King of Battle and Blood (Adrian X Isolde #1)(2)



It was said Adrian angered Dis, goddess of spirit, and as a result, she cursed him to crave blood. Her curse spread—some humans survived the transformation to vampire while others did not. Since their incarnation, the world had not known peace. Their presence had bred other monsters—all kinds that fed on blood, on life. While I had never known anything different, our elders did. They remembered a world without high walls and gates around every village. They remembered what it was like not to fear wandering beneath the stars as darkness fell.

I did not fear the dark.

I did not fear the monsters.

I did not even fear the Blood King.

But I did fear for my father, for my people, for my culture.

Because Adrian Aleksandr Vasiliev was inevitable.

“You presume to know how a goddess thinks?” I asked.

“You keep challenging me. Did I do something wrong?”

“Did you expect complacency because we fucked?”

He flinched, and his brows slammed down over his eyes. Finally, I thought. Anger.

“So you’re upset,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I’m upset. You convinced my father I needed an escort.”

“You sneak out of your bedroom at night!”

I had no idea that sleeping with Killian would mean unannounced visits to my bedroom. Except, like always, he overstepped one night and found my room empty. He’d woken the whole castle, had an entire army searching the surrounding forest for me. All I’d wanted to do was watch the stars, and I’d done so for years atop the rolling hills of Lara. But all that ended a week ago. After I was found, my father had summoned me to his study. He’d lectured me on the state of the world and the importance of watchfulness and had given me guards and a curfew.

I’d protested. I was well trained, a warrior, just as competent as Killian. I could protect myself, at least within the borders of Lara.

Don’t, my father had snapped. The word was so harsh and sudden, I jumped. After a quiet moment and a breath, he had added, You are too important, Issi.

And in that moment, he’d looked so broken, I hadn’t been able to utter another word—not to him, not to Killian.

A week later, and I was feeling trapped.

“Since you are so keen to spill my secrets, Commander, did you admit to fucking me too?”

“Stop using that word.”

He spoke with clenched teeth.

At least he was passionate about something, I thought. Still, his order only served to provoke me.

“And what word should I use?” I hissed. “Make love? Hardly.” I was being unkind, but when I was angry, I wanted the recipient of my wrath to feel it, and I knew Killian did. It was a trait I’d adopted from my mother, given that my father rarely expressed his frustration. “You seem to think what happened between us means something more.”

It was like he thought he was suddenly entitled to me, and I hated it.

“Am I so terrible?” he asked, his voice quiet.

My fists clenched, and there was a moment when guilt clutched at my chest. I shook it off quickly. “Stop trying to manipulate my words.”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, but you cannot say you did not enjoy our time together.”

“I enjoy sex, Alec,” I said flatly. “But it doesn’t mean anything.”

They were sloppy words, but I meant them. I’d only chosen to sleep with Killian because he’d been there, and I’d wanted release. That had been my first mistake. Because it made me ignore other warnings, like his tendency to keep my father aware of my every move.

“You don’t mean that,” he said.

“Killian.” His name slipped from my mouth, a warning. He wasn’t listening, and if there was one thing I hated, it was a man convinced that I didn’t know my own mind. “When will you learn? I always say what I mean.”

I started to step around him, and Killian reached for my hand. I wrenched free and punched him in the stomach. He groaned and fell to his knees as I turned on my heels.

“Isolde!” he huffed. “Where are you going?”

I kept walking into the thick wood; the leaves were soft beneath my feet, still wet from morning dew. I wished it were the middle of spring, when the trees were lush and green. I could disappear much easier then. Instead, I walked between pale, skeletal trunks, beneath a canopy of interlaced limbs. Still, I was certain I could lose Killian. I knew these woods like I knew my heart. I would make it back to the castle without him, much as I had intended to do before he followed me to the border.

“Idiot,” I breathed.

My jaw ached from clenching my teeth. I did not hate Killian, but I would not accept being caged. I was well aware of the dangers in the world, and I’d been raised to fight every manner of monster, even vampires. Though I was no match for them, at least I knew it. If it were up to Killian, our armies would be battling the vampires right now, and likely, many of our people would be dead.

As humans, we had no cure to fight their diseases, no ability to outrun them, no way to counter their magic or the monsters they’d awakened. We were lesser, and we would always be unless one of the goddesses answered the many and varied prayers offered by the devout—which was unlikely.

The goddesses had abandoned us long ago, and sometimes I felt like the only person who knew it.

My pace lessened as the smell of decay permeated the air. At first, it was faint, and for a brief moment, I thought I was imagining things.

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