Killian loved their new arrangement for the most part.
In private, he could touch his mate without the fear of her cutting his hands off. So long as they were behind closed doors, she welcomed him to touch her, kiss her and hold her as he pleased.
Anything physical was allowed.
Which meant there'd been plenty of touching, kissing and holding.
He made it a part of his morning routine to drink from her as she did from him.
Equally, Killian hated this new arrangement.
Reagan, as she did with most other things, took the no forming feelings thing to a whole new level.
He'd eat her out, wreaking orgasm after orgasm from her body. Then she'd stand, put her clothes back on and leave.
In her own room, she'd ditch him to go shower, locking the door and making it perfectly clear he was to be gone by the time he returned.
Irritating woman.
Would sleeping beside her for one night be the worst thing?
So what if she woke up with his arm slung across her body? It'd take more than something so trivial as a hug to have her falling head over heels in love with him.
Sitting behind her, he pulled his fangs free from her neck, licking up the lingering blood with soft kisses. His arm was drawn around her body, his wrist clutched to her mouth as she drank from him slowly.
"How much longer is this going to last?" He asked, nursing a raging hard-on. Her blood always had that effect on him.
Grumbling, she removed her fangs from his wrist. "I'm done now. Gods."
"Not that." He guided his wrist back towards her mouth and sighed. "Take all you want of that."
Her touch on his arm became tentative. Reagan didn't like surprises. She didn't like being out of the know. "Then what?"
Since she didn't care for drinking anymore, he lowered his arm to her waist, trapping her against him as a precaution.
When she realised where he was going with this, he wouldn't put it past her to flee the scene completely. Then, in their next meet up, she'd pretend it had never happened.
"How much longer will you keep kicking me out of your room for?"
She slumped into his body, muttering, "You said you were letting me call the shots."
"Your shots are fuck-ish."
After fucking her six ways to Sunday, he'd like for nothing more than to tuck her up in his embrace, collapse into the pillows and call it a day. Instead, they faced the palaver of one of them having to leave. And then the bed was cold and empty, his body feeling used.
"My shots get you fucked," She stated wisely. Which was true, but it didn't make the situation any easier. "You're not complaining when that's happening."
He scoffed. Would anyone in his position?
My Reagan writhing around me, cumming all over my cock?
Only an idiot would complain about that.
He spent most of his days fantasising about the space between her legs. About what he wanted to do with her lips.
There was no chance of him passing that connection up.
"No, but I am when you're kicking me out two minutes later."
"We agreed on a no strings attached deal."
She shrugged his hold off, shuffling to turn and face him.
"And you think that being unconscious next to me will change that."
"I know how you like to manipulate things to work in your favour." Which was fair, he supposed. But how much damage could he do when she slept? "This is me avoiding any and all risks."
"If this situation were any different and someone else said that, you'd have called them a coward."
"I don't want to emote with you Killian," She said, not denying his point. Because she knows I'm right. "End of story."
He growled his irritation. "You can't have a no strings attached relationship with your mate. It won't work."
It was barely working now. They were both getting antsy.
Whether Reagan wanted to admit it or not, she wanted more than she let herself have.
She spent just as much time worrying about this situation as he did.
"Okay," She huffed, resigned. "We'll have the conversation."
"Thank you."
"You and I may, by technicality, have a mate bond." So that's how she wants to play it. Reagan and her technicalities and her plans and her mountains of distance. He didn't like being with people any more than she did—but damn it. Even he saw how well they suited each other. They understood each other. That was already enough.
"But let's not pretend we have the conventional type," She continued. "Beyond that technicality, there's nothing between us. Rather than making it complicated, I think we should be taking advantage of how the physical side of our relationship feels so much better."
She trailed her fingers over his shoulder, emitting sparks wherever she touched.
"Evasion. Your go-to tactic."
"Need I remind you how you left me for dead again a couple weeks ago?"
He slumped back into her pillows with an angry groan.
"I didn't leave you for dead."
She'd harp on about this any chance she got.
"Uh huh."
"You mean when you were the one saying to teleport in the first place so it was clear you were going to during a time you'd have chopped off my bollocks for touching you? I didn't leave you for dead. I was doing what you said and respecting your space. And I didn't leave you for dead before either."
They'd re-visited that dangerous road there was never any turning back from.
On this road, his foot would catch in a pothole. Reagan would dart to the other end, withdrawing, leaving him behind.
Just as he knew she'd do now.
Any mention of their past had her clamming up. She didn't want to talk about it. Or think about it. Hell, she didn't even want to remember their good times.
"You can relax," He chastised. "I wasn't asking about your secrets. Just stating a fact. I'm not trying to worm my way in."
"I can never know with you."
He relaxed himself. Recently, he'd been taking heed of her words, studying her advice.
With Reagan, nothing came before her plans. So he'd been working on a plan of his own. A plan designed to tear down some of those walls she'd built between them.
He wasn't asking for romance. He didn't want them to spill their deepest, darkest inner thoughts to each other. But it'd be nice to not play pretend at being robots.
Begrudgingly, with his eyes on the time, he forced himself up from the bed, pulling his shirt back over his head.
"You're lucky I've got other things to do right now."
From where she'd sprawled out across the end of his bed, she raised her brows.
"No time to bleed me dry for answers?"
"I'll make time for it later." He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth, happy they were leaving this conversation on amicable terms. It made a change from every other time he'd brought it up. "You can stay in here if you want."
