Thrall of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 4) by Bella Klaus (namjoon book recommendations txt) 📗

The kiss fell away, and I was back on that bed on all fours, being taken from behind as Valentine plundered my body. Kresnik snarled and cut into my mind once more, making me bleed with desire for Valentine. My mind went blank, and the next thing I knew, I pictured myself straddling Valentine as he pumped into me from below.

“Is that all you think about?” Kresnik roared, his shadows shaking me like a ragdoll.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and saliva flooded my mouth as the memories assaulted me of my tongue around the head of Valentine’s erection.

Kresnik’s shadows vanished from around my neck, leaving me reeling from the onslaught. My heart pounded the way it did after waking from a nightmare. Breathing hard, I bent over double and braced my hands on my knees. When I stared up, it was to meet him glowering down at me with a loathing that made my stomach flip.

“Production has stalled,” he said.

I stepped back, blinking the confusion out of my eyes and still trying to catch my breath. “Production of what?” I asked, straightening to meet his gaze. “I don’t understand—”

“Has your magic returned?” He narrowed his eyes.

I shook my head from side to side. “Not yet,” I said, my voice still trembling from that mad rush of Valentine-related memories. “Healer Calla told me that powerful rituals take their toll on a person’s magic—”

“Yes, I know what she said,” he snarled with the implication that he’d not only ordered her to tell us that excuse but he knew it wasn’t true. “Roman’s magic returned. What about yours?”

“You want me to check, Father?” I asked.

Kresnik nodded.

“Alright.” Exhaling a sharp breath, I rolled my shoulders, raised a hand, and frowned into my palm.

He drifted closer, carefully avoiding my eyes. I didn’t dare to allow myself a moment of triumph.

Faint wisps of brimstone curled through my nostrils, but I didn’t dwell on the sensation. It was the default odor of anyone who had recently escaped from Hell. My muscles tensed, and I made my forearm tremble with what I hoped he would interpret as effort.

Kresnik’s hand wrapped around the back of my neck, and his power pulsed against my skin. “More,” he growled. “Push more magic into that hand.”

My skin prickled into goosebumps, and I made a straining noise in the back of my throat. “I’m trying, Father.”

His magic poured into me, feeling mostly like Coral’s. Pressure built up through my chakras, and ringing filled my ears. My insides rippled as though I was on the verge of flickering out of existence.

A scream tore from my lips, and I collapsed, hoping that a few seconds on the floor might give me a break from Kresnik, but he caught me and pulled me into his chest.

“Shhhh…” Kresnik stroked my hair. “I had hoped you would produce your pretty flames, but we’ll have to try something else.”

I gulped mouthfuls of air, forcing myself not to pull out of his grip. “Like what, Father?”

“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he crooned. “Calla knows of a painless way to extract the magic. When I’ve taken what I need, you and Valentine will spend an eternity ruling at my side.”

As soon as Kresnik released me and headed toward the exit, the lights flickered out, plunging us into utter darkness.

The absence of light made the unconscious prisoners’ breaths feel like steel wool against my eardrums. Something ghosted over my hair, making my skin tighten into goosebumps. I clapped both hands over my mouth to suppress a scream.

Was this where I forgot my pretense of not having magic and pushed a flame into my hands? Clenching my teeth, I trudged forward in the dark. I’d rather fall flat on my face.

Now that all my other senses had receded to the background, I could focus on Kresnik’s sharp power. It reminded me of a pyramid with smooth sides that culminated into a needlelike point, but beneath the glass-like exterior lay a riot of clashing magic.

Closing my eyes, I stretched out my arm and waved my hand from side to side, using it as my guide. It felt as though Kresnik was trying to create a patchwork of different types of fire to bolster his power. Only the smooth planes belonged to him… or he’d held it for long enough to incorporate it into his being.

After several steps, my fingers brushed against a crumbling wall. I followed it to the right, which led to a doorway. As I stepped through, light poured through my closed eyelids.

When I opened my eyes, Kresnik stood in front of me, studying me as though I was a puzzle he wanted to crack open and dissect. “Valentine won’t be around for a few days to provide for you.” His gaze dropped to my lips. “Is there anything you need?”

I decided he was referring to the breakfast tray Martika had provided this morning and shook my head. “Thank you, Father. If I get hungry, I can always find something in the refectory.”

The corners of his mouth pinched with dissatisfaction, and he held my gaze for several moments, seeming to wonder if I could really be that dense. I pictured myself dipping a freshly baked croissant into a bowl of melted chocolate diluted with thick cream.

With a scoff, Kresnik turned around and headed up the stairs. I smoothed out my features, keeping several strides behind him as he returned to his study.

“What’s Healer Calla’s method?” I asked.

He glanced at me over his shoulder. “I believe she explained it to you on the day you returned to the Flame.”

“The one where she sticks needles into a person’s heart?” I whispered.

“If there are any remnants of magic remaining in your fifth chamber, she will siphon them out with a long needle.”

Nausea rose to the back of my throat, and I placed a hand over my chest. My heart thudded a painful beat, already cringing at the thought of being pierced.