Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CIPRIAN
I hold my breath, waiting for her reaction to what I’ve just revealed.
When she remains quiet for too long, I frown. “Viviana?”
“Yes?”
“Are you all right?” I ask, shifting so I can roll her to her back and stare down at her.
She blinks up at me. “I’m processing.”
“Oh.” I suppose that’s better than hearing her say vampire. It’s also better than her screaming or crying. I know she understands, at least on the surface, how important these trials are for my kind. But I don’t think she’s aware of the risks.
I’m also aware that she didn’t actually consent to them, either. Something I assume will bother her, given her previous comments on the topic.
“If it matters, I did not initiate the trials. At least, not directly.” I study her beautiful face as I slowly retract my tail.
She doesn’t move, just continues to look up at me as her mind considers everything I’ve told her over the last few days.
“Marius says my people felt my intentions,” I go on. “They’re impatient. Which is my fault for taking so long to find a worthy candidate. I would apologize for that, but there’s a reason I chose to be selective. I don’t want to fail.”
“Fail in providing a good, uh, bride…?” she asks.
“A good candidate, yes. And I don’t want to fail my mate either,” I say, sitting up and moving to lean against the headboard. “Previous rulers have chosen to use the trials as a matchmaking game.”
That’s the best way I can describe the behavior.
But it’s not quite accurate.
“As I mentioned, the humans in my world know Strigoi exist.” I informed her of that when discussing the trials and the importance for my world. “So a contest typically ignites among the mortals to… auction brides.”
Viviana moves on the bed to join me by the headboard, my shirt still clinging to her arms yet hanging open to reveal her perfect form.
I try to ignore the allure, but it’s difficult.
However, I need her to understand this—the importance of what she means to me. Why it’s taken me so long to find her. How I ended up in this world.
“Are the auctioned brides usually willing?” she asks, her dark eyes holding mine.
“Yes. Always. Because becoming queen in my world is a coveted position.”
“Becoming a queen in this world is also coveted, I think,” she replies. “Wealth. Power. It’s something a lot of humans desire.”
I nod. “I’ve noticed that throughout the centuries. However, I’ve avoided monarchs and their frivolous politics by making payments and using compulsion.” I study her. “Though, sometimes a clever mortal stumbles upon records of my existence.”
“How do you usually handle those clever mortals?” she asks.
“I send them on a path that leads them elsewhere.”
She waits for me to elaborate, and I can hear in her mind that she’s wondering if anyone else has ever arrived at my doorstep.
“You’re the first outsider that I’ve allowed to learn my secret,” I murmur. “Only the staff in my home are aware of who and what I am, and their families have helped safeguard me for many generations.”
“So Marius is… a descendant?”
I smirk. “Marius isn’t human, Viviana. He’s a Strigoi. My second-in-command, actually. And my best friend.”
Her eyes widen more and more with each statement I make. “So he’s not a familiar?”
“Strigoi don’t have familiars, pet. We have staff.
We have humans who allow us to feed. And, well, some of us have harems, too.
Marius, for example, has very much enjoyed being the acting monarch in the Strigoi Kingdom.
Which I suppose brings me back to the auctions—Marius has received many humans as gifts.
All of them wishing he would take one as a mate. ”
“But he has a harem instead,” she says slowly.
“Precisely.”
“So you, too, could have a harem?” The wariness in her tone tells me how she feels about this concept. And the wave of possessiveness coming from her thoughts almost makes me smile.
“Yes, I could,” I admit. “However, I’ve never desired a harem. I’ve always wanted to find a mate, not dally with inconsequential relations. Which is why I left my home world and came here. I craved someone different. Someone unique. Someone… not offered up on a platter for potential slaughter.”
I go on to reiterate the purpose of the trials, how my kind tests potential mates for Strigoi royals.
“They have to approve of their king and queen,” I stress. “It’s widely understood in my realm and accepted as a challenge among the mortals. My predecessors enjoyed the carnage. At least until one of them fell for a candidate who died.”
It’s not a story I like to think about, yet it’s one that haunted my childhood.
Because that candidate was my mother’s older sister.
“The trials are about testing a human’s worth as the mother or father of a royal heir. So many of the tasks focus on stamina and strength, the goal being to ensure that whoever procreates with a Strigoi is capable of adding impressive traits to the match.”
It makes sense from an evolutionary standpoint. But it’s an archaic practice.
I’ve always felt that I should be trusted to pick an appropriate mate. And that’s mostly why I set off on my own to find someone worthy of the task.