He tucked some hair behind her ear as she hummed.
"I might have a nap."
"Nice for some."
"Annaliese got you playing her new bitch?"
He tugged his jeans up his legs, dreading whatever else the blood Queen had in store for him. "Nothing's changed. Just my jobs and responsibilities are shittier than they were before."
"I like it better when you're my bitch."
"I'll be your bitch any time you fucking want."
"I'll hold you to that," She warned.
"You'd better."
He didn't care much for the General title. It was a means to an end. Besides, the way she threw that power around was sexy as fuck.
He had his eyes on a better title.
"I'm sure everything will come together before long."
"It had better do," He answered. "I'll come find you later. Wear something nice for me?"
"Maybe. Only if I can be bothered."
Killian frowned. He didn't want to leave. He'd sooner spend the rest of the day arguing with her than go do what he had to do.
He'd read his agenda for the day. It didn't look promising.
Ten minutes later, he stood amongst some other vampires said to be part of his crew for the day. They let him take lead by instinct. They knew who belonged on the throne. They knew of his royal ties. Some even knew his Mother had been the rightful heir before Viktor ever rose to power.
They knew he was made for more than carting the blood Queen's wolf pet around the castle.
"Annaliese!" Chronos screamed, rocking back on his heels as the vampires dragged him up another flight of stairs. "Where the fuck is that blood bitch?".
Killian tutted.
This was the bitch's newest tactic to get back at Chronos. In a bid to show exactly how little she cared for the werewolf, she'd permitted him a night in another witch's bed chambers to do whatever the hell they wanted. No judgement.
As someone that had tried to forget his own mate before, Killian knew better than anyone it wasn't possible. Chronos could go in there with every intention he wanted. It wouldn't matter. He'd never be able to stray from Annaliese.
"Kicking up a fuss won't bring Annaliese to you. All you'll do is piss her off. The Gods know the bitch doesn't need any more anger in her than she's already got."
"Then fucking get her," Chronos roared back. "Bring her to me. Call her here. I don't care what you have to do. Just get her."
"For what? She says you've agreed to this. She seems to think you're looking forwards to it. She won't do anything. Do you really want to piss her off right now?"
Funnily enough, the blood Queen's stubbornness reminded him of someone else he knew. Only it was infinitely more attractive when Reagan decided to be a brat.
"You won't make her jealous," Killian said, speaking idly. "And if by chance you somehow manage it, she won't let you see."
Just like someone else I know.
Reagan would sooner choke to death than admit defeat.
She'd clenched her jaw so hard after the siren stint he'd worried she'd break a tooth.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because we're allies."
Because I need you.
Because you're part of the plan.
Because I need this to work.
"It's not like you have anything to worry about," Killian muttered. "Annaliese hasn't fucked anyone in years. She won't start now."
Like I'm any better.
Before Reagan's new arrangement, he hadn't been touched sexually since the night before her execution.
Gods, he hated being similar to that bitch Queen.
Now I have the werewolf's attention.
"And you know this how?"
"Do you really think the bitch trusts anyone enough for anything intimate?" Apparently, that hadn't occurred to the wolf Prince. "She knows that everyone's out to get her. She's too smart to take any chances. Annaliese would sooner shut herself away and bury herself in work than risk a vulnerability like that. That level of dedication is applaudable, but she'll drain herself out eventually. That's when people will attack."
The exact same thing Reagan was doing now.
Shutting herself off emotionally in the hopes it'd spare her from hurt.
Because she felt he'd hurt her in the past, leaving her to die.
Never left her to fucking die.
"How many years?" Chronos asked, morbidly curious.
"Last I heard of Annaliese doing it was fifty years ago with a demon to celebrate the end of a war."
The werewolf ground his teeth together.
"Want my advice, werewolf? Have your way with Amber." Amber, the witch waiting for him in her bed chambers. "If anything'll get under Annaliese's skin, it'll be knowing you went through with it." Torture both of them. Chronos would fail to do it, but they'd both have a hell of a time in the aftermath.
Anything to get back at Annaliese was welcome.
"She thinks she's backed you into a corner with this one—that you won't be able to do it. Prove to her that she means nothing to you. She won't like it then. The Queen always gets what she wants. If she really does want you, she won't like this."
Sixteen years ago with Reagan, he might've convinced himself to do the same thing. Only now the desperation had set in. I want her. He wouldn't stop until he got her.
His plans were changing rapidly.
No longer was the throne the only outcome of his desire.
He wanted the woman too.
This time, he wouldn't fuck up getting her.
When he heard the familiar clicking of heels, Killian almost sighed in relief. Relieved to see Annaliese. Well that made for a first.
He had something to get back to now.
He saw her sauntering down the halls at the end of the corridor.
They stopped walking.
"Your majesty," Killian greeted between clenched teeth.
"Killian. Good to see you're fitting into your new role well. It's not too much responsibility, is it?"
"Somehow, I think I'll manage it your majesty." He bared his fangs at her. "We're taking the werewolf to floor two, Amber's room, just like you asked."
"I can see that."
"I believe the prisoner wants a word with you."
She looked him up and down.
"I suppose he does." Then she sighed, glancing at all of the vampires. "Leave now. I can handle him."
Killian didn't need telling twice. Neither did the other vampires. They scattered within seconds.