The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood 12) - Page 44

And she had a point.

“All right,” he said, feeling like a total reject. But she did have a right to know. “I’ve f**ked a lot of human females in the last ten years—and none of that mattered to me until tonight with you. And I think I’m about to condemn my parents to a torturous death. Other than that, I’m fine.”

Her brows rose. But she didn’t recoil; she didn’t run. There were a number of deep breaths, however. “Maybe we’ll just take the second half of that first. What on the Scribe Virgin’s Earth are you talking about?”

“It’s a f**king mess—I’m a mess.”

She waited, clearly expecting him to continue. “And you have told me nothing.”

Staring into her eyes, he felt such respect for her. “God … how is it possible that you exist?”

“Still not telling me a thing.” She smiled slowly. “Although I like the way you’re looking at me.”

Trez shook his head, knowing she deserved so much better than he could ever offer her. “You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.”

“That’s for me to decide. Now speak—if you’re so determined to put me off of you, then use your words to persuade me of your ugliness.”

“The sex life didn’t do it already?”

“I am trained as an ehros. It is my expectation that males have carried their seed far and wide.”

He narrowed his eyes: Her face had suddenly become impassive, and that was a serious-ass tell. “There’s one other thing.”

“Which is.”

“I’m promised to someone.”

She almost hid her wince. Almost. “Indeed.”

“Yeah. Indeed. And if I don’t show, my parents are going to get slaughtered.”

“So you are not in love?”

“I haven’t met her. And I don’t want to.”

Some of the tension left the Chosen. “You have no knowledge of her at all?”

“None. Except that she’s the queen’s daughter.”

Those incredible eyes got wider. “You are to be royalty, then.”

He thought of how much fun Wrath was having on his throne, and all the kicks and giggles Rehv was rocking as imperial head of the symphaths—and at least they were allowed out into the night. Well, kinda, in Wrath’s case.

His future was going to be all about the gilded cage.

“My parents sold me when I was very young,” he heard himself say. “I was never given a choice—and now? Unless I go back to the Territory, the pair of them aren’t going to live long.”

Selena’s head eased to the side, her mind clearly working. “There is no chance for negotiating?”

“None.”

“Can your parents not give the price paid back?”

He thought of his mother’s cynical smile that night he’d last seen her. “Even if they could, I don’t think they would.”

Her brows rose again. “Are you certain?”

“It would be consistent with them.”

“Have you not asked?”

“No, I haven’t. But it would involve going back to the s’Hisbe, and that’s not possible.”

“Is there not someone you could send on your behalf?”

He pictured iAm going into the Territory. The contract was specifically for Trez, so it wasn’t as if the high priest, or even s’Ex, could do a bait and switch. They could, however, take his brother hostage. Or worse.

And that would get Trez back.

“I don’t think so. My brother’s the only one, and I can’t risk that. I won’t risk him.”

“And you think your parents will be…”

“No, I know they’ll kill them.” He massaged the nape of his neck. “You know, so much of this is sad—but I think the worst of it is the fact that I can’t even pretend to be emotional about those two. It’s, like … they made a deal with the devil. If something bad happens, they’re just getting what’s coming to them.”

Unfortunately, however, regardless of what happened to his mother and father … the debt would still be owed.

Even if s’Ex carved them up into little bitty pieces, Trez would remain on the line for what they had contracted for.

What had been set in motion … could not be undone. And as he kept looking at Selena, he mourned that truth now more than ever.

Selena’s hands were shaking. Had been ever since Trez had said that he’d been with … exactly how many human women? she wondered.

Dearest Virgin Scribe, she didn’t even want to think about that.

She could, however, at least try to get her hands to stop trembling. As Trez fell silent, she splayed her fingers wide and flexed them, hoping that it would stop things before he saw through her calm facade: She had the very clear sense that if he became aware he’d upset her, he would never say another word … and this intimate space that had unexpectedly opened up between them was even more sacred than the sexual experience had promised to be.

“I did not have parents as such,” she said quietly. “But I cannot imagine having a young and … selling them.”

Trez nodded, his arm cocked high so that he could continue to rub the base of his neck. “I know, right? I mean, my parents did value me. The problem is, I was a commodity to them, something to be bartered. You expect that from car dealers and rug merchants and people who run supermarkets and malls. And listen, I wish I was one of those well-adjusted motherfuckers so I could be all like, ‘They didn’t want me, but I’m still of value, blah, blah, blah’—things haven’t worked out like that for me, though. In my head…” He made a circle at his temple. “I’m not anything. I’m not … anything.”

