Текст книги "Desire in His Blood"

Автор книги: Zoey Draven

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Chapter 27

Azur

Fascinated, I watched the way the emotions flitted over my wife’s face. The bewilderment, the realization, the hope, the joy. Even the wariness when she thought I might pull my hand away. That reaction had cut me deeper than I’d thought it would, making me realize just how much of a monster she thought me to be.

She still didn’t trust me because I’d never given her a reason to.

“I am sorry,” I told her. Apologizing the way my own mother had taught me to. Holding one’s eyes, looking deep, and not rushing the words. Elongating them, even, dragging them out until they were gentle and soft.

Gemma’s gaze widened but she never looked away. As if she’d never even fathomed that I knew how to apologize for my actions. If only she’d known the terror that Kythel and I had been growing up in this keep, making trouble wherever we’d gone.

“I was cruel that night. And all the nights before,” I added gruffly. “I had no right to say that you were trying to manipulate me. What I do think is that you’re trying to adapt to Laras…to me. I haven’t made it easy. I had my own reasons for it. But I know that we cannot continue like this or else we will tear each other apart.”

Her eyes flickered in knowing. Understanding.

“You are not a prisoner here,” I said softly. “You are my wife. The Kylaira of Laras. No one is allowed to deny you anything. Least of all me.”

Gemma’s lips were parted. She seemed to have forgotten the storm because when a booming howl of wind—which sounded like thunder in the distance—shook the windows, she didn’t even blink.

“You’ll let me call my sisters?” she asked, as if she needed to make absolute sure what I was offering.

“Yes,” I said.

Gemma snagged the Halo from my grip before I could blink, cradling it into her hands like it was a precious gem. She was wearing one of her new dresses, I was pleased to realize. Though I knew dozens of pants and vests and tunics had been among her massive order—no doubt thanks to my sister—she still chose dresses during the day. Which, in my endless frustration, had led to rampant fantasies of slipping my hand up her skirts to find her bare.

“I—I didn’t tell you about my mother to make you feel…to make you feel like…” She trailed off, biting her lip in indecision as she floundered for how best to say the words.

I pressed my lips tight, feeling my fangs dig into my bottom lip. “I know, Gemma.”

She looked down at the orb, which fit perfectly in her palm though it had felt like a marble in my own fingers. It should’ve been concerning how perfectly she fit in my arms, how soft and comforting her weight felt nestled in my lap, how quiet it was in the confines of my wings. The hunger was difficult to ignore, given how her scent filled the space, how the heat and rush of her blood called to me, beckoning me forward.

“I don’t want to continue like this either,” she said softly. She tilted her head back up to meet my eyes. “It will make for a miserable life, and I don’t want that.”

I swallowed hard. Accepting a life with her, as my wife and kyrana, would mean that Aina might remain in Zyos. Unless Raazos set her free, which he likely wouldn’t do without her soul gem in place. And without vengeance against House Hara.

“Do you think we could learn to be with one another?” Gemma asked. Uncertainly. Carefully. Even I heard the vulnerability in her voice. “Do you think we could begin again?”

I likely didn’t deserve another chance. Just as Aina hadn’t deserved to have her life cut brutally short.

But Gemma didn’t deserve this either. The realization that she was just as much a victim of her father’s crimes as my family was…it was beginning to weigh on me. Painfully. It felt like the sharp point of a blade slipping beneath my ribs, making it hard to breathe.

She didn’t know what her father had done. I knew that with blazing certainty. The Gemma I knew wouldn’t stand for it.

I pulled out my dagger from the sheath at my hip. Briefly, Gemma’s gaze dipped to it, her breath hitching, but then met my eyes again, waiting patiently to see what I would do.

I took her palm and she held it flat, watching as I lowered the blade. Just like at our marriage ceremony, I intended to draw blood. She flinched but didn’t make a sound as I slashed a shallow cut over her palm, ignoring the way my venom began to drip, ignoring the tight heat that unfurled in my belly as the scent of her blood filled my nostrils.

Quickly, I slashed my own hand and then the dagger clattered to the floor. Pressing our palms together, so that our blood mingled, I drew in a shuddering breath.

Gemma’s lips were parted. We were close. So incredibly close, and I heard her set aside the Halo orb. It joined the dagger on the dusty floor of the library as Gemma shifted in my lap, positioning herself until she straddled my hips.

“Is that a yes?” she asked, her voice oddly guttural and husky, making my cock stiffen and my throat bob.

Our hands held fast, growing hot with the trickle of our blood, but Gemma didn’t seem to mind.

She reached up with her other hand to take one of my horns. A rough breath escaped my throat as she guided my head down to her tilted throat.

“Yes,” I hissed, brushing my lips over the flutter of her heartbeat. I pushed her hair back over her shoulder as she exposed more of her throat for me. “I need you, kyrana.”

