As I transformed back into my normal shape, I pulled a shred of tendon out of my teeth. Leaning down at the edge of the lake, I rinsed my mouth and washed my face—and then stood to begin my next hunt.

I was nowhere near satiated, but the pretty man would hold me for a while. Laughing, I raised my arms to the sky, reveling in the fall of snow, and sauntered away, my belly full for the moment. But there was more blood out there, calling my name, and the thrill of the kill never grew weary.

Blinking, I found myself back in the moment, sucking on Lannan’s wrist. The blood made me feel stronger, and I could feel my powers returning, my body healing. Once again, he’d saved my life, and now…

“You always thought you were the master,” I whispered, rolling him over and climbing atop him. “You wanted me, you’re going to get me, but on my rules, do you understand?”

He laughed, low and dangerously. “You think so, little girl?”

“I know so.” I plunged down on his cock, driving him into me. The chill of his flesh penetrated me, spreading through my body like a lacework of frost spreading across the window. I leaned my head back, groaning as he filled me full, driving deep into my core. As I began to move against him, he grabbed my waist and rolled me over, grinding full into me.

“I’ll show you who’s your master, girl.”

And with that, he thrust against me, impaling me on his icy, cold length. I closed my eyes, spiraling into the frenzy, wanting every inch to fill me up, to take me down, to throw me into the flames that were burning my body.

As he fucked me raw, my wolf began to howl. I reached out, stroked him, brought him into the fold as Lannan leaned down and bit my nipple, piercing it. The pain became pleasure and the pleasure became ecstasy as he licked up the thin trickle of blood dripping down my chest.

“I had to taste you,” he whispered, pinning me down with his weight. “I can’t drink much from you, but I had to taste a few drops. My sweet Cicely…I told you this would happen.”

He pulled out, flipping me over. “I’m not done yet, and neither are you.” He drove into me from behind, deep into my pussy as I rested on all fours. “I asked you once if your fair prince has ever fucked you in wolf form. Answer me, tell me…” His words were strained but the command was evident, and in my state, I was in no space to deny him.

“No, no…never…I wouldn’t do that…” I let out a low moan as he reached around and began to stroke my clit. The energy was so thick I could barely breathe, and I began to spiral down into the abyss, falling deep, spiraling into the pit of flames as he continued to work me.

“My name. Scream my name. I want to hear you beg for release. I want to hear you beg me, on your knees like this, my cock shoved so far up your cunt that you’ll never forget I was in you. Every time you sleep with your Wounded King, you’ll remember this, and you’ll burn for me.”

I was close, so close, the fever burned so brilliantly that I felt like the phoenix, consumed by her own flames as they danced around me. And then, as I neared the pinnacle, Lannan leaned down and bit my shoulder blade, viciously, and his fangs drove deep into me.

The pain mingled with orgasm as I came, so hard I wavered, almost passing out. And as the fever roared in my ears, I heard myself screaming.

“Lannan, fuck me, fuck me…never stop…don’t stop…” And then, poised on the edge, I swan-dived into the darkness, and the flames crackled as I fell so deep and so far that I didn’t know if I’d ever return.

Chapter 18

I opened my eyes, unsure where I was. Every inch of my body ached, and at first, I couldn’t remember why, and then I looked around and realized where I was.

Oh motherfucking hell. No, no…it wasn’t real…

But as I pushed back the covers and saw the healing scars on my leg, I knew that I hadn’t imagined anything. The wounds were raked into my skin, scabbing over, and there didn’t seem to be any infection. The muscles had knit quickly, but my leg was stiff and sore. I tried to focus on the mundane, tried to ignore what I knew I’d have to face sooner or later, because the longer I put it off, the longer I could avoid facing the ramifications of what had happened.

Images kept breaking through—Lannan’s face, the feel of him holding me down, the feel of…I moaned, grabbing a pillow and hiding my face in it. What the hell was I going to do now? And now, would he ever leave me alone? And how would I face Grieve? In the cold light of day…Well—I wasn’t sure if it was morning or not, but now that I was out of the grip of the Blood Fever, I could think clearly, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Then another horrifying thought hit: While I was pretty sure they’d collected Crawl, Geoffrey and Leo were still on the loose. That much I was certain I remembered correctly.