Suddenly, Selena wanted to weep. To stare across at this absolutely magnificent male … and know that in his heart, he saw nothing of what he was? It was a crime—a crime caused by the very people who should have cared most about him.

“Is that why you were with the humans?” she heard herself ask.

In the silence that followed, it was difficult to draw an even breath: She was frightened of his answer. For a whole lot of reasons.

“Yeah.” He cursed under his breath. “Like, you know, I was with this woman—right before I got the migraine.”

That was just the other night, she thought, wanting to cringe—

“And she was as empty as I was feeling. Just two hollow bodies clapping together. It didn’t mean anything, and that’s what I’ve been doing all these years. Physical exercise and that was it.”

Selena struggled for the right thing to say, something that was even-keeled and signaled that she was comfortable with what he was telling her … when in reality it was ripping her heart out. Even though it shouldn’t have.

She’d spent how much time with him? An hour? Two at the very most?

Impending death was making her reckless—

“I could save them,” he said, almost to himself. “If I sacrifice myself, I can save my mother and father.”

He shifted his head to the side sharply and a crack sounded out.

“Here,” she murmured, moving behind him. “Allow me.”

Pushing his hand out of the way, she gripped his iron-hard shoulders and squeezed as he had done, trying to work some ease into the muscle fibers. As she worked at him, his smooth skin slid over ropes of tension, but that was the only thing that seemed to be accomplished.

He groaned. “That feels amazing.”

“I don’t think I’m doing anything.”

His hands briefly covered her own. “You are. More than you know.”

Selena continued the massage and thought of her own past. “As I said, I didn’t have a proper mother and father. I was raised with and by my sisters. I was needed to further the traditions, but I cannot say I was ever wanted by anyone. Claimed, as it were. So, in a way, I can imagine how you feel—bred but not born, as it were, because born implies you were hoped for, prayed for.”

He leaned his head back and stared up at her. “Yeah. That’s exactly it.”

She smiled at him and pushed him back into position.

“If my parents are killed, I feel like I’m going to go to hell,” he muttered.

“But you can’t be culpable in this, because you never consented.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You were promised when you were incapable of giving consent—indeed, it sounds as though they never even asked you. Therefore, your failure to perform, and any consequences thereto? They are your parents’ to claim, not yours. This is about you and yet has nothing to do with you.”

“God…”

When he didn’t finish, she frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be presumptuous.”

“You’re not. You’re … perfect.”

“Hardly.”

“I want to do something for you.”

She stilled. “What?”

Because she had some ideas.

“Something worthwhile.”

She eyed the fur rug she had been stretched out on. Oh, it would be worthwhile …

“But I keep coming up with nothing.”

Selena sighed. “Your presence is plenty.”

Trez put his hands over hers again and pulled her forward so that she was draped over his back. Holding her there, he put his head against her own.

As he breathed in, his great torso expanding, she was lifted from the floor and brought back down. “Thank you,” he said in a voice that cracked.

“I have done nothing.”

“You’ve made me feel like I’m not evil. And tonight, that’s everything.”

“Oh, you are never that,” she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Not you, not ever.”

Closing her eyes, she held on to him, and found herself becoming connected with him at the soul level. To the point where she didn’t know how to leave him. Not just tonight, but … whenever her destiny finally claimed her.

“Have you eaten?” he asked after a while.

“Actually … no.” Her stomach rumbled. “And I am hungry.”

“Let’s go downstairs. My brother was making some of his sauce—or at least, I assume so. He does that every time I have a headache.”

Selena relinquished her hold and went to ease back—

Without warning, her spine rebelled, the vertebrae locking into their position. Trez, on the other hand, got up easily enough—and as he extended his palm to help her up, she could only stare at it.

As confusion played over his handsome features, she figured she might as well accept the help. At this point, she was incapable of lifting herself off the floor.

“Slowly,” she said gruffly. “Please?”

Trez frowned, but was gentle as he lifted her to her feet. “Are you all right?”

She bought herself some time by making a production of tying her robe together. Meanwhile, her joints were screaming, particularly her h*ps and back.