Gemma gasped when I sank my fangs deep, but I was determined to take this slow. I would be gentle.

And so I took gently. As the moon winds rose to dizzying heights outside, Gemma moaned and gasped as I fed from her, taking little sips as opposed to long draws, dragging out her pleasure.

When she came, her orgasm seemed endless. She rocked softly against me, her eyes wide in wonderment, her cries cresting with the peak of the wind outside the keep.

And all the while, our hands held fast.

A new beginning.

Forgive me, Aina, I couldn’t help but think, breathing hard against my wife after I’d taken my fill, as her ragged breaths slowly calmed and I saw her eyes droop in drowsiness.

Forgive me.

Chapter 28

Gemma

“He’s traveling?” I asked, frowning. “Where?”

Mira’s lovely face looked back at me from the floating Halo orb. Like I’d suspected, it was the latest model, and it cast her image perfectly and in color, unlike the blue projection on the orbs we’d had in the Collis.

It had been a few days since the moon winds. A few days since that night with him in the library. A few days since Azur had gifted me the Halo.

I’d wasted no time in contacting my sisters. Even Piper had been delighted, bursting out into tears when she’d first seen me. I knew how much her ugly words in Father’s study had been haunting her. I could see it plainly on her face.

We talked in the mornings as I dressed with Ludayn, though it was evening for them. Fran liked to hop in on the calls, and all three of them gathered in the front sitting room as we chatted. I’d spoken to my father too, though the call had been brief and I’d been worried when I’d seen his flushed cheeks and wide grin.

It was only Mira and Piper this morning.

Both of my sister’s exchanged a look I knew all too well as Ludayn brushed through my hair. It very rarely tangled, but I must’ve slept restlessly last night. Azur had been particularly ravenous, and I’d tossed and turned with erotic dreams, waking up wet and slick and aching.

“He left yesterday. He said he would be back in a few days,” Piper answered.

“And you didn’t ask him where he was going?”

Piper shrugged. Her gaze flitted over my shoulder, no doubt to Ludayn, whom she still eyed with mistrust. A mistrust that set my teeth on edge, though I knew that not long ago I would’ve been equally wary of a Kylorr. It shamed me now. Sweet Ludayn, who I now knew smelled like her mother’s steam cakes because she helped her prep them in the mornings before journeying to the keep.

She’d brought me one yesterday, and it had been the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. Like ambrosia. A cake that had melted on my tongue and left a sweet, thick coating behind that had made my cheeks tingle.

“You know Father,” Mira chimed, though her shrug struck me as nervous. “He likes to travel.”

A stone lodged itself in my belly as anger rose. The old me would’ve pasted on a smile, reassuring my sisters not to worry.

I couldn’t bring myself to do it now, even though I wasn’t there to protect them. Piper let out a long yawn and my sisters promised to call tomorrow. I said my goodbyes with a lump in my throat.

Long after the Halo call that morning, dread continued to nip at my heels throughout the rest of the day. Father had promised me. Why would he do anything to jeopardize our security and safety again? He had daughters. Mira and Piper were beautiful. Though Mira was twenty-three, nearly on the cusp of marrying out of an acceptable age in the Collis, her ethereal beauty would grant her reprieve—especially beyond the Earth colonies. How many times had I heard the collectors threaten to take their payment with her? With Piper?

There was a hatred that mingled with my rage now. One that scared me. Because I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt it quite so well formed. It became a tangible thing in my chest. Something I could hold on to.

If Father had begun borrowing credits again, my sisters weren’t safe. I had the spare money in my own account from Azur—a stipulation in our marriage contract. I could use it to get them off New Everton, out of the Collis. But where would they go? They could go to my grandparents’, my mother’s parents, but they hadn’t spoken to us in years.

They could come here, I thought, my mind wandering as I looked through the lore records late into the afternoon. I was nearly done organizing my section of records. Maazin was absent today. I wasn’t certain where he was, but I had noticed him disappearing sporadically, then reappearing like he’d never been gone. Kalia was in the village since the harvest was drawing nearer and nearer. I’d barely seen her in the last two days, and we’d put the starwood vines on hold until after the ball.

They could come here. To Krynn. To Laras, I thought, stilling and looking around the darkening records room with unseeing eyes.

Would Azur allow it?

Would Azur grant my sisters a residency contract on Krynn?

I didn’t know.

And what about Fran? We were her only family. She had no one else in the Collis, and she’d only stayed on at the estate because I’d begged her. She’d stayed out of loyalty to us. I couldn’t leave her behind.

A decision for another day, I thought, wandering over to Maazin’s desk.

