Fated In Secrets (Nocturne Vampire Clan #2)

Chapter 23

23

BLAKE

R iordan made me a goddamned diplomat and never in my life had I felt less prepared for a role than I did for this one.

I materialized in front of House Valarian with crystal clear purpose—convince Lord River Valarian to join our cause—tension winding a knot in the pit of my stomach. We needed River for our plan to work. After House Hawkmere’s pledge to Riordan, the entire clan was watching.

Yet Lord Valarian wasn’t a male easily swayed by promises.

I checked my phone one last time as I took in the towering stone fortress in front of me.

I didn’t know how Evie had convinced Riordan to give her a cell phone, but I’d been checking mine compulsively all evening, waiting for her next message, or even better, to hear her voice.

Mostly her messages from these past days were mundane: Why are we wasting time planning this stupid coronation when we all know it’ll be a disaster?

Or my all-time favorite: I met the head butler today and he asked me which silver I wanted to use for the banquet. I told him to shove the royal cutlery up his ass.

I couldn’t wait to see what she’d say next, yet I lived for the times I’d open my phone to see a picture of her, posed on the bed, one bra strap loose over her shoulder, her hair down around her face like a pagan goddess.

We’d had two repeats of that first sexting session—two words I never thought I’d fucking say—both of which ended up with me stroking myself for half the fucking night before I could even fall asleep, but goddamn, watching her go over the edge…

There was something about seeing her face flushed with color, fangs sinking into her bottom lip, needy little moans coming out of her mouth as she crested that wave…I lapped up her pleasure up like a rabid dog.

Of course, while I couldn’t so much as touch my own mate, I’d discovered my former best friend and king had fucked her, so I was also insanely jealous. And curious.

Because, after two nights of imagining them together… fucking turned on .

I was still dissecting that fact. Rohr and I had shared females before. The practice was common, even, amongst our kind. Still…I was trying to work out why I found the idea so…intriguing.

I’d smelled Evie all over him, spotted the twin punctures in his neck and once the hurt and the jealousy and the rage had cooled, I’d gone deep somewhere inside my head I hadn’t been before.

To a place where Riordan and me and Evangeline made sense.

And now, the more I thought about us together, the more I wanted us to make sense, like the idea of the three of us together—me and the only two people I trusted—had rewired my brain.

But I was nothing but a live wire of hot, desperate want, with a bad case of bloodlust besides, and I had to get my problem figured out fast. I ached to touch my mate. To put my mouth on her, to sink into her heat, to feel our souls touch again.

Somehow, I had to fix this.

With a resigned sigh, I put my phone away, reminding myself to focus on the challenge at hand, not the promise of a female I was trying to find my way back to.

House Valarian was a family rooted deep in tradition and loyalty—but from whom loyalty was never guaranteed. I straightened my jacket and nodded to the dour-faced guards on either side of the door, who led me into the grand hall where Lord River waited.

The silver haired male stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, his figure lit in silhouette against the stained-glass light. He was still a brute of a vampire, bulky with muscle, strong shoulders bunching beneath the layered shirt and sweater, tracking my approach, sharp eyes assessing me for any sign of weakness.

“Blake,” he growled in his harsh, distinctive tone. “So, you’ve come to convince me to swear fealty to your king. I assume you’ve prepared a good argument.”

I inclined my head. “I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t prepared, Lord River.”

He motioned for me to sit, and I took the chair he offered, keeping my gaze steady. Lord River sat opposite me. River Valarian had followed Tyrell across the ocean, but never bowed to the Ancient, preferring instead to play peacekeeper between the royal houses, one of the reasons he’d be invaluable to our young court.

“Well? Riordan is still quite young,” he said, a trace of skepticism lacing his tone. “So far he only has the support of one royal house, and power shifts quickly in a kingdom at war. Why should I swear allegiance to him now?”

The question wasn’t unexpected .