Forcing a smile onto her face, she tried not to get spooked. But this was how it had started for her sisters. Each one of them.

“Shall we?” she said with determination.

Trez’s almond-shaped eyes narrowed even further. But then he shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just pull on some clothes.”

“I’ll wait in the hall.”

Through will alone, she made it across the bedroom and out into the corridor. By the time she closed the door behind her, she was choked of breath—

Instantly, her body experienced an internal shift of incredible power. In a way that meant only one thing: Someone was in her needing.

The queen? she thought with astonishment as she looked to the vaulted entrance of the First Family’s private quarters.

Now that would be momentous.

Easing back against the wall, she thought of massaging Trez’s shoulders and wished there was an equivalent for her own body. There was none. No cure, no slowing the disease.

No telling how long she had left.

THIRTY-SIX

Beth had no choice but to give herself up to her body’s roaring demands. And the only respite she got? Every time Wrath released into her, there was a brief reprieve—before the grinding need started its ascent once again.

“Take my vein,” Wrath said roughly. “Take it…”

She didn’t even know whether she was on her back or her belly, what room she was in, what time it was. But the instant his throat came up to her mouth, she was crystal clear on the bite: Her fangs punched out and she used them hard, cranking down on Wrath’s flesh, breaking the surface and going deep, freeing up the other thing she needed from him.

Oh, the power of him. As her mouth was filled, she was struck once again by the incredible impact his blood had on her. With her strength flagging even as the needing raged on, and her body aching everywhere as if she’d been through a baler, she was nonetheless fortified from the very first draw, better able to continue—even though it wasn’t like she had a choice.

As she had to release his vein to suck some air in, she couldn’t believe she had volunteered for this. She must have been crazy, some stupid-ass romantic vision of having a baaaaaaaaby getting in the way of twelve kinds of reality.

Relocking on Wrath’s throat, he somehow managed to keep pumping even as she stayed on his vein, his erection going in and out, the deep digs and sharp removals resonating throughout her torso, her head rocking up and down, her h*ps absorbing his weight. Slick with sweat, their bodies moved together with such seamless communion, she didn’t know where hers left off and his began. he had a point.

“All right,” he said, feeling like a total reject. But she did have a right to know. “I’ve f**ked a lot of human females in the last ten years—and none of that mattered to me until tonight with you. And I think I’m about to condemn my parents to a torturous death. Other than that, I’m fine.”

Her brows rose. But she didn’t recoil; she didn’t run. There were a number of deep breaths, however. “Maybe we’ll just take the second half of that first. What on the Scribe Virgin’s Earth are you talking about?”

“It’s a f**king mess—I’m a mess.”

She waited, clearly expecting him to continue. “And you have told me nothing.”

Staring into her eyes, he felt such respect for her. “God … how is it possible that you exist?”

“Still not telling me a thing.” She smiled slowly. “Although I like the way you’re looking at me.”

Trez shook his head, knowing she deserved so much better than he could ever offer her. “You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.”

“That’s for me to decide. Now speak—if you’re so determined to put me off of you, then use your words to persuade me of your ugliness.”

“The sex life didn’t do it already?”

“I am trained as an ehros. It is my expectation that males have carried their seed far and wide.”

He narrowed his eyes: Her face had suddenly become impassive, and that was a serious-ass tell. “There’s one other thing.”

“Which is.”

“I’m promised to someone.”

She almost hid her wince. Almost. “Indeed.”

“Yeah. Indeed. And if I don’t show, my parents are going to get slaughtered.”

“So you are not in love?”

“I haven’t met her. And I don’t want to.”

Some of the tension left the Chosen. “You have no knowledge of her at all?”

“None. Except that she’s the queen’s daughter.”

Those incredible eyes got wider. “You are to be royalty, then.”

He thought of how much fun Wrath was having on his throne, and all the kicks and giggles Rehv was rocking as imperial head of the symphaths—and at least they were allowed out into the night. Well, kinda, in Wrath’s case.

His future was going to be all about the gilded cage.

“My parents sold me when I was very young,” he heard himself say. “I was never given a choice—and now? Unless I go back to the Territory, the pair of them aren’t going to live long.”

Selena’s head eased to the side, her mind clearly working. “There is no chance for negotiating?”

“None.”

