shards of glass to the wall then cover them with a spare blanket before opening the door. "I was just heading to bed. Can we talk tomorrow?"

"I heard you left your revel with a woman. Did?—"

I cut him off. "Fuck, brother, are you spying on me?"

The thought burns my throat.

"No, of course not," Maddox says, glancing back and forth in the hallway. "Can I come in?"

I sigh, but I let my brother enter, willing my building anger to subside. The last thing I want to deal with is another brotherly lecture.

Maddox closes the door. "I was leaving father's chambers when I overheard a servant woman mention that you were seen holding a woman's hand. You know how gossip spreads here."

He’s right, I know very well how everyone is always watching. It is fucking maddening and one of the biggest reasons I prefer a haunted forest to this godsdamned place. "I was bored. We went for a walk. So what?"

It doesn’t matter that Maddox is right, and I know it.

He crosses the room and peers out the open window to the view of the city below. "You know how much I love you, brother. But pretending your...ailment...doesn't exist will serve no one."

"You think I'm pretending I'm not controlled by the sound of your heart pumping blood through your body, brother? I hear everyone's heartbeat, all fucking day long. And I will forever. But that doesn't mean I have no control." Even as I say the words, I'm not sure I believe them.

I didn’t bite into Zariah's neck, but oh, how I wanted to.

At the thought, saliva fills my mouth, and I swallow it.

I hoped with time my bloodlust would dim, but if anything, it grows every day. Bottled blood satiates me well enough, but it is nothing like blood from the vein.

A thrill I’ve only experienced once, and one I wish I could take back.

Maddox fixes the bunch in the curtain. "I know you would never mean to hurt anyone, but luring a woman outside at night is dangerous, Nevan. What if you had hurt her and all those people at the revel saw you two leave together? What if she was found in the forest, drained of blood, and the last person anyone saw her with was you?"

I gulp, the image of her dead on the ground piercing me as painfully as a blade. “You're right. I’ll be more careful. But I'm tired now, so?—"

"I'll let you get some rest." Maddox nods. As he is about to leave the room, he turns toward me. “Your recklessness will be your downfall, brother.”

I don’t bother arguing.

Maddox is probably right about that, too. I’ve already made enough mistakes to last an entire lifetime, mistakes that would have cost me life long ago if I hadn’t been blessed with the title of prince to save my ass.

When his footsteps fade, I yank the curtains shut and strip off my clothes before getting into bed.

What a fucking mess I’ve thrown myself into.

What would my brother River think of me now?

With no embers left in the hearth to light in the room, I’m left in total darkness. But the lack of light doesn’t keep me from seeing, not since the curse, and I stare at the tall ceiling above me as I remember the scent of Zariah as she cradled my face with her hands.

Maddox is right, damn him. I need to be more careful, especially when there is so much I don't know about the priestess.

I hadn't expected being with her to feel so right, not when I know she’s up to something. She knows I’ve been cursed, but how much does she know about the House of Blood? Does she understand the danger in being around me?

I managed not to tear into her throat tonight, but next time she might not be so lucky.

Any time we spend together is a game of fate—a game, someday, we’ll lose—but I'm not sure I can stay away.