An Undead Rebellion (Sequel)

my tongue on your pulse / my finger in your wound

ARABELLE

I ended up falling asleep sometime after Corey had left the room, fatigue bleeding into my limbs. The early night turned into the dead of black by the time I stirred again. The sound of rain hitting the windows filled an otherwise silent room, and my vampiric metabolism had flushed the alcohol from my system, leaving me vaguely nauseous but also starving.

Femi came to my door shortly after I'd pulled myself into a sitting position, tucking my knees into my chest and glancing down at the black leather still wrapped around me.

"Dinner is being served," she told me, white coils piled atop her head in a beautiful contrast to her dark skin.

I slid out of the sheets, tugging Corey's jacket off. Following Femi, we traversed down the stairs and into the dining hall where the table was already full and I settled into a chair next to Safa, on the opposite side of the table from where Corey was seated. He flicked a glance in my direction, and I noted the button-down he wore that was midnight in hue and unfastened generously at the collar. My attention snagged on the pallid curve of his throat, framed by dark fabric, and I felt a dormant hunger deepen.

Dinner consisted of pan seared fish served with a blood and pomegranate sauce, bread that tasted like butter and currants, and a dark, sparkling wine. I wasted no time digging into the delightful display of food before me. I'd been so focused on trying not to be like royalty, out of some ingrained guilt, that I'd gotten rid of the chefs and maids that had served the royal castle. Eating like this again made me have the notion to acquire a kitchen staff if I made it back home. Though, it was possible Drake already had in my absence. He hated cooking for himself.

I thought of my crown, sitting in the throne room, collecting dust on its sapphire encrusted gold. I had rarely worn it. Right now, I gladly would have placed it atop my head.

My appetite was ravenous, and I had two helpings of fish and several pieces of bread. All washed down with a couple glasses of wine. For dessert we were served a rich custard that was topped with a raspberry-blood sauce and I thought it was possibly the most delicious thing I'd tasted yet. I licked the plate clean.

Ceric lived like royalty here on his little island of the undead, which was a far cry to how most members of his species were living around the rest of the country. Hopefully, that would be changing very soon. An alliance with Ceric wasn't out of the picture, but that didn't mean I would trust him. The only person left in this world that I trusted was my brother. He was the only person that had never lied to me, never betrayed me. I hoped he was managing well enough. I hoped I would see him soon.

It didn't go unnoticed by me that Corey kept casting glances in my direction during dinner, but I tried to ignore him the best I could.

After dinner, Safa stood up from the table and looked down at me, resting a palm on the butt of a blade strapped to her waist. "Are you up for a little sparring match, queen?" she said the title with black disdain on her tongue.

I glanced up at her, my gaze roving over the holstered daggers at her hips. I had a feeling she was very proficient with them. I wondered if she'd killed humans, and if so, how many.

"Not with me," Safa added, "with Jordi."

Just the sound of his name was enough to dredge up a venom in my veins, a biting anger. My eyes moved to see him leaning up against the archway of the dining hall, arms crossed over his broad chest. He smirked when our gazes met.

"I'm up for it." I pushed to my feet, focus narrowed.

"Wouldn't you like to change first?"Safa nodded at my silk dress.