“Can your parents not give the price paid back?”

He thought of his mother’s cynical smile that night he’d last seen her. “Even if they could, I don’t think they would.”

Her brows rose again. “Are you certain?”

“It would be consistent with them.”

“Have you not asked?”

“No, I haven’t. But it would involve going back to the s’Hisbe, and that’s not possible.”

“Is there not someone you could send on your behalf?”

He pictured iAm going into the Territory. The contract was specifically for Trez, so it wasn’t as if the high priest, or even s’Ex, could do a bait and switch. They could, however, take his brother hostage. Or worse.

And that would get Trez back.

“I don’t think so. My brother’s the only one, and I can’t risk that. I won’t risk him.”

“And you think your parents will be…”

“No, I know they’ll kill them.” He massaged the nape of his neck. “You know, so much of this is sad—but I think the worst of it is the fact that I can’t even pretend to be emotional about those two. It’s, like … they made a deal with the devil. If something bad happens, they’re just getting what’s coming to them.”

Unfortunately, however, regardless of what happened to his mother and father … the debt would still be owed.

Even if s’Ex carved them up into little bitty pieces, Trez would remain on the line for what they had contracted for.

What had been set in motion … could not be undone. And as he kept looking at Selena, he mourned that truth now more than ever.

Selena’s hands were shaking. Had been ever since Trez had said that he’d been with … exactly how many human women? she wondered.

Dearest Virgin Scribe, she didn’t even want to think about that.

She could, however, at least try to get her hands to stop trembling. As Trez fell silent, she splayed her fingers wide and flexed them, hoping that it would stop things before he saw through her calm facade: She had the very clear sense that if he became aware he’d upset her, he would never say another word … and this intimate space that had unexpectedly opened up between them was even more sacred than the sexual experience had promised to be.

“I did not have parents as such,” she said quietly. “But I cannot imagine having a young and … selling them.”

Trez nodded, his arm cocked high so that he could continue to rub the base of his neck. “I know, right? I mean, my parents did value me. The problem is, I was a commodity to them, something to be bartered. You expect that from car dealers and rug merchants and people who run supermarkets and malls. And listen, I wish I was one of those well-adjusted motherfuckers so I could be all like, ‘They didn’t want me, but I’m still of value, blah, blah, blah’—things haven’t worked out like that for me, though. In my head…” He made a circle at his temple. “I’m not anything. I’m not … anything.”

Suddenly, Selena wanted to weep. To stare across at this absolutely magnificent male … and know that in his heart, he saw nothing of what he was? It was a crime—a crime caused by the very people who should have cared most about him.

“Is that why you were with the humans?” she heard herself ask.

In the silence that followed, it was difficult to draw an even breath: She was frightened of his answer. For a whole lot of reasons.

“Yeah.” He cursed under his breath. “Like, you know, I was with this woman—right before I got the migraine.”

That was just the other night, she thought, wanting to cringe—

“And she was as empty as I was feeling. Just two hollow bodies clapping together. It didn’t mean anything, and that’s what I’ve been doing all these years. Physical exercise and that was it.”

Selena struggled for the right thing to say, something that was even-keeled and signaled that she was comfortable with what he was telling her … when in reality it was ripping her heart out. Even though it shouldn’t have.

She’d spent how much time with him? An hour? Two at the very most?

Impending death was making her reckless—

“I could save them,” he said, almost to himself. “If I sacrifice myself, I can save my mother and father.”

He shifted his head to the side sharply and a crack sounded out.

“Here,” she murmured, moving behind him. “Allow me.”

Pushing his hand out of the way, she gripped his iron-hard shoulders and squeezed as he had done, trying to work some ease into the muscle fibers. As she worked at him, his smooth skin slid over ropes of tension, but that was the only thing that seemed to be accomplished.

He groaned. “That feels amazing.”

“I don’t think I’m doing anything.”

His hands briefly covered her own. “You are. More than you know.”

Selena continued the massage and thought of her own past. “As I said, I didn’t have a proper mother and father. I was raised with and by my sisters. I was needed to further the traditions, but I cannot say I was ever wanted by anyone. Claimed, as it were. So, in a way, I can imagine how you feel—bred but not born, as it were, because born implies you were hoped for, prayed for.”

He leaned his head back and stared up at her. “Yeah. That’s exactly it.”

