When Kings Fall

Eight ⋆ Part 2

King Martell knew that no one would give up the chance to be with their other half so simply. Not even a man such as Thaddeus would give up that chance. After all, I was his servant to heal his cursed heart so he could finally be with his mate, and I can't explain how badly I don't want to lose the chance to be with my mate. But when has what I wanted ever mattered?

Of course, there was another major problem. If I did blood share with Thaddeus, he would learn that my blood does in fact cure him. Something I was not ready to tell him yet. The fear lingered in the back of my mind of what he would do to me if he knew. The possibilities were endless. The cricketing silence was deafening, an unbearable sound leaving me to contemplate too much.

And, as if on cue, one of the princes spoke up in our favor.

"Father, you cannot possibly expect them to do such a thing in the company of others. The process is far too intimate," Cónán reminded us all.

King Martell narrows his eyes at the prince. The tension between the two was unbearable. It was easily notable that the two often had different points of view on things, this not being the first time the two disagreed.

"This is a matter of politics, boy. Certain measures must be taken," Martell replies.

"King Thaddeus already explained to us. You can't demand he show us anything," Cónán protested.

"Words do not speak as loudly as actions," Martell advised.

"You say that, yet you don't follow your own words," Cónán claims.

Martell stands abruptly from his throne like seat, hands slamming onto the large table. King Martell was going to stand firm on his point, but Thaddeus quickly stood from the table, breaking the two from butting heads.

Thaddeus just stood there, eyeing up Martell. I quickly grab my wine, drinking more of it in big gulps rather than small sips. The air in the room was making me anxious. I hoped the sweet wine would slow my beating pulse.

It was a silent standoff between the two kings, until, finally, Thaddeus offered me his hand. I felt my brows furrow at him. He couldn't be giving up the chance to be with his true mate, not after all that he has done to find a cure. Thaddeus didn't look at me though, he continued his lock on Martell. He had too much to lose.

I glance to King Martell, who patiently and excitedly waits as his thin lips pull into a smug smirk. I place my hand in Thaddeus's. His hands were large and rough. His left hand lowered to my back, his right hand tightening in mine. My breath was heavy, heart pounding out of my chest.

My eyes move across the table to King Martell again, a last effort to plead not to do this. Thaddeus uses his left hand to grab my chin, pulling my attention back to him. I didn't want to look at him as he brought my hand up to his lips. Thaddeus's canine teeth came out, and he lightly pricked my thumb with his fang before doing the same to his own.

He wrapped his free hand around the nape of my neck to hold me in place, keeping my from pulling away and forcing me to look him in the eyes.

He placed his thumb on my bottom lip, slowly and gently tracing it. As he shoved his finger into my mouth, he used his other hand to pull my thumb to his lips. He sucks on my thumb, drinking in the small portion of my blood. His crystalline eyes raise up to me through his eyebrows, telling me to do the same.

Grieving, grieving, grieving. I mourn what could have been, what will now not be, what I can't save, myself.

As I sucked lightly on his thumb, I didn't expect to feel burning. Everything was burning. My soul, my body, outside, inside, heart, flesh. It felt as though I was starving in yearning my entire life and each small drop of his blood was tiny rations of fulfillment. Like meals delivered three times a day, enough to nourish me, to keep me alive. My eyelids close, fully embracing the pure ecstasy that coursed through my body.