Free A Royal Craving by Elaine White

skin that makes them turn away, but their own selfish hearts,” Spencer reassured his brother. “They see you and cannot understand how you bore the pain of such markings. They fear what they do not understand,” he professed. “They do not care or understand what happened, but they dare to judge you regardless. They are cowards; weak, mindless fools who are incapable of bearing the burden you carry.”
    The boy spoke softly, but Parry heard every word. And he grew to feel an affection for him because of it.
    The sensible part of his brain fought against that notion. The boy was human and had caused a sudden change in his brother. Prosper had used his title as a means of getting what he wanted. In his whole life, his brother had never dared.
    Parry had to wonder what made this boy so special? Was it how he spoke, how he saw his scars?
    He chose to leave his brother to enjoy his new pleasure in peace. If Spencer had encouraged him to throw his innocence aside, all the better.
    He returned to his room, distracted by the events in Prosper's. Halfway there, he caught sight of Davian, sneaking out of the servants quarters.
    He followed the boy into the library, where he lit a candle and rearranged books on the bottom shelf.
    Curious, Parry utilised his speed to stand behind the servant, without letting him know.
    Davian pulled books at random and mixed them up, even some of those he had previously fixed.
    Parry knew he had been taking his sweet time arranging the books the way he had ordered him to. But he had never imagined the servant would deliberately undo his work during the daylight hours, when his employers were asleep. He wondered what it meant for his attraction.
    Was Davian extending his task, so Parry could continue to find and torment him? Or simply being lazy, unable to do other chores, as long as he worked on the library?
    “Davian,” he whispered in his ear, and the lad trembled.
    He turned, with a curious frown. “Parry. What are you doing out of bed?” he asked.
    He sounded like a disapproving lover who had found his desire somewhere other than where he had left him. It intrigued Parry. “I am hungry,” he announced. “I want you to prepare something and sit with me.” He did not want to be alone, especially after that promising tremble.
    The lad did not hesitate; he nodded and led the way to the kitchen. “The Master had the blood stores hidden, because he worried Mistress Sienna would overfeed, when at her most volatile. Eamon deemed it wise to continue the precaution until she is cured,” Davian explained, as he passed through the kitchen to the pantry.
    The plan made even more sense when he opened the pantry door and reached into a hole in the wall. The blood hid behind two large slabs of beef, that would assault the sensitive senses of every vampire to step into the small room.
    Davian pulled out two bags of blood, before replacing the meat. He smiled, sending shock waves of pleasure through Parry's veins, as the servant took the blood bags across the threshold into the kitchen.
    That smile spoke volumes about Davian's true feelings. The lad could be civil and sweet; Parry need only create a bond that would prove he could love and be loved in return.
    Davian pulled a knife from a drawer, to split open one of the bags. He poured the contents into a glass and used the second bag to fill another. He slid the first over the counter, proving that he knew his habits well; Parry always had two glasses, this late into the night.
    Parry watched the object of his affection, as the servant took a stool across the counter. He did not understand. “Should it not be heated?” he asked, unaware of the correct procedure for preparing blood for consumption. A servant had always prepared it, when he was not drinking fresh from the vein.
    Davian's smile widened. “Trust me,” he pressed, gesturing to the glass, in encouragement.
    Sceptically, Parry lifted the glass from the counter, watching the liquid sway. It