She smiled at him and pushed him back into position.

“If my parents are killed, I feel like I’m going to go to hell,” he muttered.

“But you can’t be culpable in this, because you never consented.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You were promised when you were incapable of giving consent—indeed, it sounds as though they never even asked you. Therefore, your failure to perform, and any consequences thereto? They are your parents’ to claim, not yours. This is about you and yet has nothing to do with you.”

“God…”

When he didn’t finish, she frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be presumptuous.”

“You’re not. You’re … perfect.”

“Hardly.”

“I want to do something for you.”

She stilled. “What?”

Because she had some ideas.

“Something worthwhile.”

She eyed the fur rug she had been stretched out on. Oh, it would be worthwhile …

“But I keep coming up with nothing.”

Selena sighed. “Your presence is plenty.”

Trez put his hands over hers again and pulled her forward so that she was draped over his back. Holding her there, he put his head against her own.

As he breathed in, his great torso expanding, she was lifted from the floor and brought back down. “Thank you,” he said in a voice that cracked.

“I have done nothing.”

“You’ve made me feel like I’m not evil. And tonight, that’s everything.”

“Oh, you are never that,” she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Not you, not ever.”

Closing her eyes, she held on to him, and found herself becoming connected with him at the soul level. To the point where she didn’t know how to leave him. Not just tonight, but … whenever her destiny finally claimed her.

“Have you eaten?” he asked after a while.

“Actually … no.” Her stomach rumbled. “And I am hungry.”

“Let’s go downstairs. My brother was making some of his sauce—or at least, I assume so. He does that every time I have a headache.”

Selena relinquished her hold and went to ease back—

Without warning, her spine rebelled, the vertebrae locking into their position. Trez, on the other hand, got up easily enough—and as he extended his palm to help her up, she could only stare at it.

As confusion played over his handsome features, she figured she might as well accept the help. At this point, she was incapable of lifting herself off the floor.

“Slowly,” she said gruffly. “Please?”

Trez frowned, but was gentle as he lifted her to her feet. “Are you all right?”

She bought herself some time by making a production of tying her robe together. Meanwhile, her joints were screaming, particularly her h*ps and back.

Forcing a smile onto her face, she tried not to get spooked. But this was how it had started for her sisters. Each one of them.

“Shall we?” she said with determination.

Trez’s almond-shaped eyes narrowed even further. But then he shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just pull on some clothes.”

“I’ll wait in the hall.”

Through will alone, she made it across the bedroom and out into the corridor. By the time she closed the door behind her, she was choked of breath—

Instantly, her body experienced an internal shift of incredible power. In a way that meant only one thing: Someone was in her needing.

The queen? she thought with astonishment as she looked to the vaulted entrance of the First Family’s private quarters.

Now that would be momentous.

Easing back against the wall, she thought of massaging Trez’s shoulders and wished there was an equivalent for her own body. There was none. No cure, no slowing the disease.

No telling how long she had left.

THIRTY-SIX

Beth had no choice but to give herself up to her body’s roaring demands. And the only respite she got? Every time Wrath released into her, there was a brief reprieve—before the grinding need started its ascent once again.

“Take my vein,” Wrath said roughly. “Take it…”

She didn’t even know whether she was on her back or her belly, what room she was in, what time it was. But the instant his throat came up to her mouth, she was crystal clear on the bite: Her fangs punched out and she used them hard, cranking down on Wrath’s flesh, breaking the surface and going deep, freeing up the other thing she needed from him.

Oh, the power of him. As her mouth was filled, she was struck once again by the incredible impact his blood had on her. With her strength flagging even as the needing raged on, and her body aching everywhere as if she’d been through a baler, she was nonetheless fortified from the very first draw, better able to continue—even though it wasn’t like she had a choice.

As she had to release his vein to suck some air in, she couldn’t believe she had volunteered for this. She must have been crazy, some stupid-ass romantic vision of having a baaaaaaaaby getting in the way of twelve kinds of reality.

Relocking on Wrath’s throat, he somehow managed to keep pumping even as she stayed on his vein, his erection going in and out, the deep digs and sharp removals resonating throughout her torso, her head rocking up and down, her h*ps absorbing his weight. Slick with sweat, their bodies moved together with such seamless communion, she didn’t know where hers left off and his began.

Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy
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