The Dondes’ estate, though lavish in its own right, didn’t hold a candle to the palatial silhouette of the King’s baroque castle.

That was the first thing Rey noticed when they approached. He wiped his clammy hands on his pale cloak, taking a moment to remind himself to breathe.

“What…uh…” Rey’s eyes widened, the first in a long line of servants, frozen in a deep bow, coming into view outside the carriage window. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Stick close to his Highness,” Aden told him. “Other than that, your manners are irrelevant. No one would question a concubine about vampiric etiquette.”

For some reason, Aden’s tone made Rey’s jaw clench involuntarily. “Got it.”

Their arrival was celebrated and lengthy, with the hosts, Eleanor Dondes and her husband, savoring their extra time with his Highness. As the din of the other guests picked up nearby, Aden and Calvin flanked them -- hard, bejeweled gazes meeting Lady Dondes’.

“His Highness requires a moment alone,” Aden told her, tone brooking no argument. His gloved hands were clasped together, polite and still in front of him. “Where may he bring his concubine to rest?”

Eleanor’s cheeks pinked, an expression of pleasant surprise spilling across her features. “Down the hall, of course.” She wrapped long fingers around her husband’s arm, inclining her head in the opposite direction. “Darling, show them the way, if you would.”

“Certainly.”

Rey’s heart beat a little harder, a little faster, in his chest. Behind him, the King’s footsteps were silent, the only sound the howling tundra wind rattling the windowpanes. Lord Dondes opened the door to a luxurious drawing room with a deep and deferrential bow.

“I hope you find it comfortable, your Highness.”

His Highness drew up behind Rey, one strong, bracing arm guiding him toward the door. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Dondes. We will join you shortly.”

The party behind them gave a polite bow before His Highness closed the door. Rey fought hard the instinctual urge to flee.

The sumptuous room was quiet. Rey focused and centered himself on the sound of the wind, on the glory of a healthy body. He avoided the King’s preternatural gaze, rolling up his left sleeve without a word. 

“Your Highness,” he said softly. 

“Do you not wish to feed today?”

It was that same unusual softness from their first meeting. Hesitancy, even if it had been dolled up in aristocratic phrasing and a steady, deep voice. It didn’t suit his usual demeanor. “I’m alright,” Rey said, shifting his stance and relaxing his shoulders. “Just a little nervous. We’ve only done this once, and you seemed like you cut it short.”

“I didn’t wish to injure you.”

Rey shrugged. “You really didn’t. I was totally fine after. I want to know what it’ll be like usually, so can you just…take what you need? I’d rather get the surprise out of the way.”

The King’s red eyes flashed that same molten silver. His tongue curled over one elongated canine, his gaze pinned to Rey’s exposed wrist. “I am quite parched. It has been a long time.” Their eyes met. “You must insist I stop if it becomes unbearable.”

“Will you be able to?” The question came out before Rey thought it through. He flushed. “I mean…I’m sorry. That was rude.”

“I will always stop,” the King told him firmly.

Rey cleared his throat. He pushed out his wrist. “Right.”

“Sit, please. Just in case.”

Rey carefully sat on a beautifully embroidered chaise near the window. The King kneeled in front of him again, his long, inky cloak pooling around him like a shadow. “I will begin.”

Rey nodded and took a sharp inhale as the sting of two pin-sharp teeth breeched his delicate skin.

Then it began anew: the sweeping heat and emptiness. Except, as his Highness continued, he could feel the beat of his heart speed up, and a cool feeling rippling across his body. Not once did he feel sleepy or dizzy, instead watching with an almost perverse satisfaction as the King continued to drink, a lively pallor returning to his handsome face.

Their eyes met, his Highness’ irises completely silver now. Rey urged him on. “Go on. I’m completely fine.”

He was, mostly. The same unusual pleasure as last time made him want to squirm, but it was bearable. He wanted to be sure whatever weird “engorging” his body had done was bled dry before he was paraded in front of a room of fascinated aristocrats like a particularly tasty trophy.

It was probably only a handful of minutes, but a sharp knock on the door was the only warning they got before Calvin entered. His brows immediately drew into an almost comical expression of surprise. “Leo, you’re still not done?”

The sound rumbling low in the King’s chest was more predator than man. He finished one long, last drink and turned to Calvin. “No, Calvin, I was not.”

Calvin tipped his head. “And you’re fine?”

Rey glanced down at his wrist, then back at the other two. “Yes? Seriously, you keep telling me this is supposed to knock me out, but I feel pretty normal.”

His Highness rose to his full imposing height, adjusting his cloak. “Well, it’s for the best, I wouldn’t want to overeat.” He held out an arm, helping Rey to his feet. His skin had a pleasant flush now, his steely gaze more intimidating, somehow. “Come, let’s go put the court at ease.”

Calvin held the door open, dropping into a respectful bow as they passed.