Irina
There is nothing quite like the sting of sub-zero air hitting a pussy that is still dripping with another man's come.
The mutt didn’t say a word as he unpinned me from the stone railing. He didn’t offer a hand or a cloak. He just buckled his belt, spared me one last look that felt like he was checking a piece of meat for spoilage, and vanished back into the shadows of the keep.
I stood there shivering, clutching the shredded remains of my crimson silk to my chest. The adrenaline was draining out, replaced by the freezing reality of the northern night. My legs felt like they were made of wet straw. I looked down at the courtyard. The drums were still thumping, and people were still rutting in the snow like animals, but the heat was gone for me.
“Pathetic,” I hissed into the dark.
I wasn't talking about the wolves. I was thinking about Torin. It was his fault I was out here. If he weren’t such a fumbling, soft-handed coward, he would have satisfied me in the room. He’d left me starving, forced me out into the cold to find a real man who knew how to actually use his weight. Torin’s incompetence was the only reason I was currently picking frost out of my hair and trying to hide a torn dress.
I peeked into the corridor. The grey light of dawn was already starting to smudge the windows. If a single guard saw the Queen of Valdris looking like a tavern floor after a brawl, I’d never hear the end of it. Sera would use it. She’d love to see me look this small.
I needed to clean up, and Torin’s guest quarters were the closest. I moved fast, staying in the shadows, my soft slippers clicking against the stone. I reached his door and pushed it open, not bothering to knock.
The room was a wreck.
The bed was a mess of furs, the wardrobe doors were swung wide, and drawers had been yanked out and left on the floor. I saw his heavy leather coin purse on the floor, gold coins glinting near the washbasin where they’d been dropped in a hurry.
I laughed.
“Fucking Idiot.”
He’d run. The coward had actually tried to flee the Butcher’s fortress in the middle of the night. I walked to the center of the room, looking at the chaos with pure contempt. He thought he was saving himself, but he was just removing the dead weight from my life. I didn't need him. My plan for survival was much better: I was going to hide behind Sera. She was the Luna now. She had the Alpha’s protection, and she owed me for the magic I’d used to save her husband’s throne.
I walked over to the washbasin. Torin had left a pitcher of water there. It was cold as ice, but I needed it. I grabbed one of his discarded silk tunics—a soft, expensive thing that was now just a rag—and dunked it into the water.
I scrubbed myself. I washed the warrior's sweat from my neck and the grit of the balcony stones from my thighs. The freezing water made me gasp, but it felt like a reset. I cleaned the sticky evidence of the Kael'drak from between my legs, feeling a sharp, lingering heat in my gut as the cloth rubbed against me.
My thighs rubbed together, and the friction sent a pulse straight to my stomach. I thought about the warrior on the balcony. He’d pounded me so hard my insides still felt hot. I shivered, but this time it wasn't the cold. If I stayed here, if I got the sanctuary I deserved, I could have more of those barbarians. I could pick them out of the yard whenever I wanted.
Let Torin freeze in the woods or face Aldric’s iron spikes alone. He was useless.
Once I looked less like a victim and more like a Queen again. I spun around and faced the open door.
"Guards!"
“I see the Queen has been having some fun,” Yvara rasped.
My heart hit the back of my throat. Of course she could smell him. I reeked of the warrior even after the wash. I looked at Torin. Even through his bruises and his terror, I saw the pathetic, jealous stare in his watering eyes. He knew.
“Irina…” Torin wheezed, blood bubbling from his nose. “Where were you? What have you done?”
Yvara smacked the hilt of her knife against the side of his head. Thud. Torin groaned and slumped, but she kept the blade at his neck. She turned her full attention back to me.
“I hope Kark did a good job satisfying you,” Yvara said.
I went completely cold. My blood felt like it had turned to slush. How did she know? How could she possibly know the name of a man in a dark alcove in the middle of a riot?
I looked around the room, searching for the trap, then back at the woman who looked like she was enjoying every second of my collapse. My throat felt so tight I could barely get the words out.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
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