I took a step closer to the bed, so my legs were pressed against the mattress—Raihn’s knee between them, nearly brushing the apex of my thighs.

I’m fucking exhausted. So tired of pretending.

Even then I’d been pretending. Pretending I didn’t feel what he did. The hunger.

He sat up slowly, the movement making his knee slide forward. I could have stepped away, but I didn’t. Instead I settled onto it, pulling myself partially onto his lap—the pressure of his leg, and the roughness of his clothing and mine, sending a little spark of pleasure up my spine.

I lifted our intertwined hands, tilted so his thumb was facing me, and before I knew what I was doing, lowered my mouth to it.

His skin was salty and clean. Even his hands held that scent of him—that scent of the desert and warmth. I slid my tongue over the rough pad of his thumb, drawing a slow exhale from Raihn. I held his gaze, unblinking, and he didn’t relinquish it, meeting the challenge. He wasn’t even breathing.

I wasn’t sure why I did what I did next. My body just acted without me.

I bit.

He let out a hiss of surprise, but the spark in his eyes wasn’t one of pain or anger.

I let more of my weight fall onto his knee, my hips shifting.

Hot, salty, iron-tinted liquid flowed over my tongue.

Raihn’s blood was… was…

Mother, it was exquisite. Even the few drops that rolled over my tongue were intoxicating, sweet and savory and rich, seductive as wine and sugar.

It staggered me, the rush of it sending me spiraling. Before I could stop myself, my tongue pressed against his skin again, cheeks hollowing.

Raihn’s other hand had migrated to my shoulder, then my throat, then my face, his other thumb now stroking my cheek. My eyes closed, as if my entire body wanted to focus more fully on the pleasure of it. And yet, I knew he was watching me.

He let out a low, rough chuckle. I felt it shiver through my entire body—my core, my spine. The sound jerked me back to this world, pulling me from the haze of his blood.

I released him and jerked back. Perhaps I was half vampire, but my teeth weren’t especially sharp—the gash I’d opened was far less graceful than the two delicate little scars he’d placed on my throat, an ugly jagged line of pearling red-black.

My embarrassment rose to the surface too, congealing like his blood.

What the hell had I just done?

If Raihn was surprised, or offended, he didn’t show it.

“You have a little…”

His other thumb swept over my lower lip, pressing over the plump curve of it. His smile faded into thoughtfulness as it lingered there.

“You’re full of surprises, princess,” he murmured.

Mother, I was never ever ever drinking alcohol again.

I released his hand abruptly and he quickly darted it to my back to keep me from falling backwards, since I was still precariously balanced on his knee, my weight now entirely supported on him.

“Easy. Let’s not get too overwhelmed.”

“I don’t know why I—I didn’t mean—”

His brow twitched with amusement. “It’s alright to be curious.”

“I don’t know why I just did that.”

My face was warm, which was even more embarrassing.

He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s no use to question our more primal instincts. You’re half vampire, Oraya. You’re still learning the ways that affects you.”

I’d known it for months, and it still hadn’t gotten any less jarring to hear it said aloud. It didn’t help that Raihn looked so… amused about the whole thing.

“So… good, I take it?” he said.

I couldn’t bring myself to say aloud that good was not a strong enough word.

I had tasted Raihn’s blood before—when we’d fucked, and again, during the wedding. Even then, I had been surprised by its appeal. And then with the blood at Evelaena’s party…

“I—” I cleared my throat. “I tasted blood by accident. At Evelaena’s ball. And it was…”

That had probably been human. Taken from someone who had no choice in it. Taken from someone who had paid for it with their life.

My face must have grown solemn, because Raihn’s did, too. “You liked it.”

“I didn’t think—”

“Half vampires are rare. All of them have different traits. It makes sense that blood would taste good to you.” His thumb stroked my cheek again—an easy motion, like he was doing it without thinking. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just how your body reacts. Doesn’t mean you support it, or that you have to drink it.”

“You tasted… different.”

A pained smirk flitted across his mouth.

“Mm. That can happen.”

I didn’t even know what question to ask, or if I could find the right words—if I even wanted to hear it confirmed aloud.

You did taste… different, Raihn had told me. I thought it was because of how I feel about you.

As if he saw me putting those pieces together, he murmured, “It doesn’t have to mean anything. Just your body.”

Fucking figured that my body had to react to Raihn, of all people. Just had to make this situation even more complicated than it already was.

He removed his hand from my back and examined his thumb, still bloody.

“But if you wanted to experiment,” he said, “we could do that in better ways than this.”

He lifted his chin a little, as if to present his throat.

I scoffed. “You’d offer me your throat? That’s stupid of you.”

“Maybe. But you do have a fucking exquisite mouth, and an even better tongue.”

Goddess. Now he was definitely teasing me.

“Oh, fuck you,” I muttered.

“And there she is,” he chuckled.

I let out a breath, trying to shake away the lingering sensation of Raihn’s taste and his overwhelming proximity. I felt like his scent now covered me, like condensation clinging to glass.

I stood up, grateful to put some space between us.

“You said there was something we needed to talk about,” I said. “Why are we here?”

His face twisted into a scowl. “Ugh. You want to talk work.”

I sat on the little dining table across the room while Raihn talked. He leaned casually against the bedframe—somehow the thing supported his weight—and managed to look completely nonplussed by our entire interaction, which I couldn’t tell if I found admirable or annoying.

“So,” he said. “The wedding.”

“So you’re going to tell me what that’s actually about?”

He gave me a half smile. “That obvious, huh?”

I shrugged. “Call it intuition.”

“We have problems, as you know. The Bloodborn.”

“No matter my commands, they haven’t been letting up on their viciousness,” he said. “Some areas have been totally devastated by their actions.”

“Hiaj areas.”

“They’re all my kingdom.” He cocked his head. “So you’ve been keeping track of things.”

I shrugged again. It was my kingdom, too. It was my job to pay attention.

“And we’re no closer to finding this… god blood.”

I thought of the pendant, safely wrapped and hidden in my locked bedchamber. Mysterious as it was, it hadn’t actually given us any information, no matter how many books we read or spells Mische and I threw at the thing. We had, embarrassingly, no clue what it even was.

Raihn winced. “No. It doesn’t seem like it. On top of that, I had to rush back to Sivrinaj because of rebellion from a few of the Rishan nobles. As you know.”

He tried to hide his annoyance—deeper than annoyance—and failed. I watched him with a wrinkle between my brows.

“They really hate you.”

He scoffed. “Of course they do. Many of these people were friends of Neculai’s, and they saw me…”

Did he know that he always bit off his words whenever he talked about those days? His eyes slipped away, staring at the floor.

“They were never going to accept me as king,” he said. “It’s just some of the smaller ones, for now. But the one I’m really concerned about has been too quiet. Simon Vasarus.”