by Bella Klaus
“What?”
“I haven’t finished.”
Valentine stiffened. “There’s more?”
“The Council doesn’t care about the breach of the Supernatural Secrecy Act. This imprisonment is a ruse, because they’re frightened of your power.”
He didn’t speak for several heartbeats, letting the roar of the shower fill the silence. My throat dried, and I raised my gaze from the floor to meet Valentine’s face. His jaw tightened, as did his lips, but his eyes became unfocused, as though he’d withdrawn into himself.
An ache formed in my heart, which spread down to my tightening chest. It was impossible to imagine what it felt like to work with a group of people for centuries and discover they regarded you with mistrust. Hades, I could understand—lies and betrayal were part of the job description for the Demon King—but the others? I clung to Valentine, offering him my support.
“That’s what they said?” he asked.
“It’s what they heavily implied.” I squeezed tighter. “When I challenged them, they signed some stupid contract, saying that they’d clear you of all suspicion if you killed Kresnik.”
“And if I fail?”
I shook my head. “Then they’d be hypocrites, considering that none of them except Beowulf is willing to meet Kresnik in battle.”
Valentine drew back and straightened, inhaling a long breath through flared nostrils. I stepped back, studying his features for a reaction, but his jaw remained as clenched as his lips. As he ran both hands through his hair, he stared down at me with an intensity that quickened my pulse.
I slid a hand over his heart. “Sorry to shake your faith in those people—”
“Never apologize for being loyal,” he said. “What did the Witch Queen say?”
“Nothing much.” I raised a shoulder. “She seemed to go along with everything and didn’t raise any objections.”
“Because her priorities lie with protecting Striga,” Valentine replied, his voice bitter. “And Beowulf?”
“He was on your side a hundred percent, and said their methods for dealing with Kresnik and you were bullshit.”
Valentine nodded. “I expected no less from such a steadfast friend.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Have you seen the way he treats women?”
“Like he’s the alpha and they exist to serve him?” He raised his brows.
“Pretty much,” I muttered.
“You should have seen the way the Shifter Queen from last century treated males.” He smoothed the hair off my face, tucking the wet strands behind my ear.
I rolled my eyes. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to bring up Lydia’s plight. Our enemies seemed to increase with each passing hour, and the dire fate of Great Britain was worsening the longer we allowed Kresnik to brainwash the humans, but I wouldn’t forget the downtrodden young woman I’d met in the hideout.
“Loyalty means everything to me.” Valentine pressed a kiss on my temple, my cheekbone, and my jaw. His kisses continued down the column of my neck, and one of his large hands cupped my breast. “I’d like to show you how much I appreciate my beautiful and devoted mate.”
Heat gathered between my legs. I pressed my thighs together and tried giving him a firm shove, but it was like trying to shift a tree. “Valentine,” I hissed. “You’re forgetting why I came.”
“Not yet.” His deep chuckle made my cheeks burn. I’d just made an innuendo.
Each press of Valentine’s lips burned me hotter than the shower. I bit down on my bottom lip, squeezing my eyes shut, and leaned against the wall tiles.
Maybe I’d rushed my explanation and had failed to communicate to Valentine the importance of this prison break. As much as I enjoyed his attention, I couldn’t stand here letting him distract me when we needed to finalize a way to end Kresnik.
“Wait.” My voice shook. “There’s so much we need to do—”
“Let me give you pleasure,” he moaned as he engulfed my nipple in his hot mouth.
I clenched my teeth. Why did he have to use that combination of words and voice on me when I was already weak to his charm?
He licked and sucked and flicked his tongue over the sensitive peak, sending bolts of pleasure straight to my core. I breathed hard, rocking forward with each exhale, and clutched at his shoulders.
We had to stop this. Right now, before my resolve melted and we spent the rest of the morning making love while Valentine’s enemies plotted against him and the world burned under the fires of Kresnik.
“Valentine,” I whispered.
“It won’t take long.”
As his fingers trailed down my belly and settled between my legs, every thought of resisting Valentine slid down the drain.
He was cheating, but I no longer cared. Valentine released my nipple with a pop and kissed a hungry path to my clit. I arched my back, shuddering with anticipation, and parted my thighs.
“You look good enough to eat.” His tongue darted out to meet my pulsing clit, making my legs tremble.
My knees buckled together, and I clung to the sides of his head. “If you keep doing that, I’ll collapse.”
“Then I’d better make you comfortable.” Valentine positioned me in the corner, hooking my left thigh over his shoulder.
I braced my palms against the wall as he raised my right leg into position, so my back lay braced against the ceramic tiles with the bulk of my weight resting on his body.
“Better?” he asked.
“Ummm… Yes?”
He drew back a few inches, letting me slide down with my hips angled toward his face. My breath quickened into feverish pants. He was really doing this—going down on me in a prison shower.
His tongue flicked out again, this time making a slow ascent from the base of my clit until it reached the peak. My entire skull pounded, and blood roared between my ears. At that moment, I felt every taste bud of Valentine’s tongue sliding over my pulsing bundle of nerves.
“That feels so good,” I said with a whimper.
