Reign of Blood

Epilogue

Annaliese decided, in the early hours of the morning, that there was simply nothing worse than bed rest. Aside from being stabbed in the stomach via dark magic, of course.

Her wound wasn't even that bad anymore, but the werewolf Prince point blank refused to let her leave. He said that activity could reopen it and then he'd have to deal with her dramatics all over again.

It was bold of him to call her dramatic, Annaliese decided. Anyone else would've died for less—the werewolf was getting cocky. Since he hadn't shut up banging on about how she'd gone and fallen in love with him, he'd been acting like he had witch immunity. Which was stupid, actually. The second Annaliese wanted rid of him, he was done for.

Unfortunately, she didn't want rid of him. For now, the cockiness was something she'd have to get used to. That, and the flees.

She watched him pace around her room in that very moment, her back propped up by way too many pillows, her body covered by little more than one of his shirts.

"The warlocks," He repeated, brows furrowed.

"Uh huh."

"What happened to Fenrir?"

"He died."

"Go from the start," He snapped irritably, returning to the bed with a fresh ice pack. The bed dipped when he slid on beside her. Without warning, he hoisted her shirt up, groaning at the sight of her lingerie. But he got over it, thrusting the ice pack down over her wound.

"How did you know Fenrir?"

"I met him fifty-two years ago."

"Specifics, Leese."

"Seth and I were in the Common World for royal business, and the werewolves nabbed me in the night. Lorcan must've been in the realm too, because they were all castle staff."

"That's why you killed the wolves from the castle."

"They took me and they hurt me. That's all you need to know."

He sensed he wouldn't get much more than that little bit out of her right now, but he had forever to squeeze those answers out of her. They'd get there eventually.

He soothed his fingers over her fading wound, brows drawn in consideration.

"What happened when you left?"

"Fenrir was talking a big game for a while, and then the warlocks came. Again, I won't bore you with the details. They want me to deliver a message for them."

"Will you?"

"Had it been to anyone else, no. But it's to Evette, so I have to."

"You will be the death of me. You know that, don't you?"

"I had a suspicion."

"Now that you're alright, there's a few things that I need to say."

"You've admitted I'm alright, so you can't keep me in this bed."

"Nice try Leese, but you're not going anywhere just yet. And if I had my way, you'd never leave this bed again."

Surprisingly, that didn't sound so horrible.

"Alright then. What is it that you wanted to say?"

"A few things."

"Hurry it up then."

He gave her a pointed look. "First of all, don't you ever run off without telling me where you're going. Imagine my panic when I called the bar and demanded they put you on the phone, only for fucking Rosa to tell me that you weren't there. I'm getting you microchipped. Yeah, yeah, before you say it, I'm the dog."

"You're not my babysitter. I don't have to ask for permission to go out places."

"Do I need to throw you off of the balcony again?" He caught her rolling her eyes. "It's not a case of asking me. It's a case of telling me, the same way I told you. I know you're not used to answering to anyone, but from now on, you and I will answer to each other. That means I'll know where you are next time you need someone to come and save your sorry arse."

"Werewolf, you exasperate me."

"Number two, don't run into danger in the first place. If I didn't need your stupid face alive, I'd kill you myself for being such an idiot."

"Watch it. I'll put you back in the cells if you're not careful."

"You're a liar."

He dropped fully to her side, tugging her body into his.

"I promised Lorcan I'd get you to the war rooms later," He mumbled into her hair. "So we can properly debate a treaty between the witches and the werewolves without you popping off your rocker."

"It was his fault."

"I know, but this time's going to be better, isn't it? Now that you love me."

"Hmm, I did say that, didn't I? I suppose it won't hurt. I have a bone to pick with Evette anyway. The little bitch could've given me a better indication of what would happen when she said things were going to get hard, and I need to deliver her that message anyway."

"What's the message?"

"Some want to be King named Ronan- presumably the leader of those warlock wackos- said 'kill it'. Apparently, there's 'still time' and if she runs out of that time, he'll have to 'kill it' himself."

"What's the it?"

"I don't know. But we'll figure it out. Come along then Chronos. You can help me clean up the war room before shit hits the ceiling again. Oh, and I need to talk to Nazreen. I've been thinking about her coronation."

"You're not walking."

"Watch me."

He shot up from the bed and grabbed her before she could take her first step, drawing her back against his chest.

"I said you're not walking anywhere yet."

"Then you'll have to carry me, won't you?"

Chronos didn't mind that.

He didn't mind that at all.

"Evil little Queen," He whispered, hoisting himself up above her. "You're not going anywhere until I'm done with you."

"Hmm, and when will that be?"

His eyes flashed golden. "Never."

"Well make it quick. I have places to—" He drew his finger along the string of her thong, lifting an eyebrow as she drifted off. "You're going to fuck me again, aren't you?"

"Indeed I am. Still eager to get out of the bed?"

"Depends on how fast you nut."

"Little shit."

"Hmm, you love it."

He did. He loved the blood Queen even more.