Thrall of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 4) by Bella Klaus (elon musk reading list .txt) 📕

steel wool. If eternal damnation had a scent, it would smell like Kresnik.

As I reached the base of his dais, he flicked down his fingers, indicating for me to prostrate myself.

Bile rose to the back of my throat. I wasn’t one of his groupies, but I also wasn’t foolish enough to get myself killed over something as trivial as pride. I knelt at his feet, keeping my gaze to the ground.

“You’ve been busy today,” said Kresnik.

“Have I?”

“Hemera,” Aurora hissed.

A tense silence followed that was quiet enough to make my ears ring. Jagged magic crackled against my skin, feeling like both fire and broken glass. It was a warning and a promise that the next time I spoke out of turn, he would use his immense power to shred me into pieces.

After what felt like an eternity, someone giggled. I peered up through my lashes to find the woman with her hand over her mouth.

Kresnik chuckled. “I was referring to your little musical performance in the infirmary. What do you call it?”

“Sound healing,” I replied, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. “With Tibetan singing bowls.”

He clapped his hands together, making me flinch. “How fascinating. Now, I must ask you a special favor.”

My throat dried, and my pulse tripled in speed. I never agreed to attend an academy, never agreed to help them with their war, and I certainly never agreed to become involved with a man who slaughtered his enemies and raised them from the dead as his puppets.

“Look at me.” Kresnik leaned forward and reached out a hand toward my face.

I flinched, a sharp breath whistling through my teeth.

Valentine’s low growl made the man withdraw his hand and lean back into his seat.

Some of the tension around my heart loosened at Valentine’s attempt to protect me, although a more cynical voice in the back of my head interpreted the growl as a warning not to touch his food. Either way, I wasn't complaining.

“Hemera,” Kresnik said in a deceptively warm voice. “Look at your father.”

I tilted my head up and fixed my gaze on the bridge of his nose. “Yes?”

“No more sound healing.”

My lips parted, but I held my tongue, struggling to phrase my question. All I had done was play a few instruments to a group of people. Whatever Healer Calla was doing for them hadn’t worked because they were all scratching and rubbing at themselves as though they’d been infested with fleas.

“May I ask why?” I asked.

“You may address me as Father or My Lord.” All the warmth left his voice, revealing the sinister man I’d met the day I had spoken to Father Jude about my parentage.

Right now, I couldn’t tell if this was a challenge to Valentine, a warning to me, or a clue that might reveal how I might defeat him.

I lowered my gaze to his chin and murmured, “May I ask why, Father?”

He turned to Aurora. “Let’s not replenish Valentine’s cold store of blood. I would hate to deprive the local hospitals of vital resources.”

My throat thickened, and an ache spread across my chest. This was his third attempt to engineer my death. The first had been when his shadow cursed me with the blood lure, the second was the night of his resurrection, when he’d handed me over to a ravenous Valentine, and now today. Removing the blood packs from Valentine’s room meant that my accidental death was imminent.

I held my breath, sending out a prayer to every deity imaginable that Kresnik didn’t ask me to hand over those blood stabilizers. Without them… A lump formed in the back of my throat. Even if Valentine was careful, he was still a preternatural who had developed a taste for my blood. Kresnik probably wanted him to get overexcited and end my life.

“Valentine,” Kresnik drawled. “Keep your pet under better control and don’t allow her to concern herself with my affairs.”

“Yes, My Lord.” Valentine inclined his head.

“Dismissed.”

Valentine gathered me in his arms and walked out of the throne room, through the hallways, and into Kenwood House. The tense silence he maintained throughout the short journey promised a terrible punishment. I hadn’t just disobeyed his order to stay put but got him summoned by Kresnik.

Fear clutched at my insides until acid burned the back of my throat. Valentine would punish me, or worse, inject me with more of that thrall.

It was still light outside when we reached his suite within Kenwood House, and Valentine deposited me at the side of the bed and stood in front of the crackling fire. I parted my lips to warn him that he could get burned but clamped my lips shut. The denim uniform was fireproof.

“Take off your cloak,” he said in a voice as cold as his anger.

My fingers trembled as I obeyed his command and let the garment fall onto the rug.

“And your gown.”

My muscles tightened, and goosebumps prickled across my skin. “Valentine, please don’t—”

“Now,” he growled.

A jolt of terror pierced my chest, negating all the effects of the sound healing. I placed my trembling fingers on the white dress, but my hands dropped to my sides. This was… My gaze dipped to the rug. I couldn’t take off my clothes and submit to Valentine. Even when a refusal would make my punishment worse.

In the blink of an eye, Valentine crossed the room and glowered down at me through irises as red as blood. I flinched, caught in his gaze, but my legs quaked so much they wouldn’t function.

“Please, don’t make me do this.” Even my voice shook.

“I should have done this to you from the start.” Valentine grabbed the neckline of my gown with both hands and tore the garment into two, just as he had done the night of Kresnik’s resurrection.

A sob caught in the back of my throat.

With a deft movement of his hand, the air shifted, pulling the pieces off my body and laying me bare. I folded my arms over my bare chest, but he grabbed my wrists.

“Never hide yourself from