A single tear rolled out from under the right side of her eye mask.
Kael’s loins deflated as he sucked in a breath. Dread slid like ice down his spine. He reached out and eased the mask up and off her eyes. The strap on one side tangled in a braid and pulled it loose. A white flower fluttered down into her lap.
Her eyes, so beautiful, so expressive, told him how badly he’d messed up.
What have I done?
Chapter Three
Shayla couldn’t meet his eyes. If she did, she knew the tear she’d been unable to restrain would turn into the first of many. The relief of his tongue’s caress had just been so beautifully complete, easing her after the slicing cut of the blade had ignited a conflagration up her whole arm. She hadn’t really believed the bloodletting would be fully painless—how could someone make a knife wound painless, after all? But she also hadn’t expected it to hurt quite so bad. She’d been worried she wouldn’t be able to hold out against the stinging pain, that her weakness would disappoint him. When it was finally over, she’d lost control, just for a moment. She was so pissed at herself for crying in front of the king.
“You must tell me—” the king’s voice was tense, words clipped “—did you feel the blade?” Dark energy rolled off him like a storm. The hair on her arms and neck raised, prickled.
Not meeting his gaze, she nodded once.
“Say it.”
Shayla inhaled a deep breath. “Yes, Your Highness, I felt the blade.”
He shot to his feet and held his hands out from his body, imploringly. “And you did not think to say so? You must have known from your training that wasn’t…right.”
She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. His disappointment in her was like a punch to the gut.
“Answer me!” His voice reverberated around the stone room.
Her gaze turned to his. It was the first time she’d violated her submissive role, meeting his eyes without permission, but his anger stirred up hers. “I endured it for you. I did not wish to displease you, but it appears I have done so anyway. So, I’m sorry I have not lived up to your expectations, but I didn’t know what else to do.” She held his gaze, annoyed that she found him so damn sexy even though she was angry. None of this was her fault. Was it? No.
Preternatural light reflected out from behind the emerald of his eyes. She could only describe his expression as bewildered, and his loss of control, even if only in hiding his reaction, softened her anger. Finally, when she could take his intense observation no longer, she dropped her gaze back into her lap.
Could this night go any worse? She thought about what remained to happen between them and sagged against the unyielding wood of her seat. Oh, God. Yes, there was every chance this night could get worse. Please, God and any other deity listening, don’t let me disappoint the ancient sex god vampire warrior king in bed.
Kael threw his hands in the air and growled. The sound startled Shayla but it also stirred a tingling sensation low in her belly. In another situation, his feral outburst, so full of power and otherworldliness, would have been entirely arousing. He paced again, and though she knew by his clenched jaw and fists he was angry, she was almost amused at what she assumed was a nervous habit. Head still down, she watched him from beneath her eyelashes. The movement of his lithe body mesmerized her.
Kael’s chest clenched and his stomach soured with his guilt over harming her. His weakness had driven him to cover her eyes, led him to rush through his normal preparations, kept him from assuring the needs of the Proferred—caused him to hurt her. His voice should’ve been enough, had been enough with others, but somehow he wasn’t surprised to find something else distinctive about this woman. About Shayla.
Not in three hundred years had he failed someone this egregiously. The comparison to Meara was so unexpected, he faltered in his step. Not since her had a Proffered twisted him up inside so badly. What was going on with him tonight?
He chanced a sideways glance at the beautiful source of his turmoil.
Over his seven centuries of life, many blades had pierced his skin. He knew the awful burn of sharp metal against unprotected flesh. Yet, she’d sat there so silent, so stoic. To have done that…God, her strength.
Not to mention the way she’d defended herself. When was the last time someone had addressed him so forthrightly, had dared to express anger at him? Well, Liam did occasionally, but few others. Her actions put her in rather elite company.
And she was right. None of this was her fault. It was his, all his. He should send her away, now, before he made things worse.
He stopped pacing and faced her. The chair forced her into an erect posture, causing her breasts to thrust forward against the robe. Her dark nipples visibly pressed into the thin fabric. Kael’s fangs ached to bite into the mounded flesh of her ample breasts. He saw himself in his mind’s eye: striding across the room, falling to his knees between her parted thighs, pulling the gauzy material apart and devouring her slowly but surely….