Chapter 108 Queen’s Pawn
❦ Nikolai ❦
Walking away from a perfect opportunity to torture pained me physically.
The wolf, Bastian, had been unconscious for two days. I’d been unconscious for one.
During his capture, the edge of the Crimson blade had nicked my skin. I’d fallen under its toxins just as any other.
I’d awoken the second day, groggy and weak, my head within arm’s reach of the mutt.
Fortunately, he’d been out of it. I had no doubt that if he’d gained consciousness before me, he’d have taken my head.
I slammed the dungeon doors, tracing immediately to escape the fumes of the dragon rose I’d sprayed on him.
The scent of the burned petals would mask his scent, keeping him undetectable by my bride.
He’d wanted torture? He would have it.
He’d be able to scent the object of his obsession through the very stone of the castle. And she would be none the wiser.
I clenched my fist to stop myself from lashing out. From doing something uncontrollable, like pulverizing the wall.
Drusilla was by the bar of her moon room as usual. Her dress was tented in front, pregnancy so far along she would birth any time now.
She turned, studying me with too-knowing eyes.
“The wolf?”
“Still unconscious,” I responded gruffly.
I paced the viewing room.
“From just a stab of the Crimson blade?” She sounded mocking.
I would have found it funny if I hadn’t slept half the time from just a scratch.
“We underestimated it. It’s powerful.”
Since gifting it to my bride, I was sure this was the first time of its use, which meant the poisons infused in the blade were still fresh and potent.
Drusilla regarded me over the rim of her glass. “I’m surprised you let him live.”
“You advised me to keep him alive,” I snapped.
The air suddenly turned heavy. My chest constricted.
I bowed to a painful cough. I raised the hand I’d coughed into, it was coated with blood.
“You forget your place,” she said, as easily as asking the weather.
“I’m under a lot of pressure,” I bit out. “How am I expected to accept this?”
“You’ll figure it out, I’m sure. Your dear Queen Maeve wouldn’t be the first, you know.”
“The first to what?”
I flexed my neck when Drusilla released me. As my sire, she could concentrate her magic and make me feel pain, meting out punishment as long as we were connected by blood.
“Erica de Carmen II had also been blessed with two males. Only, hers were both vampires.” She sipped from her glass. “You are more fortunate.”
Bile rose in my throat.
Fortunate to share my bride? My queen?
To a wolf boy with no teeth who took four months to reach her—only with help?
“How is this fortunate?” I tried to control my anger. “You wouldn’t understand the impossibility. You’ve never found your mate.”
Drusilla’s eyes flashed. And I knew I’d hit a nerve. Even as Crimson queens could take any male into their bed, Drusilla had always coveted one of her own to love.
“If it is so impossible, then cut out the threat,” she drawled. “Kill the wolf.”
Her smirk was self-satisfied.
I bristled.
“She would never forgive me.”
“As she shouldn’t. The wolf is our only lead on the inside of the IronWolf pack. We need him to destroy the amulet. As you well know, Maeve will never be accepted back there.” Drusilla locked eyes with me. “Use your head. If you want her happy and alive, the wolf stays.”
Scowling, I traced to my home office.
I loved my bride too much to destroy even a single lead that could save her life.
While she was queen, the Crimson stone would keep torturing my bride until Lyssa’s essence was destroyed.
In the same vein, a smile curved my lips.
I had an ace up my sleeve. I’d found a solution to one of the threats to her life.
As I pulled open the hidden safe in my office, the mechanism made a subtle click.
I palmed the cold potion in my hands. The temperature never changed. Dew clung to the glass, mist swirling within.
The wardens had sworn this would protect us both from the curse of wrath.
With this, my bride could mark me safely—awakening her vampire side and strengthening her wolf side.
Anxious to see her, to experience another drag of her intoxicating scent, I traced to her rooms at the castle.
As soon as she came into view, I staggered, my blood pumping wildly.
I hadn’t seen her since the night of her coronation.
My bride. My queen.
She turned only her face, as if in slow motion, her maids gaping at me like they’d just seen a ghost.
Platinum hair swept over her shoulder to her front, her slim back left exposed.
She was in the middle of dressing, standing in only a sheer silk skirt. Naked from the waist up.
“Leave us.” Her voice rang out.
The maids scattered. They set right the few items they could, picking up baskets of fabric and feminine tools. One by one, they filed out, bowing as they passed me.
All the while, blood rushed to my shaft.
The sight of her dewy skin would always undo me.
The scent of her jasmine. The soft, dark notes of her blood…
Then she turned completely, facing me.
My jaw dropped.
Her full, lush hair covered one breast. The other was exposed.
“Where were you?” she demanded, lips pouty, voice contrite.
My pulse raged.
My gaze locked on her vein, pumping sensually beneath the skin of her neck.
And all I could think, aside from the wolf locked several floors beneath us, was where I would like to be…
Buried in her soft flesh.
When I advanced, she didn’t flinch—