WALL MEN: A Vow Broken (The Wall Men 2)

“Jesus. Please don’t let him fly too high.” I don’t want to pass out. But as the Flier ascends, I realize there must be a big difference between the oxygen levels here compared to my world, because I’m already light-headed.

“I can’t…breathe. Go back down,” I gasp, and black out.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Well, well, the stupid human has returned.”

My eyes flutter open to find a familiar pale face framed by black waist-long curly hair. “Cream Cheese, you’re alive. How disappointing,” I say.

Uhrn flashes a crooked fangy smile. “I hear you’ve been busy. Marrying a Wall Man is quite the move. How was the wedding night? Did you finally figure out how to swallow properly?”

“Gross.” I sit up, noting I’m back in the same bedroom where Benicio took my blood again and again. No windows. No furniture besides the bed. Just stone walls, a torch, me, and my memories.

The instant desire to see him again triggers an ache so deep, it trumps any hunger I’ve ever felt. I try to think of something else. Alwar, Gabrio, Bard. Think of anyone but Benicio.

I rub the back of my head and stand. “Our wedding night was unique, but we figured it out.” I don’t want her to know Gabrio stood in.

I blink and look down at my torn clothes. I push a finger through a hole in my red hoodie and wiggle it.

“The Flier was forced to carry you in his mouth,” Uhrn explains. “Our healers repaired the gashes.”

“I’d like to meet them someday.” Because judging from the bloodstains and the size of these holes, I was chewed on pretty badly. This is the second time they’ve patched me up.

“Anytime you like, though they’re not much for conversation.” She shrugs. “Leech People don’t talk.”

I frown. “Leech People? They your pets or something?” Bloodsucking birds of a feather and all that.

“Pets, no. Servants, yes. Their sharp beaks are meant for latching on, but when they have their fill, their heads secrete a mucus that closes wounds. Like new again. They will be used in the Blood Battle to seal your wounds.”

“Sounds delightful,” I say dryly. “And my water? I had a bota filled with it.”

“You must have dropped it.”

“I need that for the Blood Battle.” There’s nothing edible or drinkable in this palace.

She licks her lips.

“Did I say something to make you hungry?” I ask.

“It has been a long time since I’ve had human blood.”

I glare.

“What?” she snaps. “You do not expect us to waste such divine food. And you cannot use it again after it is extracted.”

When it comes to food, these people just don’t care what they eat or where it comes from. “Whatever. Is there any way to get more water? Fresh water.”

“I am afraid we are too far from the wall, and the Blood People drink, well, blood. Not water. If you are thirsty, I can get you some—”

“No. Absolutely not. I’m not drinking Flier nectar.” Dragon semen is absurdly their standard milk around here. I don’t even want to know what the milking process is like.

“You will if you wish to win the Blood Battle.” She folds her thin arms over her flat chest.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” I mutter.

“You are the queen of the War People now. Yet you still whine.”

And though I’m grateful that she saved my life, I still want to throat punch her. “Wanting clean water is not whining.”

“If you say so. Come, let me bathe you and get you ready for the feast tonight.”

“Why can’t I drink that water?” It looked pretty clear, although it did come from a hole in the ceiling.

“It is reused many times and only for bathing.”

“And now I’m going to pass on that bath.”

She sighs with contempt. “Is there anything you will do without resistance?”

“I’m a queen now. I can do what I want, when I want.” Not true, but maybe she’ll get a clue and stop arguing with me.

“Ha!” She tilts her head toward the stone ceiling. “It is quite the opposite. You are beholden to everyone but yourself.”

I suppose she’s right. “I’m still not taking a bath in your dirty vampire water. And I’m not drinking Flier cum.”

“Then you shall stink and lose the Blood Battle.” She sounds genuinely concerned. I know it’s because she doesn’t trust Benicio to act in the best interest of their people. It’s why she risked everything to help me escape him.

“Uhrn, why didn’t Benicio kill you for letting me go?”

She taps the side of her head. “I am very sly. He does not know it was me. He believed it to be a spy, one of his soldiers who helped you. The male was executed.”

“I’m so sorry.” That’s awful to hear. I don’t like the idea of anyone dying, let alone because of me.

“Have I not warned you before about apologizing?” she scolds. “And do not feel badly for him. He was fed to the Skins, and his death was given meaning. It is the best any of us can hope for.”