Slaying the Vampire Conqueror (Crowns of Nyaxia)

I let him pull me up to the cart. When he dusted his hands off, he gave me a lopsided grin. “But hey, maybe you’ll be different. You’re just his type, actually.” “His type?” Erekkus leaned forward and gave me a conspiratorial smirk. He held out a finger with each word. “Beautiful. Mysterious. Dangerous. And an obvious, clear-as-the-fucking-moon mis

“Because you make me ravenous.”

I sat up straighter. “What an ominous silence,” I said. “Mm,” Atrius replied, unhelpfully.

“That little thing will probably put him in better spirits,” Erekkus said breezily, turning away. “We can dream.” * * * “What the hell are you wearing?”

When Atrius saw me in this, he outright snorted. Like an amused horse. “What?” I’d said. “Not appealing to you?” “Humans are so strange,” he muttered.

Nyaxia smiled sweetly. It reminded me chillingly of the smile I had seen in Atrius’s vision—the smile that doubled as a death promise. “I long ago tired of the White Pantheon’s petty threats, Acaeja,” she said. “If Atroxus or his ilk want to come for me, let them come. I will fight harder than my husband did. I have none of his compassion.”

“Death is what happens when you stand still,” I said. “Don’t stand still. Not for anything.”

“Hm,” he said. “To think I let such a dangerous creature sleep beside me every night.”

I jumped a little, startled, as he touched my cheek, the rough pad brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. “You’re lucky,” he said, “that I have a soft spot for caged birds.”