And if they were loose, Rhiannon and I were still in danger.

I looked around, trying to find a clock. There were no windows here, but then again, neither was Lannan anywhere to be seen, and I wasn’t sure whether he slept here. I doubted it—too vulnerable for a vampire to sleep where anybody could walk in on him. No, he had to have some secret lair. This was just where he brought his bloodwhores…and his conquests.

Again, a shudder ran through me. My wolf whimpered with a mournful, lonely yip. I reached down, unsure whether to make contact, but I had no choice. I pressed my hand against the tattoo and gently whispered, “I’m so sorry, my love. I would have done anything to avoid what happened, but happen it did and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

My wolf paused, snarled a moment, then another whimper, and I felt a wave of sadness and love pour through. I hung my head, but then I paused, looking at my leg once more. Lannan had saved my life yet again. I would have bled out; I would have died without his blood. What had happened was infinitely better than the alternative, and Grieve had to understand that.

I examined my heart. How did I feel about Lannan? Searching deep, looking for honesty, I examined my feelings. What did I feel for him after our night together?

Vague images floated through my mind: our bodies moving in rhythm, my sweat covering both of us, the cold feel of his hands on my body…the passion was strong and undeniable, but my heart felt untouched. The Blood Fever had left me connected to Lannan but not tied like before. Something had shifted, and I had the feeling it had everything to do with my heartstone.

I slowly stood, testing my leg. The gashes were going to leave nasty scars; there was no help for that. At least they had closed, and Lannan’s blood had saved my life. When they healed, I’d have tattoos inked over them. A rite of passage, acknowledging my ascension to the throne of Winter, perhaps.

My clothes weren’t on the bed, so I crossed to the door and paused. I wasn’t ashamed of my body, but the idea of stepping out of the room, buck naked, with still-healing scars? Not such a good idea, especially if it was still night and the vamps were out to play.

I looked around the room, hoping that Lannan might have stashed a spare robe. There was a closet over by the dresser—I hadn’t noticed much in the way of furnishings the night before. But now I could see that the antiques here were well maintained, highly polished, and carefully oiled. No clock that I could see. But a dresser, dressing table, armoire, coatrack—and there I saw a hanger with a delicately embroidered robe on it.

The robe was blue, and an owl was emblazoned on the back. Lannan had left it for me. I slipped it off the hanger and put it on, tying it with the belt. A pair of silk panties were hanging next to it, but I had no intention of accepting underwear from Lannan. I left them hanging there and headed toward the door.

As I opened the door, the scurry of activity and the sight of housekeepers polishing the grand foyer told me that it was most likely daylight. Regina and Lannan chose not to be bothered with things like that when they were awake. I caught the eye of one of the maids, and she hurried over to me.

“Your Majesty—you’re awake. The Master told me that when you are ready, I’m to offer you a bath, and the Emissary has left you new clothes. Your friends are waiting in the other chamber for you. What do you wish to do?” She flushed, as if she realized her words had come in a long spurt with no breath separating her sentences.

I thought for a moment. Though I wanted to see the others now, perhaps it wasn’t the best plan to show up in a robe. A robe that Lannan had given me, no less. The clothes would probably have Regina’s style all over them, but they’d be from the Emissary, not from my vampire nemesis-turned-lover.

“I’ll take a shower and then dress. Would you let my friends know I’m all right and that I’m getting ready?” I glanced around the hall, finding the grandfather clock. It was ten A.M., and the clock let out a series of ten chimes. “It’s morning, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. You’ve been asleep most of the night. The Master ordered you left undisturbed till you woke. He said you needed your sleep. Please, wait in the room for a moment and I’ll be back to draw your bath. I’ll go speak to your friends.”