His tongue slid down the other side of my clit and swirled around it at a mind-bendingly languid pace. “You want more?”
“More than anything.”
He swiped his tongue down the entire length of my slit, settling at my hungry opening, where he slid inside me with an intensity that made white stars explode behind my eyes.
I screamed, my thighs clamping around his head, and threaded my fingers into his hair.
Valentine chuckled. “Innamorata, relax.”
“How can I when you keep doing things like that?” I said through panting breaths.
He slid his tongue out of my core, taking mercy on me for a moment before the clever organ returned to my clit. With the most delicate strokes, he glided over my clit, my folds, and circled my opening, building me up to the point where I longed for more.
Bucking my hips, I signaled for him to go faster, harder, but he took control of my pleasure, running his tongue up and down my clit with slow and even licks.
“I love feeling you fall apart at my touch,” he murmured, flicking his tongue over my nub.
“Valentine,” I moaned, unable to form sentences.
His strokes quickened, sending lightning bolts of ecstasy down my thighs, up my belly, and into my core. I jerked and spasmed as though electrocuted by the pleasure building and building, making me thrash against the ceramic tiles, wondering if this was the day I finally exploded under his touch.
Valentine’s relentless tongue kept me weak and groaning and panting, helpless to do anything but submit. I was lost. Lost in the sensations, lost in rapture, lost in the beat of the water against my skin, the vibrations of his pleasured moans, and in the heat of his breath.
Just as I thought I might faint from the onslaught, a blunt fingertip circled my entrance with a jolt of pleasure that made my core muscles clench.
“Please,” I moaned, needing it, wanting it, hungering for more.
Valentine’s middle finger slid inside me, accompanied by his index,
breaching my clamping walls with the most delicious stretch.
My muscles clamped hard around his digits, but he scissored them, easing me open. As he continued lathing my clit and driving me to distraction, I pulsed and fluttered around his fingers, eager for them to move.
The pressure inside me mounted, and my limbs trembled with the most delicious shudders. “Valentine,” I moaned, threading my fingers through his hair and gripping those thick wet locks hard enough to hurt. “Please…”
He moaned against my folds and pulled his fingers out, making me jerk my hips. I clutched at his shoulders, biting down on my bottom lip against the deluge of sensation. Valentine pumped in and out of me with those deliciously thick fingers with a rhythm that made my eyes roll to the back of my head.
Tilting my head toward the hot spray, I moaned his name over and over. Water splattered over my face, my chest, my hair, but it was nothing compared to the push and pull of ecstasy building up in my core.
Valentine kept me teetering on the tightrope of pleasure, his lips clamping around my sex in a hot, open-mouthed kiss that spread a tingle from my curling toes to my tight nipples.
I thrashed against his eager tongue, needing more. “Bite me.”
His low growl caused my pleasure to mount. Before I could even gasp, his fangs sank into my thigh, sending a spike of sensation through my core. For a moment, my body clenched as the intensity of the orgasm tore through my insides. Then with a shocked breath, my muscles loosened, releasing wave after wave of rapture.
My lips parted with a harsh cry, and I clung onto Valentine with my full strength. His thick fingers pistoned in and out of me, drawing out my climax and teasing every ounce of ecstasy from my body.
I clung to his shoulders, breathing hard, my legs trembling from the aftershocks of the climax. “That was intense.”
He eased his fangs out from my thigh with a pleasured groan. “I can never get enough of your taste.”
I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Let me stay here for a few minutes, then I’ll return the favor.”
“No need.” Valentine kissed the inside of my thigh.
“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice still breathy from climaxing.
“Do you know what your blood does to me, Innamorata?” Valentine held a steadying hand around my waist and eased my left leg off his shoulder.
I shook my head, trying to clear my post-orgasmic haze, and pulled back my right. “Why do you drink it, knowing that it has the power to turn you into a preternatural?”
“Nobody knows what I am anymore.” He rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into his broad chest. “My heart beats, and I no longer need large quantities of blood, but I have all the powers of a preternatural vampire without any vulnerability to the sun.”
Even though what had happened to him was Kresnik’s fault, part of me still ached for Valentine. Would he have been the target of the blood lure curse if he hadn’t fallen for me? Thoughts like that had to have plagued his mind.
I tilted my head up, trying to see what lay behind his dark gaze. “Do you regret it?”
Valentine hesitated for a few heartbeats before answering. “Your blood gave us a second chance. For that, I will always be grateful. What I don’t appreciate is being used as a tool by Kresnik.”
“Will you kiss me now?” I asked.
Valentine took my hand and walked me out of the shower, where two fluffy dressing gowns hung on hooks. After drying ourselves off, we walked into the main prison room and dressed.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
“I won’t have you sitting here waiting for Kresnik to descend.”
Valentine lowered his lips to mine.
I raised my hand. “There’s something I forgot.” His brows furrowed, and I added, “The ring.”
A blink of an eye later, he returned with the item suspended from a gold chain. Instead of putting it around my neck, he placed it around his own. “Use it in case you need to reach me.”