I’d rehearsed the answer in my mind a hundred times, but now, under his gaze, I had to make every word count. “My lord, Riordan has already earned House Hawkmere’s loyalty and Lord Romaric does not trust easily. But this alliance is about so much more than loyalty—we are building a future. We’ve all seen what happens to clans that refuse to adapt to progress. Those who refuse to change will be left behind.”

I leaned forward. “Do you want to be left behind, Lord River?”

He watched me closely, considering my words, his face unreadable. “I’ve heard such promises before. What guarantee do I have that Riordan’s loyalty will extend to House Valarian?”

“Because I’ve seen Riordan’s vision firsthand,” I said firmly. “My friend keeps his word. He’s a king who values strength, yes, but he values unity more. With him, every house will have a voice and a future. Under Riordan, House Valarian’s standing will not only be secure—you will flourish.”

“A democracy?” A flicker of interest passed over Lord River’s face. He nodded, almost to himself, tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair.

‘One house, one vote.” I explained, jumping on the opportunity. “No playing favorites, no backroom dealings, no secret pacts. Ten royal houses, with Riordan, as king, casting the eleventh vote.”

I leaned forward. “Gone are the days we live in fear, gone are the days those who speak out disappear in the night, never to be seen again. I know, Lord River, what it is to come home to a murdered family, to hold a murdered sister in my arms and not be able to do a fucking thing about it.”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Your sire was a good male, Blake. I always regretted no one was able to avenge his death, the way he should have been avenged.”

“The High Council seems to have been…disbanded.” He jerked in surprise, and I held up a hand. “Details are few, and I am still waiting for confirmation, but we are entering a new era, Lord River. We must learn to govern ourselves. This is the way forward. The only way forward. Collum and Valaine…they would take us back to the Dark Ages. Is that what you want?”

After a long pause, he looked at me, his gaze softened. “All right. I planned to wait until after the coronation to make my decision, but you make a convincing argument.” He leaned forward, eyes glinting with a rare spark of determination. “And the rest of those fucks…I have no desire to continue down the path of debauchery Tyrell was so willing to pursue. Tell Riordan I will swear my allegiance.”

The weight lifted from my chest, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as I gripped his hand in a crushingly firm handshake. “Thank you, Lord River. You’ve made the right choice.”

He gave a faint smile of his own, “time will tell, won’t it?”

I left House Valarian with a sense of triumph, but the night wasn’t over. I still had one last meeting to attend, and Lady Morvessa of House Ebonshade would not be easy to convince.

I checked my phone again.

Nothing .

Then I slid it into my pocket, wondering if I’d won Riordan his kingdom, but lost Evangeline.

Hemlocke House was a gaping black hole at the center of the estate, dark stone walls blending into the shadows of the surrounding trees. House Ebonshade had a reputation for secrets and subtle power moves, a poisonous house I’d never trusted. But Lady Morvessa was legendary for her ruthlessness and her keen sense for political survival.

As one of Tyrell’s staunchest supporters, she wouldn’t be swayed by the promise of a better future.

No, like most of the Old Guard royals who’d reveled in debauchery and craven disregard for rules, she was happy to live in the past.

But if I could convince her…the rest would follow.

She received me in a richly decorated sitting room with aged, ornate paneling that absorbed the light. Poised and elegant, she looked barely thirty, her hawkish gaze piercing me to the bone.

Morvessa was lethally beautiful, with her perfect ivory skin and emerald eyes, the kind of beauty meant to entrance, right before you kissed those fatal lips and signed your death warrant. The Ebonshade bloodline was known for brewing killing concoctions and spells that were malicious in their destruction.

I took a seat, expecting the manor to smell like all the others did. Old.

Filled with dust and ancient timbers and secrets. Instead, a sickly, too-sweet essence perfumed the air, turning my stomach as I smoothed a hand down my face to hide my grimace.

“Blake,” she said, her voice smooth and playful, as she nudged a cup of tea my way. Tea I would definitely not be touching. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I kept my expression bland. “Lady Morvessa, I come on behalf of King Riordan. House Hawkmere has already sworn fealty to his new rule, as has House Valarian. We would be honored to count House Ebonshade among our allies.”