“If Rhiannon—Her Majesty the Summer Queen—is there, please ask her to return with you. Luna and Peyton, too.” I turned back to the room and, fidgety now, sat on the bed, waiting. There was a bookcase of old books against the wall, and I glanced through the titles, but they were mostly sex books, history books, and coffee table tomes, heavy and filled with pictures. I took one off the shelf, but after flipping through a few pages of pinup models and tattooed wenches, I realized that I couldn’t focus.

Everything that had happened was still so fresh in my mind, and yet still a blur of sensation and passion and drive. My thighs ached and I slid the robe back, looking down to find bruises on them from where I’d straddled Lannan, from where he’d thrust between them, driving himself deeper and deeper into me. Closing my eyes, I realized that I couldn’t let Grieve see them. He’d know they weren’t from Crawl. He knew Lannan had fucked me—there was no getting past that one—but I didn’t have to throw it in his face.

A moment later, the maid returned. She motioned for me to follow her through a door to the right, near the bed. As we crossed the threshold, I was surprised to find a massive bath, tiled in a pale white with splashes of black. The room was huge, with a built-in vanity, a linen closet, and a separately partitioned toilet—for human guests and bloodwhores, since vampires didn’t need them. In the center of the room, on a platform, sat a huge spa tub. All thoughts of a shower went down the drain.

“Can I take a bubble bath?” I turned to the maid, wanting nothing more than to drown myself in hot water.

She nodded. “Of course, Your Highness. Your cousin, the Summer Queen, will be here in a moment. One of our female guards is accompanying her, leaving nothing to chance.”

I sat on the bench as the maid began to fill the tub. She offered me a variety of scents with which to stir up the bubbles. I chose a lightly scented vanilla, and as the water frothed up a lather, I slipped out of the robe and draped it over a chair. There was a full-length mirror against one wall and, as the water burbled away, I examined myself.

The gashes on my legs, scabbed over though they might be, were hideous. They were long and thick, and there were five of them—one for each one of Crawl’s talons on the hand that had managed to get ahold of me. The scabs would heal and fall off, but I had the feeling that I’d be marked forever.

The bruising on my thighs was fairly evident, but it was less disconcerting than the fang marks on my breast. Lannan hadn’t drunk from me per se, but he’d bit me and nibbled, and the marks were there, a reminder of the fierceness of the night. While there were various other bumps and bruises from the fight in the underground passage, nothing else I could find marked me as Lannan’s play toy.

Hell, who are you kidding? He was your play toy, too. Blood Fever or not, you remember the night, and you remember the hunger you felt.

Shaking the thought away, I stepped into the tub, wincing as the hot water welcomed me in. I settled into the mound of bubbles and leaned back, letting the warmth of the water wash into my sore muscles, over the scabs on my legs.

I was just closing my eyes when a soft knock at the door brought the maid to her feet from where she was sitting at the vanity table.

She answered the door and escorted Rhia in. Rhiannon was dressed in jeans, which was startling in itself, and a brown leather jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid, and there was something about her expression that left me sad. There was something missing from her eyes—an innocence. The frightened, haunted look that had both been tragic and made her the woman she was had vanished, and now fire filled her eyes.

She rushed over to me, kneeling by the tub, and took my chin in her hand. I leveled my gaze with hers, holding nothing back. We were cousins; we had no secrets other than where our heartstones were hidden, and that secret was absolutely necessary.

“How…has your leg healed up?” I could hear the question behind the question as she leaned on the edge of the bath.

I reached out and covered her hand with my own. “I’m alive, and that’s what counts. My leg is a mess, but it’s healing, and it wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for Lannan.” I lifted it for her to see, and she grimaced.

“Lannan didn’t hurt me. The Blood Fever had me in thrall, and I needed him. He didn’t humiliate me. He just…gave me what I needed. And what he’s wanted for weeks now.” I could see the doubt waging war on her face. I entwined my fingers through hers. “I’m telling you the truth.”

“If you say so.” She looked like she wanted to say more.

I was about to ask what happened after Crawl had attacked me, where Geoffrey and Leo went, but first, I needed to know how she was. Leo had brutalized her, and Rhiannon wasn’t as resilient as I was.