I was alone. Ludayn looked tired that day. She’d told me there had been a mishap that morning in her mother’s shop and so I’d waved her off early, telling her to go rest. I hadn’t seen Azur since breakfast that morning. Ever since the night in the library, we’d taken our morning meals together out on the terrace, though they usually ended with me being his meal. Just that morning, he’d pressed me up against the wall of the keep, his claws digging into my hips, holding me in place, and I’d tried to stifle my moans in case Inasa came out to check on us.

Blowing out a long exhale, I felt a familiar throbbing begin between my thighs. He had me trained. As soon as night fell, as soon as darkness began to crawl across Laras and the Halo orbs began to glow with their golden light, illuminating rooms and hallways…I knew he’d come for me and so my body readied for him.

To distract myself, I began to look through Maazin’s records. We’d decided that I would organize the older ones, he would start with the previous year, and we’d meet halfway. He was a slow worker, however. It looked like he’d only organized the last two years’ worth, while I’d finished about twenty years.

Sighing, I sat down at his desk, dragging the nearest disorganized stack toward me. I didn’t understand how Maazin could work in such chaos. It made my skin crawl.

I began to sort through the records, scanning my eyes over the columns, finding it fascinating to see the purchase agreements, the place of harvest, the type of lore—of which there were many varieties, I’d discovered—the sheer amount of credits exchanged, the weight, the buyer. Even the name of the records keeper, Maazin’s illegible scribble present in that particular column.

I liked the feel of the thick parchment under my fingers. There was something to be said for doing this the traditional way, for keeping records with ink instead of through the Halo.

It was on my second pass of Maazin’s records when my eyes caught on numbers.

Numbers.

Numbers that didn’t quite make sense. Enough to warrant a second look.

I was a stickler for numbers. Because my own family’s safety had relied on those numbers.

I fished out my own Halo from my dress pocket, frowning, and uploaded the numbers, running them through a variety of calculations before I came to the conclusion that Maazin must’ve made a recording error.

For the weight of lore that was sold—to a buyer called “Zor Koreen”—there was a discrepancy of nearly 150,000 credits. Credits that weren’t accounted for, a simple dropping of a digit.

Frowning, I set aside that particular record. It was dated from last year and was tucked amid larger purchase agreements, on the tenth page out of fifteen total for Laras’s harvest.

There was no way for me to check the accounts. No way to verify that the full payment had been made to House Kaalium.

It’s likely just a recording error, I thought. Maazin could be scattered at times, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t thorough in his work. He had a mind for numbers too, and Azur seemed happy enough with his work, even if he got the reports to him late.

But the nagging at the base of my neck wouldn’t cease, so I dug into the next stack of records. From two years ago. It took me nearly an hour of looking through endless documents—a larger harvest year than usual due to favorable weather, according to the notes at the top—until I saw it.

The dread I’d felt from earlier in the afternoon—from the news my father was traveling—returned to me, weighing me down.

“Zor Koreen,” I whispered, tracing the buyer’s name with my fingertips, scrawled out in Maazin’s messy script. A shipment that had been sent out through the northern port, in three metal crates, stuffed to the brim of lore. Nearly 200 vron worth of lore, given the weight in the column.

The buyer had paid 20,582 credits—the equivalent of 20 vron—only. A zero had been dropped. 180 vron were missing. Just to be sure, I went through the nearby purchase agreements, double-checking their weights and payments.

Nothing jumped out as being out of the ordinary.

What is going on? I wondered, slumping back in the chair.

And if Maazin had knowingly charged the buyer less than the value, why had he recorded it? Why had he left evidence of it? A trail that would lead right back to him?

Because he’d known that House Kaalium didn’t keep their records in the Halo, where these discrepancies would be discovered almost immediately when matched up with transaction history?

I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. I didn’t want to accuse Maazin of anything, especially without seeing the transaction payments through House Kaalium’s actual accounts.

Not that Azur would ever grant me access to those.

But didn’t he have the right to know what I’d found?

I need to be certain, I thought, rolling my neck. There were thousands of documents in this room, the thought making me dizzy.

I set my sights on another stack of records, pulling them toward me, double-checking that the door was still closed. Blowing out a breath, though my eyes were nearly going cross-eyed and bleary, I searched for Zor Koreen.

I didn’t find it.

But I did find Koreen Kos.

Same deal.

Five crates of lore this time, valued at 400 vron, due to incredible high demand for that particular year.

“39,560,” I whispered, rubbing at my eyes as I saw the amount of credits Koreen Kos had paid. This time, 360 vron were missing from the records.

When I went back another year, I saw the pattern. It had started small, likely that same year Maazin had begun to work at the keep. He’d only recorded a single crate that first time, but nearly 30,000 credits that should’ve been there weren’t. Last year had been the largest payment to date.

I was still deep in the records, hoping that I was wrong, when Azur’s voice made me jump out of my skin.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he told me, stepping into the room.