Her eyes sparkled with a knowing light, and she tilted her head. “What feathers in your caps. Two entire houses out of ten. Tell me, Blake—why should I risk aligning with your king, especially so soon? I have more to lose backing a weak ruler than I have to gain. Your king,” her lips curled up, “has barely even proven himself.”

I nodded, distaste churning in my gut that I was forced to bargain with this creature. “That’s fair, Lady Morvessa. But consider this—Riordan is bringing powerful houses together, strengthening the kingdom as one. House Ebonshade has always thrived in times of unity. You don’t stand in the shadows, you shape them.”

A hint of a smile curved her lips, never touching her eyes. “Flattery, Blake? Surely you can come up with something better?”

I smiled, meeting her gaze. “Flattery, no. Truth. You survived Tyrell’s rule by playing his game. Now that Riordan’s king, your best bet is to play ours. Riordan respects your true loyalties may always lie elsewhere. This alliance wouldn’t just strengthen Riordan’s rule—it would ensure that your house’s influence is woven into the fabric of this new order. Prove your loyalty, and with Riordan’s blessing, I have no doubt that your house will thrive.”

Betray us, and your house will wither , was my unspoken message.

She crossed her legs, tapping one finger thoughtfully on the arm of her chair. “You make an interesting case, Blake. But let’s not rush into anything. There is a party at hand, correct? Shall we witness the king’s full potential at this illustrious gathering? ”

My pulse quickened, as I wondered if she knew.

That the coronation would be the opportune moment for our enemies to strike, and strike hard.

That we were prepared for an attack.

“We shall see.” I said blandly. “If the coronation is a test, then attend, see for yourself what kind of power Riordan possesses. If you’re not convinced, we’ll respect your decision.”

I detested that slow, creeping smile. “Very well. I will attend this coronation, Blake. If your king impresses me, House Ebonshade may consider joining his cause.”

“Thank you, Lady Morvessa. I won’t waste any more of your time.”

As I left, I felt her gaze digging into my back. Always watching, scheming, plotting.

She was a serpent, ready to stab us in the back, but convincing one of Tyrell’s Old Guard to back us was the only way we might avoid an all-out war.

Those three dots dancing across my screen were pure torture as I sat on the edge of my bed at Markham Manor, waiting for her reply. Evangeline’s last message was still on the screen, rage burning a hole in the center of my chest as I gripped my phone, reading the words over and over.

In retrospect, I shouldn’t have snuck out. And I definitely shouldn’t have trusted Malachi, the fucking arrogant prick.

My body was a knot of rage, especially since Riordan’s last official directive — Malachi Draven has to die — was currently on my phone as my screensaver.

Evie hadn’t told me everything that happened three nights ago, but she’d told me enough.

The tunnel, her father and uncles waiting for her at the end.

Malachi sending her out to die.

I wanted to know everything. Every last fucking detail. And still, those three dots danced, no explanation forthcoming.

Riordan had—in all fairness—reached out to me immediately, but I’d been an hour away, meeting with a contact three states over. By the time I’d arrived at Darkmore, I was left staring at her freshly spilled blood, the entire park was swarming with Knightsguard and Evangeline was…with Riordan.

I’d spent the entire night pacing outside the castle, waiting for word, but had heard nothing. Because …I dragged my hand down my face. Because he’d been fucking my mate. Feeding her. Feeding from her, most likely, given the smug as fuck grin on his face the next day.

Not a single word until morning, when my disheveled, sheepish friend had finally appeared to tell me Evangeline was fine, but still healing. Asleep, for the rest of the day.

And that’s when I realized I was stuck on the outside.

Never had the gap between Markham Hall and Darkmore felt as vast as it did right now.

Never had I cursed myself for drinking from Evangeline more than I did tonight.

