CHAPTER 29
Killian
Ican’t help the full-blown smile that takes over my features as I walk with Blaise and Aimee towards the formal events hall downstairs.
The strange fuzzy limbs of mortal happiness creep all around me, mingling themselves with my shadows.
Happiness is such a foreign concept for a vampire.
It’s simply too ephemeral in its beautiful absurdity for us to bother chasing it.
But as I eat up the corridors in hurried strides, clasping Aimee’s hand in mine, racing to meet my destiny, I can’t shake this warm, happy feeling.
It can’t be anything but a sign from Akaori herself that right after I confessed my love to Aimee, her sister appears, willing to help.
Akaori herself has bestowed upon us her blessings, approving of our union.
Her fingers tremble in my grasp, and I guess her nervousness is to be expected.
She hasn’t seen her twin in five long years, and her childhood tales didn’t paint them as close.
But blood is always thicker than water, and there was no way in hell that her sister wouldn’t care at all about her, petty childish jealousies aside.
I push the ornate double doors open, revealing the gilded interiors, with vast hardwood floors, mirrored ceilings that gleam in the light, and golden walls painted with different serene scenes from our history: my coronation, the development of Drovillan, and numerous idyllic, hedonistic portrayals of vampires and mortals engaged in decadent affairs.
Just before we enter, I hear Aimee’s sharp intake of breath as she detangles her fingers from mine, taking two steps back, putting herself behind Blaise, as if he were a vampiric shield that can protect her.
I frown at the sudden loss of contact, as well as at the fact that she chose my second-in-command’s refuge over mine.
Doesn’t she know I would give my eternity away to safeguard her?
Aren’t I her sanctuary just as much as she is mine?
Or is this about her conviction that her twin would react badly to our relationship?
Aimee focuses her sight on the figure standing in the corner, her back turned to us, looking in fascination at the grand marble statue of Akaori herself.
Her chocolate brown hair hangs pin-straight down her back, just a palm or two shorter than Aimee’s.
The crown of her head is decorated with silver chains and moonstones, as the current Fae noble fashion dictates.
Her periwinkle gown hugs her scandalous curves, and her naked arms are wrapped in snow-white lace gloves that reach the middle of her forearms. She is a vision of opulent beauty and grace, and yet she doesn’t hold a candle to my little umbra.
“Miss Vaureghain.”
I clear my throat to alert her to our presence.
With a swish of her layered skirts, Aurora turns towards us, her eyes widening as she scans each one of us.
Her cunning amber eyes, so similar and yet worlds apart from Aimee’s, study us for a second longer before crinkling in glee and relief.
I can see the same shades of molten gold in them, but they lack the warmth of Aimee’s gaze, as well as her inner shadows.
Aurora has the eyes of a pampered noble, born and raised in luxury, sheltered from life’s harshness and cruelty.
They’re stunning, but lack the depth of Aimee’s gaze that mesmerized me from the first time we glanced at each other.
“Oh, thank heavens! By the mercy and grace of Alektrionna, Reythia, and Ereshkygall! You’re alive and safe, little sister!
” she says, clutching her chest with her gloved hand as she approaches us.
It’s so foreign to hear Aurora praise the Fae Godesses of life, love and death by their full names.
Aimee never acknowledges them, sticking to the general term of “Gods”.
“What are you doing here, Aurora?” my little umbra asks in a voice so ice-cold that a shiver runs down my spine. I’ve never heard her speak so devoid of emotion, not even when she hated all our guts for believing we were evil, despicable creatures.
“Don’t be silly, little sister,” Aurora says, with a pang of condescension in her tone, before she covers it with a relieved laugh.
“News reached me you were kept by the Vampire King in his castle. That he was searching for me and mistook you for me. I came to make sure you were alright, to bargain for your release.”
She directs her almond-shaped eyes at me. “I see the rumors were greatly exaggerated. My sister doesn’t seem to be in any peril.”
“Of course she isn’t,” I scoff. “Neither are you, Miss Vaureghain.”
“Aurora, please,” she offers in a saccharine voice.
“The Fae’s perception of your rule, King Killian, might also be askew.
I don’t feel threatened in your presence, as I was raised to expect.
However, I am intrigued by your motives to guest my sister at your castle.
