Page 143 of Hunt Me

“Shhhh,” he whispered, pressing a finger to her lips.

A few seconds later, Matilda picked up on the sound of Denalia whimpering. “Shall we continue this later?”

He smiled. “We shall.”

53

The Thirst

Ezra’s ears perked when he heard a faint snuffle followed by a cry. He moved without thinking of the cataclysmic consequences to come.

He stood over the heiress of Night Falls and watched her arms flail and her legs kick from the fur swaddle. He was mesmerized by her. She was small and warm despite her vampirism, and already the spitting image of the queen. He could foresee the troubles the child would cause from the time she could walk. She would have the entire court wrapped around her fingers, and her father wouldn’t stand a chance. She’d take after her mother—intelligent and sharp with a touch of cunning that could leave the wisest man puzzled.

Denalia would be unstoppable.

“Fret not, Little One,” he whispered, lifting her from the bassinet.

He held her close, bouncing her as he paced the bedchamber. A vicious snarl brought his attention to the window.

Ezra’s skin prickled with fear when he found himself face to face with a newborn mother—an extremely deadly combo. She was territorial and hungry with low impulse control. The slightest misstep could cost him dearly.

He fastened his eyes on the floor as a sign of respect and to avoid her pupils that had enlarged from adrenaline and pure rage. A guttural growl rumbled from her throat. Ezra dropped his head and slowly offered her the child. It felt like an eternity before the small weight was lifted from his palms. He didn’t look up until he heard the creak of the rocking chair. Matilda glanced over her shoulder as she tended to Denalia.

“Forgive me, Ezra. My emotions are complicated.”

“I expected nothing else,” he said breathlessly, grateful he didn’t become her first full meal. “Where is Luka?”

“I did the kingdom a favor and killed him,” she confessed.

Ezra froze. “I beg your pardon?”

“I disposed of his body in the same grave he buried me. The maggots shall feast on him soon.”

“Matilda,” he whispered, fear and disbelief clutching his chest.

“Queen Alesi,” she corrected, voice dark and malevolent.

“Y-you jest.”

“Believe that if it soothes you; however, you and every living being in Night Falls shall acknowledge my ascent to the throne. I will bathe in the blood of my opposition. Pledge your loyalty to me at once, Ezra of Noble House Gustafson.”

“I—”

“Why do you torture him so?” Luka asked from the doorway.

She dropped her head with an annoyed groan; Ezra collapsed onto the bed with a sigh.

“You spoil everything you touch,” she said accusingly. “I nearly had him.”

Luka’s eyes narrowed on Ezra. “Yes. It did not take much for him to consider.”

Ezra ran a hand through his long hair and licked his lip anxiously. “She threw you out of a window. It was not difficult to believe she’d bring you to a violent end.”

“I am still angry, yet he is more valuable to me alive than dead,” Matilda answered, finally settling Denalia, who clutched at the front of the tattered gown that was now more robe than gown. She closed her eyes at the sudden, sharp stabbing pains in her gut. She shifted Denalia from her arm to her shoulder, smoothing her hand up and down her back.

“Do you hunger?” Luka asked, pushing himself off the door frame and approaching her. She waved him off.

“What happens now?” she asked, getting straight to business.