Fury crackled through me, igniting my blood into a raging river that swarmed my vision, turned my suspicious mind into a rabid beast. Because I’d made one stupid, fucking decision, I couldn’t touch my mate, couldn’t hold her, run my hands over her, reassure myself she was okay.

She was all alone, with nothing but a fucking cell phone as her lifeline.

Anyway, that was my night. How was yours? Riordan said you are finding us more allies. How did that go? I can only imagine, given they’re all a bunch of stuck-up pure blood snobs.

She’s scared. She’d never admit it, but I could tell. She was trapped and scared and alone and my fucking heart broke. I typed my reply, my fingers flying over the keys, nearly matching the speed at which my mind raced.

Two more royal houses swore fealty, for a total of three. My fingers paused as I debated what to say next, then decided — fuck it . This is killing me.

Her reply came instantly. Me, too. I miss you, Blake. So much.

I cradled my phone, staring at those words, everything they meant.

God, she had no idea. She had no idea how far I was willing to go to break this curse. I couldn’t go a single minute without the addiction twisting me up. I couldn’t be anywhere near her, yet she was all I thought about. Nothing else mattered except for her.

Not even my oldest friend.

But tomorrow, Aria would arrive at dawn to refortify the protective wards around the castle.

Tomorrow…I would fix my problem.

I typed again, taking my time, carefully crafting my words. There is something I haven’t told you, Evie. There might be a way to break my bloodlust.

Tell me .

I closed my eyes, letting myself picture her—the way she was lying on her stomach on her bed, those sharp, clever eyes not missing a thing. I didn’t want to get her hopes up, but if anyone deserved to know there was a chance, it was her.

According to Sylvester, the addiction, I typed slowly, can only be broken one of two ways. If your own magic is stronger than the power of your blood. Which apparently, mine was not , or by a different kind of magic. Witch magic.

Another pause, then she replied, Aria?

I gritted my teeth. Of course, she’d know exactly what I was hinting at, the clever little thing. Rapid-fire, a string of short, jolting messages appeared,

I’m sorry.

This is my fault, I should be the one to fix it.

If it wasn’t for me, we’d be together.

I pinched my eyes closed. Of course, she’d shoulder the blame for something completely out of her control. She’d been conditioned to manage every situation, so this was her way of managing, by taking on the blame.

None of this is on you. But I can’t be trusted right now… I’m always one slip away from losing control. Until I figure out how to stop this craving, I can’t be around you. I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.

Her next reply felt like a benediction. Then talk to Aria. Do whatever it takes, because being apart is killing me.

I set my phone down, the words echoing in my mind.

Whatever it takes.

Aria would be at the castle in a few hours to strengthen the wards. Once she was done, I would convince her to work her magic—along with whatever wickedness that entailed—and render this addiction void.

I’d have to trade something away, but price didn’t matter .

Because Evangeline was worth any cost.

Even if she had to bind me to the earth or set my veins on fire, I’d endure the pain, as long as I could be with my mate again. My phone buzzed, and her name lit up the screen.

Blake, are you still there?

I texted back, Yeah. Tomorrow I’ll fix this.

There was a short pause, and then, Tell me this isn’t dangerous.

I hesitated. There were risks—Aria wasn’t exactly known for her compassion, and if she was in a wicked mood… But Evangeline deserved to know the risks.

Aria will be here at dawn to fortify the wards. I’ll make an excuse to pull her away, then convince her to help. Hopefully, she can get rid of this craving completely and we can be together again.

Three dots danced, then disappeared, and I could practically see her weighing the dangers.

The risk is worth taking , I typed back.

I sensed her hesitation across the twenty miles between us, and then, finally, If the cure is dangerous, what then?

Then I’ll try something else. I’ll keep trying until we’re back together , I replied, my hands tightening around the phone. Because you’re worth every risk, Evie.

For a moment, all I heard was my own heartbeat, loud and insistent, reminding me why I had to break free from this curse. I had to get back to Evie. I had to hold her, kiss her, smell her.

And when she texted back, I believe in you, Blake.

Those words gave me all the courage I needed.