Troubled (The Binding Chronicles #4)

28. Nectar of the Gods

Nectar of the Gods

S hadows curled around Therese’s limbs like lovers as she pulled long draws of blood from the limp woman strewn across her lap. Every drop tasted like the nectar of the gods, and she moaned. Ithiar help her, but she would never get enough of this.

The woman had stopped crying several minutes ago, and her soft mewls of pain had ceased not long after that.

Therese drank until the body was drained of blood, and then she pulled her fangs from the woman’s neck. She dumped the human on the ground, where it joined the four others she’d killed earlier that evening.

Licking her fangs, Therese grinned.

Death tasted as delicious as it had the first night of her Making, thousands of years ago. She’d never tire of drinking from humans, never grow weary of hearing her victims scream.

Fear made the blood taste better.

This had been a good night, and even though the gnawing hunger remained in her stomach, Therese felt more like herself than ever.

That was good .

Her destination was drawing near.

Days had passed since she first learned of the imposter royals. She’d spent that time hunting, feeding, and developing a plan.

She’d begun interrogating the humans before killing them, seeking information about the so-called king and queen. The mortals were surprisingly talkative once she demonstrated how painful she could make their impending deaths.

None of them escaped her—she was far too hungry to waste good food, but she was merciful. If they gave her information, she drained them quickly.

Now, thanks to those humans, Therese knew everything there was to know about the royals. The pair was Bound, and they had taken the throne less than two decades ago.

All the humans said the king was a dangerous male. Black-hearted, he only cared for his wife. A love of the ages, some declared. A marriage destined by the goddess of the moon herself, one had claimed. A good change of power, a man had said in a shaking voice last night as a wet stain spread across his pants right before Therese sank her fangs into his neck.

The king was feared by all, but the queen…

The stories they told about her were different. The people spoke about her reverently. As if they cared about her. As if they liked her.

Strange. Therese had never seen anything like it.

The queen had been a barely Made Fledgling vampire when she and her husband killed the last queen. Nearly fifteen years had passed since then, but what was a decade and a half when vampires lived for eternity?

And then, there were the rumors about the imposter queen’s blessings. She was thrice blessed, the same quivering man had told her. Even after Therese pried, he wouldn’t divulge the third blessing.

It didn’t matter .

The castle was close, and Therese had a plan. She was growing tired of being the only powerful one, the only one who recognized her strength.

That wouldn’t do. Not long-term.

She would rebuild her court and reestablish herself as the head of this country. Once she dispatched the imposters, this land would be hers again.

Her victory was so close, she could taste it.