Reign of Blood

Chapter Twenty-Three

In Veneficus, the sun rose at approximately six-thirty in the morning. With it, the moon receded and the clutches of the full moon released the werewolf from its spell. Chronos heard the chirping of birds and the soft rustle of leaves outside the window before his eyes opened. For a second, he could pretend he was back home in the Territories. But that feeling of something nestled against his chest was like nothing he'd ever felt back home.

Sparks.

Which meant the Queen was close.

Closer than she'd ever been.

When his eyes did eventually open, nothing was as he expected it to be.

His wrists were supposed to be aching. When he'd blacked out, his arms had been chained above him in silver.

Instead, he was laying quite contently on the throne room floor. Even more unexpectedly, the blood Queen was curled up against his chest, breathing softly as she slept. Her head was resting upon his outstretched arm. His other arm was wrapped around her, keeping her warm.

Weather wise, Veneficus was always warm, but there was a soft chill upon the Queen's skin—because she was naked. Excluding a scanty red thong, the Queen was completely nude, tucked against him, her face buried in his neck. He glanced at her lips. They were bruised.

No.

He knew what the truth was, but he could hardly believe it. There was absolutely no way Annaliese had let his beast out of the chains and willingly spent the night curled against him.

Especially not after the warnings he'd given to her.

But he couldn't deny what was laid out before him.

Annaliese had done exactly that.

Something else must have happened. Surely. Because this wasn't possible. There was simply no way Annaliese- the Blood Queen of all people- had let his beast out of the chains.

But she had.

The facts were laid out before him in the form of a naked woman.

The beast had gotten something from her that the man couldn't.

Chronos wasn't sure how to feel about this.

He felt like he was seeing a different side to her as she laid like this, asleep. Like this, Annaliese was innocent and vulnerable. But damn it. She was just as devastatingly beautiful in her sleep as she was awake.

The sight of her like this knocked something out of him. He wanted to see her like this more.

Careful not to wake her, he stood up, lifting her with him. Thankfully, she didn't stir as he tucked her into his chest.

This was how their mate bond was supposed to be.

He took a look around the throne room and tried to figure out what must've happened.

The place was exactly the same as it had been when he blacked out, if not for the torture table. The weapons that had previously been laid out above it had been swept to the floor. It must've been with some force too, judging by the distance between some knives and the table. Then there was her shredded dress thrown halfway across the room. The beast had definitely done that—but he couldn't picture her letting him do it. Maybe someone else, but not Annaliese.

He'd ask her what had happened when she woke up. If anyone would know, it would be Annaliese.

Until then, he'd make her comfortable.

He'd take advantage of this situation and do as his instinct told him to. He'd do everything she denied him of.

Tenderly, he held her closer and started on a slow walk through the castle. It was a damn good job she'd kicked everyone out. If someone other than him saw her in this state, he'd have no choice but to kill them.