Unconsciously, my fingers trailed up the column of my neck as I followed behind Ludayn, who led me out of my bedroom, out of my rooms, and into the hallway.

I could still feel the indentation of his fangs, the bruising ache when I pressed there. Was I to be covered in bite marks for the rest of my natural life, feeling the sting of breaking flesh and the memory of his scent and the maddening throb between my thighs with every one of his pulling, deep draws?

We passed keepers as we ventured to the lower floors, but I hardly saw them, though they paused in their tasks to make way, inclining their heads in small nods of recognition. Ludayn traced the familiar path back down to the entrance and out onto the back terrace. It was a bright, pleasantly warm day. This time of year, the Collis was beginning to cool, making way for the winter season. But on Krynn, it felt like summer. Warm and balmy.

Instead of cutting down to the courtyard—where we’d emerged from the transport tunnel yesterday—she guided me alongside the back of the house, going up another set of short stairs to our right and journeying down an open-air hallway, framed by rounded arches, which revealed a stunning view of the Silver Sea to our left, glittering in the sunlight.

I’d never thought a place could be more beautiful than the Collis. Than home.

Then again, I’d never thought to be the bride of a Kylorr and living on Krynn of all places, I added silently to myself.

The covered path led to a large, half-circle terrace that had a wonderful, unobstructed view of the sea. The same indigo blooms and curving, black vines from the courtyard spilled over the white stone banisters. They desperately needed a trimming, to cut back the dead, rotting weight piling on the ground, but it was still a lush and beautiful sight.

And it was there that Azur sat.

At a small table, seated in a chair that had cutouts for his relaxed wings. There were four seats in total, all surrounding the white stone table, its rounded edges smoothed from age and use, just like the rest of this place.

Azur’s eyes flitted to me, tearing his gaze away from the Halo tablet, which he had a lazy grip on. His other hand lifted and he beckoned Ludayn forward when she paused on the steps leading up to the small, private terrace, dipping her head in a small bow.

My heart sped, but I squared my shoulders as I approached. Strangely, I felt placid seeing him this morning, considering last night. Considering the feeding, the confusing and alarming sensations that it had brought to the surface, the snap of my temper and fear in the aftermath, and the mortifying knowledge that he’d seen me break down…I felt resigned.

Azur’s gaze was pinned on me, tracking me as I took a seat opposite him, the farthest seat I could take from him. He looked deceptively relaxed, leaning back in his chair…and was that tea? His hand curled around a small, black, glossy cup, and he watched me over its rim as he lifted it to his lips.

Ludayn seemed to melt away, leaving without a word. Until it was just the two of us on this bright, sunny morning, on this beautiful terrace that was spilling with blooms and greenery.

And I could enjoy none of it.

Sitting tall, holding myself tightly, I squeezed my fingers in my lap, eyeing the Kylorr across from me. We stared. And the longer we stared, the more I remembered the heat of his body pressed against me, the unyielding thickness of his cock at my back, and the wet, slick sounds as he’d drunk from me.

The rough tumble of his surprised groan against my flesh.

My cheeks reddened and I squeezed my fist tight. So tight that I purposefully dug my fingernails into my palm, hoping the sting would help focus my thoughts.

“Why am I here?” I finally asked, shaken from the silence.

Azur’s brow lowered. His horns looked especially sharp this morning. I saw his gaze dip to the bite mark on my neck.

Without thinking, I’d pulled my hair back into its usual bun before Ludayn had entered my rooms this morning. Which meant, with the dress she’d chosen—a dress I hadn’t had the energy to protest—it left my neck on full display. The warm breeze drifted over my exposed collarbones and stroked down the valley of my breasts, given the dramatic cut of the neckline.

Alarm went through me when I saw his catlike pupils dilate. I swallowed, highly aware that he studied every movement as my throat bobbed.

Then his gaze returned to his Halo tablet, his claws curling around it tighter. He had a privacy filter on his tablet, so I couldn’t see what held his attention or what he was working on.

“You need to eat, don’t you?” he asked, the dark drawl of his voice making my breath hitch.

He was in an unreadable mood. Cold and detached, and yet…he wasn’t being cutting or cruel. Not like last night.

“You think I will starve you into submission?” he asked, a dangerous glint in his voice when he peered up at me again.

Or maybe not. He was still testy.

At his words, I finally took note of what was before us. Eating utensils and silver-edged dishes. Set for a meal. For both of us.

And there was indeed a teapot, set on a warmer, in the very center of the table. Faceted and black like obsidian, I saw my reflection in it.

The appearance of Zaale saved me from answering. A hovering tray trailed behind him, laden with platters of food.

“Kylaira,” Zaale greeted, inclining his head in a nod, his voice measured. “I trust you slept well.”

The words were so normal and polite that they momentarily knotted my tongue. Ludayn had called me Kylaira too. I assumed it was a title.

“I did, thank you,” I replied, briefly meeting Azur’s eyes, seeing them tighten on Zaale. “Good morning,” I added.

“Where’s Inasa?” Azur cut in. “You shouldn’t be serving us.”

Zaale placed the platters down gently. Beautiful dishes, bright in color and variety. My mouth watered as I looked at the strange things perched almost artfully among the platters, decorated with small blooms and thick sauces. One platter was stacked high with rounded cakes, though the texture looked…gritty. The color was dark, nearly black, but bright blue oval-shaped flowers decorated the rim of the serving platter.

“Kalia intercepted him,” Zaale told Azur. “She dragged him into the village. Likely for help with the festival and the ball. She told me she was meeting with Yeeda.”

The…festival? The ball? Yeeda?

Kalia was the female we’d encountered yesterday, if I wasn’t mistaken. The beautiful one. Who’d cried mercury-colored tears and glared daggers at me.

I wondered if she was…

I wondered if she was another of Azur’s wives. I’d thought before that he might have multiple, that there hadn’t been a stipulation of monogamy in our marriage contract, not that I would have asked for one regardless. I knew nothing about the Kylorr’s customs, but it would certainly make Kalia’s anger and disgust yesterday justified.

Azur grunted. “Make sure she’s back in the keep by nightfall.”

“I will,” Zaale promised, reaching forward to take the teapot from the center of the table. He centered it over my own glossy cup and poured…only it wasn’t tea. It looked thick and dark, whatever it was. Like gray sludge. Then he took a small pot made of gleaming crystal and poured its contents over the sludge, a milky cream that pooled in the divots and cracks of the “tea.”

Seemingly pleased with the presentation, Zaale left us after straightening a spare platter.

“Eat,” Azur grunted, spearing two of the dark, gritty cakes from the stack and placing them on his plate.

My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him eat a large bite, half in disbelief.

“You…you eat food?”

His hand stilled, his single-pronged utensil—sharp and shining—poised on the path to his mouth.