Nodding, I raised myself on my tiptoes and placed my lips on Valentine’s. They were soft and full and… Light flashed behind my eyes, accompanied by the tingling of faerie magic.
As soon as the sensations faded, I found myself bending my neck to kiss a pair of thinner lips.
“Valentine?” My deep voice made me flinch, and I stared down at…
I had to blink a few times to make sure that the water from the shower wasn’t affecting my vision. The person standing in front of my new body and staring up at me with crystalline blue eyes had to be me. But she wasn’t.
She was me, but through a different lens. The only way to describe it was like using an app that evened out the features, smoothed out the skin, brought out the hue of the eyes, and made the hair color more vibrant.
At first, I thought it was the radiance of Valentine’s soul shining through that enhanced my body’s looks, but I glanced around the room to find everything looking more vivid.
An array of scents assaulted my nostrils at once. The cloying fragrances of the bouquet, the chocolate liqueurs, as well as the remnants of raindrops still drifting in from our shower. Beneath the deluge was a delicate aroma that called to my soul like a siren’s cry. It was peaches and pumpkins and papayas—sweet, fresh, and utterly delicious.
My nostrils flared, an ache formed on the gums around my incisors, and saliva flooded my mouth. “What’s that smell?”
“One of the benefits of corpusverto is that you take on the other person’s senses.” Valentine’s small hands slid over my shoulders and let his eyes flutter shut. “I feel the magic coursing through the room.”
A pulse of arousal shot to my groin, awakening my organ. I wrapped my arms around his smaller body, holding him close. Blood and adrenaline coursed through my system, gathering into my lengthening, thickening erection.
Everything around me—scents, colors, even the notion of a prison break vanished—replaced by the urge to see if the creature pressed against me tasted as good as she smelled.
Valentine smiled. “Feel the effect you have on me, Innamorata?”
I shook my head, my tongue sliding over a retracted fang. “Do you always want to consume me?”
“All the time.” His eyes hardened, and strands of flame-red hair caressed his porcelain cheek. “It’s a testament to your strength that I didn’t lose control and kill you while I was a preternatural.”
As he stepped away from me, my heart lurched, and every instinct screamed that Valentine belonged to me—he was mine. I stepped forward, wanting to pull him close, but he disappeared to the other side of the room.
“Where are you going?” I snapped.
He raised a little palm. “Let’s not get too excited until you learn how to operate the body of a vampire.”
With his scent no longer clouding my judgement, I also stepped back and frowned, not quite believing that switching bodies had turned me into someone so possessive. “You’d better go before I start craving more than your blood.”
As Valentine walked to the door, his steady heartbeat pulsing through my arousal and his red hair waving at me like a flag, I finally understood what it felt like to be a predator.
He pulled down the handle, stepped out into the hallway, where one of the guards from before awaited, and blew me a kiss.
I raised a hand, my heart aching at his absence. Something about that body called to mine. Maybe it was attraction or a soul connection. Whatever it was between us couldn’t be ignored. I walked to the other side of the room, sank onto the sofa, and searched for the remote control.
A menu appeared on the screen, offering an array of entertainment options—movies, TV shows, items from the Hatch, but no Supernet and no human television.
“Damnit.” I tapped my pocket, realizing I’d forgotten to take my phone.
The door opened, and the small guard from before slipped inside with a hand behind his back. He grinned, revealing a mouthful of gapped teeth.
My brows drew together. His companion had called him Lieutenant Cien, but wasn’t he supposed to knock before entering?
“Good shag, Your Majesty?” he asked in a voice as oily as rancid butter.
I rose off my seat and fixed the pathetic little man with a venomous glare. “Who dares interrupt me?”
Cien raised his hand, revealing a small device that filled the room with red light. I tried lurching forward but got caught in the forensic magic that made it impossible to move.
“I have a message from Prince Draconius.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white blade. “He wants you to prepare to die.”
Chapter Seventeen
The dial on my heart rate notched up to eleven, and I clenched my teeth, using all of Valentine’s vampire strength to break free of the enchantment, but it wouldn’t budge.
Cien advanced on me with tentative steps, wielding the dagger in front of him like a shield. Its ivory handle and near-transparent blade could mean only one thing—it was made of solid flame—the exact type of weapon that Valentine had used to commit suicide.
Rage coursed through my veins, burning much cooler than my usual hot fury. It made sense considering a vampire’s body wasn’t naturally attuned to fire.
“Don’t look at me like that, Your Majesty,” Cien said in that oily voice. “Prince Draconius said a scratch would be enough to do the job. You’ll heal, leave a pristine corpse, and in a few hours, you’ll rise from the dead.”
So that was his plan. To render Valentine preternatural again so he could charge in as the hero and gain favor with New Mesopotamia and the Supernatural Council?
A tight fist squeezed my heart, making my chest constrict. Did Prince Draconius also arrange an assassin for me? Valentine would be defenseless without his vampire strength.
Magic spun around my chakras, ready to burst out into my meridians to lash out at the cowardly assassin. He had to use forensic magic to hold down Valentine’s vampire strength. I forced my power down, waiting for him to get close enough to strike.
