Crymson
There’s a pounding fear inside me that pushes me to run faster. Screams of women far off in the distance only intensify that fear. I avoid the region of trees to the right where those cries of agony and roars of pleasure become louder and louder.
But the smoke is thicker on this side of the castle. It burns through my lungs with every heaving breath I take. Tears stream down my cheeks, and I clench my lashes hard to fight off the clouds of dust that are growing denser by the second.
I can’t breathe. I can’t see. And yet, I still run.
My foot catches a deep divot in the dirt, my ankle hitting the ground as my heel breaks off somewhere in the dust. Pain shoots through my foot with an unsteadiness that drops me to the ground hard.
“Pretty Pet,” he whispers through the thick air that crawls across my skin, his voice carrying unnaturally in the dark. “Pretty Pet, I warned you not to run.”
With flinging hands, I wipe off the sticky feel of his eerie voice creeping across my flesh. I stand weakly and search out the cruel and taunting Blood Prince.
He’s as deadly as the dark fae these people fear. And I don’t know what he’ll fucking do to me if he catches me.
The pain doesn’t register. Faster and faster I run until I can’t see a thing around me.
“Crymson,” he hisses. “There was only one rule.” His voice carries like spiders crawling up old walls. “You broke the rule... And now I’ll have to break you.”
The hard booming of my heartbeat threatens vomit that’s building at the back of my throat. Tears stream down my face, but I no longer know if it’s from the suffocating smoke or something else.
And then it happens.
A hard body collides into mine. The sob I’d been holding on to catches free from my lips, and he never lets me go. I’m flung through the darkness at a speed that hurts my neck and limbs when I move against the force of it all.
So I don’t. I cling on to the monster I was running from just seconds ago. My arms wrap around him with a sudden exhaustion that I didn’t even realize I had in me. The warm smell of timber and evergreen interrupts the fiery air when I lower my head to his neck. I let my wet lashes close.
For a single second, peace drifts over me.
There is no worry. The Blood King isn’t a thought in my mind. The confusion of my father, the confusion of this burning kingdom, the confusion I feel with Christian, it doesn’t exist inside me anymore.
“You’re okay,” he whispers against my hair. “You’re okay.”
Understanding slips into my thoughts as I realize it’s not Christian gifting me this comfort. It’s Seven. And his mysterious, calming magic. The warmth of it seeps into my veins, my very bones even. It feels intoxicating. It consumes my entire mind, body, and soul. My fingers slip through his short brown hair, and I find myself leaning into him further for more of that addicting sensation.
We slow to a leisurely, human pace. I don’t untangle my arms from around his strong shoulders though.
“Put her down here.” The mere tone in Christian’s voice slashes through my mind and has me blinking through the haze of euphoria.
The smoke has cleared, but the screams of those unknown women are louder here. Pale embers shine through the canopy of leaves overhead. It casts a sinister glow across the sharp angles of the prince’s face. Black lines spiderweb over his features while an inky depthlessness consumes his eerie, blood-kissed gaze.
“I told you not to run, Pretty Pet,” he says on a voice like smoke and sin. “Put her down, Seven.”
I cling to him still. He cradles me against his lean chest. Rorrick stands silently at Christian’s side. Anticipation kicks in, my heartbeat speeding up despite no one making a single move.
“No.”
It’s a resounding word that’s spoken with so much rigid confidence that it shakes through my own chest. Seven is quiet. But he’s deadly.
The vampire prince’s lips quirk up at one side, showing off sharp canines and manic amusement. The two men stare one another down, and I have the intense urge to shove out of Seven’s arms just to keep him safe. I won’t let him put himself in danger for me.
Part of me thinks Christian won’t hurt him though. His amusement is cruel but there’s a sense of pride he has for his friend. I think the blood prince enjoys defiance. Especially from Seven.
“You want her?” There’s a conniving lilt to the prince’s voice. “You can have her.” At that suggestion, vines crawl out from the shadows. They loop around Seven’s torso and bring him down swiftly, his ass hitting a chair that weaves itself together more and more as the seconds tick by. I’m jostled in his lap, nearly falling to the dirt, but his hold on me is unyielding. His gentle hands slip around my stomach and he holds me in the safety of his arms even despite being restrained.
“Christian, you don’t want to do this. You don’t think clearly when you’re like this. Just calm down for a minute.” Rorrick’s words become an endless request of caution that I soon find Christian doesn’t seem to hear in the slightest.
“You feel safe, Pretty Pet?” he asks me, his prowling pace bringing him closer. He circles the chair Seven sits in. “Seven’s false reality really filled your head with lies, didn’t it?” He licks his lips slowly as the smile only grows. “That’s what the fae are good at though: lying fucking creatures.”