Just his voice made goose bumps break out over my flesh in anticipation. Deep and guttural. I could hear the need in it.

My gaze flitted to the records. My neck was stiff, my back aching since I’d been hunched over. How late was it?

Azur came to me, his hands plucking me easily off the chair, before pressing my backside into the desk. My hands quivered over his shoulders, but just as he leaned down to smell my hair—something he’d been doing a lot lately—I stopped him.

“Wait,” I breathed.

Azur stilled, pulling away though his eyes were already darkening with his hunger.

I took in a deep breath, uncertain if I should say anything. I hadn’t wanted to at first. But I’d found a pattern. And patterns—abnormal ones, especially—didn’t lie. Just like numbers.

“Does Zor Koreen mean anything to you?” I asked quietly, meeting my husband’s eyes. He frowned. “Or Koreen Kos?”

“Koreen?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“It’s an old Kaazor family name. Why do you ask?” he demanded, his eyes suddenly pinned on me with careful, cold observation.

Kaazor?

“I—I found discrepancies,” I told him, shoulders sagging. I didn’t want to get Maazin in trouble. But if he was stealing from Azur, from House Kaalium, then I couldn’t help him cover it up. I turned away from Azur, reaching out to straighten the documents, tapping them with my pointer finger. “In the lore records. Dating back four years, but I haven’t checked beyond that.”

“What kind of discrepancies?” Azur asked me, his expression carefully blank, his hands leaving my waist to press against the desk, lowering himself down so he could scan the columns.

I pointed out one. The first one I’d found.

“The purchase price doesn’t make sense for the weight of lore,” I told him, worrying my bottom lip as I watched his gaze flit over the ink, suddenly nervous that I was making a fuss over nothing. But whatever Azur found, I watched as his shoulders tightened. “And here.”

I pulled the next year, navigating to the offending row, ten pages back in the stack.

“And here,” I said softly, going to the next one.

And then the next one.

A part of me was worried that he wouldn’t believe me. That he thought I was trying to simply make trouble, and my heart was pounding against my breastbone as I waited for him to say something.

“Raazos,” Azur said quietly, tension tight in his shoulders, and he ran a hand down his face—his suddenly tired face, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him. Of understanding.

He was the eldest son to the Kaalium. He had this entire keep to run. Entire villages of Laras below to oversee. The nation of the Kaalium that he managed with the help of his brothers. I knew there was trouble brewing in the north with the Kaazor.

This was just one more thing.

One more thing that added weight to his shoulders, especially with Laras’s harvest coming up.

“You…you believe me?” I asked, unsure of what to say.

“It’s blatant,” he rasped, turning his gaze to me.

Was that relief I felt? Relief mingled with dread because I didn’t know what this meant for Maazin. He’d been kind to me. He’d let me barge into his records room so I’d felt a little less lonely, so I’d felt like I had some small purpose in the keep.

“I…I can’t imagine that Maazin would do this,” I said, saying the name that hung between us in the quiet room. “I don’t understand it.”

“But he didn’t try to hide it, did he?” Azur murmured, pushing up from the desk. “Only if someone was really looking at these records. And he’s the only one that works on them. Until you came along. You were right—I should have had them uploaded to a secure system on the Halo long before now. If I had, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

I bit my lip. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Azur said firmly.

Just like that.

My lips parted. “But…”

“Put it from your mind,” Azur continued, collecting the documents into a neat stack and taking them from the desk. “I’ll take care of it, wife.”

I reached out to touch his arm. His gray skin was warm and hard beneath my fingertips. I held him, feeling something lodge in my throat. There was trepidation for Maazin. Relief too. Disbelief?

For so long, I’d been the one to solve all the problems in our household. I’d grown to hate it because it had always fallen on me, weighing me down until I’d wanted to sink straight into the earth and let it swallow me whole. Even when I’d wanted help, I couldn’t ask for it.

And so when I’d found the discrepancies in these records, I’d felt that familiar creeping of nausea and dread. Another problem to solve. Another anxious ridden thing that would eat me up inside until it was dispelled.

But not with Azur.

He’d taken it from me in the blink of an eye.

He’d taken control.

It was freeing.

Still…we were married. If I wanted this to be a partnership, I didn’t want him to bear all the problems alone.

“If you set up the secure database and guide me to it through the Halo, I’ll upload the records,” I told him quietly. “You don’t have to worry about doing that. I’ll take care of it.”

I held my breath. I knew I was asking for his trust. His trust when he’d just realized he’d been betrayed.

Azur eyed me. I watched the moment that hardened gaze softened. If I was shocked when he dipped his head to capture my mouth in a kiss, I showed it by clinging to him.

“Do it,” he rasped into the kiss. “But leave Maazin to me.”