I assume your realm-wide hunt for me has to do with that Godsforsaken prophecy. ”
“Doh,” Blaise snickers from beside me, rolling his eyes, and I don’t miss how Aimee grabs his biceps, squeezing lightly, and shaking her head slowly at him. Nor does Aurora, narrowing her eyes at the gesture, before a full-blown smile forms on her ruby lips.
“Ah, I see.” She quirks a knowing brow at her sister, giving Blaise an appraising once-over, before returning her gaze to me.
Does she think Aimee and Blaise are frolicking?
The ugly green-eyed monster coils around my insides, snapping its jagged teeth and hissing.
My shadows react to my inner turmoil, pooling down at our feet.
I feel a savage urge to stake my claim brutishly over Aimee, in front of her twin, and the whole wide world.
My centuries of strained diplomacy kick in, and I know such a rush move could blow up in all our faces. I have to play the perfect host, to deploy my charm like a honeyed blade, and to get Aurora to name her price for agreeing to help in defeating Morweena and the onpyrs.
“Indeed, my lady. We need your gracious help in facing an ancient force that is threatening the safety of my kingdom, and even the entire realm. I apologize for the unsavory way that we attracted your attention, but please believe me when I say it is for the greater good. Shall we discuss the terms of your support now?”
Aurora laughs, the sound shrill and somewhat rehearsed, not like the genuine crystalline giggles my umbra sometimes makes. Fucking hell! I seem unable to stop comparing the two sisters in my mind.
“None of that, King Killian, or can I call you Killian, darling? Where is that vampire hospitality that nobody talks about? I am positively famished and exhausted after such a long ride to reach Sangeries. I would like to be escorted to my chambers to rest. We can discuss all that later over a lavish dinner.” She throws me a pouty smile, and I can feel anger radiating from Aimee at my back.
Well, at least I can find solace because she seems just as affected by jealousy as I am.
“As you wish, Aurora,” I say. “Blaise here can escort you and alert the servants to be at your disposal. We shall dine tonight in the formal dining hall and discuss it all.” I throw Blaise a pointed look, and he straightens.
“Perfect.” She offers me a demure smile before addressing Blaise. “You boy, let’s go.” My second-in-command takes the lead, leaving the room with Aurora, muttering something about pains in the ass under his breath.
I turn to take Aimee into my arms, but she beats me to it, clinging to my arms shakily, eyes teary. “Killian, please hear me out. This is not good. My sister, she’s trouble. I have to tell you…”
“Not now, my love.” I give her a quick peck on her beautiful lips.
“I have to go alert Marhus and my other warriors. We need to prepare for battle. As soon as your sister agrees to fulfill the prophecy, we can march to Burneside Keep and end Morweena once and for all. I’ll see you later at dinner.
” With that, I disintegrate in a puff of crimson, swirling down the corridors towards my general’s private chamber.
Aimee
I’ve been pacing all afternoon around my room, losing my wits over the current situation.
As much as I’ve mulled over every word, every reaction Aurora had in the ballroom, I can’t, for the love of Gods, figure out what her angle is.
She is scheming for sure, pretending to be the doting sister for some ulterior motives I can’t comprehend.
What’s worse is that she seems genuinely interested in Killian.
It didn’t go unnoticed how she batted her eyelashes at him, how she played the demure damsel role, how she fucking called him “Killian, darling” and, most importantly, how he did not correct her.
I’m fuming right now, my mind a volcano raging on the brink of eruption.
Is she planning to seduce my Killian? My partner? My lover?
The irony of my possessiveness towards him doesn’t escape me, as I spent months denying that he could be anything of mine, only to end up feral for him.
I’d scratch a bitch’s eyes out for ogling him the way Aurora did today, if said bitch would be anyone else.
But when it comes to my twin, all my fight leaves me, conditioned by years upon years of trauma at her hands.
As dinnertime approaches, I work on my breathing exercises, while Nella helps me get ready.
Apparently, Killian handpicked my attire for the night, which arrived during the afternoon, brought in by several maids.
The sublime tulle gown hugs my curves like a dream.
Layers upon layers of translucent obsidian fabric cover my breasts in a deep V neckline that reaches above my belly button, before flowing seamlessly to the floor.
Woven in the delicate dark fabric are thousands of tiny diamonds and star-shaped pearls, creating a cosmic wearable piece of pure art.
I look like a true-born Goddess of the Night.