Page 30 of Their Blood Queen
Proudly.
And from my experience with human females, they quite enjoy it.
Cage grins so wide I can see the glint of his own fangs coming out. “If you lie to me one more time, I’m going to fuck the truth out of you, and not in a good way. You won’t like it.”
Cage knows how to punish. That’s his thing.
And I like that about him, normally. He feels like the living and breathing consequence to my failures, and in a fucked-up way, that makes me feel better about myself.
Not that I’d ever admit that to him.
What I lack in speed that Cage has inherited from the Van Drakken line, I have in strength.
Shooting to my feet, I crest his height by a few inches and snarl at him.
I let the pillow fall as I shove him away. “You’re going to make me say it? Fine, Cage. I’m fucking starving. I need a real meal if my family is going to keep taking every scrap of energy I’ve gathered. I’m so hungry I’m manifesting a fucking feast in the dream plane.”
My temper flares, and I know I’m going to regret my next words, but I don’t stop them from forming in my mind. I let Cage see why he should run far, far away and never look back.
I shove him again, this time against the wall, splitting the solid marble in a straight line by the force of the blow. He grunts as rubble cascades around his feet. His eyes are still bright red as he glares at me from underneath the curtain of his golden hair.
Slamming my fists on either side of his face, I snarl, letting my fangs come out to their full, horrible length. My body has half transformed into my monster form as I let my true nature peek through.
Cage annoyingly stays in control, silently judging me as he waits for me to land my final blow.
Not a physical one, but one with words. One that’ll cut deeper than my fangs ever could.
“Say it, Sabre,” he growls at me with a rumbling, ethereal sound that’s the only sign he’s fighting his monster. “Fucking say it.”
My lengthy tongue runs along his cheek. He tastes so sweet, but it’s still not right.
Not how a true mate should taste.
“You’re not doing it for me, Cage. You’re. Not. Enough.”
His entire body ripples with rage, even though we both know it to be true.
“You didn’t manifest that scream in the dream plane, Sabre,” he says instead. “I heard it, too. I saw everything change for a minute, then it was gone. It was as if someone opened a window and let us see something that wasn’t there.” His jaw flexes with frustration, one I share, because he might be right. Or we’ve both just gone insane. “I don’t know what it was, but it was real, and that tells me there’s a soul out there worth having. Not just for you, but for me, too. Do you know what that means, my prince?”
He never calls me that, not unless he’s trying to rile me up.
My monster is taking over, making it hard to talk, but I snarl a response anyway. “What does it mean, my assassin?” I slither out the s’s in the final word.
I return the favor of using his official title, because that reminds him of how we met.
He tried to kill me. That was his job, the first and only hit he ever failed.
Because he fell for me and I for him, when we shouldn’t have.
Cage bravely—or stupidly—rests a hand on my shoulder in a claiming gesture. “It means we share a mate, Sabre. And she’s out there somewhere. Do you want to find her? Or do you want to waste your time with that fucking portfolio of brides not meant for us?”
Cage is delusional, but I can’t judge on that front. If I’m manifesting a mate in the dream plane, then I’m delusional, too.
“If you find another world I’m not aware of where she’s hiding from us, by all means, Cage. Fucking find it.”
I can’t look at his face anymore. I’m not sure if I’ll bite into his throat and coat this room with his blood or fuck him until he can’t walk.
Maybe both.