Instead, I found boredom. Complacency. Irritation.
No one ever felt right.
Until now.
There has to be a reason for that. Viviana is different. I can feel it in my soul. If the Strigoi reject her…
It’s a thought I don’t let myself finish.
And instead focus on sharing all of this out loud, telling her why I ventured here to find my own mate. How my father allowed the Strigoi and humans of our realm to engage in a series of trials for entertainment.
“He didn’t want to pick any of the candidates himself, so he allowed it to be turned into a spectacle.” My tone is flat to mask my anger.
It was a reckless choice.
Over fifty mortals lost their lives because he didn’t care enough to vet them before letting them fight for a chance at the throne.
“My father didn’t want to waste time on a decision that wasn’t truly his to make, but then he met Shyla. She changed everything for him.”
My mother always said it was love at first sight between them.
I assume now that she meant lust at first sight.
“He chose Shyla and presented her as his queen. But the Strigoi weren’t finished with their tests. Ultimately, she failed.”
She more than failed; she drowned. Which I explain to Viviana next because she needs to understand the dangers of the trials.
“They tested her stamina by making her tread water for hours,” I mutter. “She drowned.”
I suspect it was exhaustion-related, as my father probably kept her up all night the evening before. Perhaps even used her that morning.
I don’t know for sure, and I’ll never ask. But if my need for Viviana is any indication, I can understand his hunger being the culprit for Shyla’s failure.
“He was… disappointed after her death. He almost canceled the trials entirely, stating that he wanted to try again after a new generation of humans revealed itself.” Meaning he wanted to wait another century or so to begin again.
“But Shyla’s parents suggested a new candidate. A candidate who became my mother.”
I explain that she was Shyla’s younger sister by two years and wasn’t originally chosen to participate. Then, after everything that happened, she was thrust into the spotlight and left with little choice in the matter.
“She won, I think, because my father revered her and refused to touch her. He felt guilty about what happened to Shyla, which is why I strongly suspect he was the reason for her fatigue in the trials.” I shake my head.
“Anyway, this history impacted my decisions. I’m not interested in a public spectacle. ”
That’s why I’ve always intended to present a candidate of my choosing to the Strigoi, only after I properly prepared the human for the trials ahead.
Alas, it appears my careful planning has been thwarted by my people.
“The Strigoi can adapt and change,” I tell her. “But some traditions are… resolute. And it seems they’ve felt my interest in you for a while now. According to Marius, they’re done waiting. We have less than a week to prepare.”
“And no choice in the matter,” Viviana adds, finally speaking after listening to me talk for… a while.
“I would apologize, but we’re destined. The moment I learned of your existence, our fate was set. That’s the only explanation for my mounting obsession.” I lean forward to cup her cheek, needing to feel her. “I’ve never desired another this way. You are meant to be mine.”
I refuse to believe otherwise.
My original assumption that I would just play with her and discard her was founded on my need not to hope.
She changed all that the moment she stepped into the dining room. Her scent. Her confidence. Her intelligence. Her lack of fear. They were all traits that left me spellbound. And it’s a spell I refuse to break free from.
“I’ve obsessed over you for years,” she confesses after a long beat of silence. “Your myth. Your existence.” She stares into my eyes. “I knew there would be consequences for finding you. But I never worried about them. I just… I had to find you.”
“Had you not come for me, I would have come for you,” I tell her. “The only reason I waited was because I wanted to see how far you would go to reach me.”
“Marius helped,” she says.
My lips twitch, the action feeling oddly familiar now—because of her. Her influence. Her presence. The way she makes me feel. I never smiled before. Now I seem unable to stop. “I thought he was doing me a favor. Turns out, his assistance was never about me—it was about you.”
“The first trial,” she replies.
“Yes.” Or maybe it happened the morning I sent him in to test her.
I’m not quite sure. And honestly, it doesn’t matter.
Focusing on the past is a waste of time.
We need to move forward. “He has told the Strigoi that I want a week to prepare you. That was yesterday, which means we have six days. Potentially less… if they refuse to wait.”
“Will he give us a warning?”
I shake my head. “I’m rather certain that his informing me of the first trial is the only version of a warning we will receive. My Strigoi are impatient to meet their future queen. They’ve been without one… for a while.”
She frowns. “So how does royalty work in your world?” she asks slowly. “I mean, you’re immortal and you live forever… right? Same with your mates?”
“Yes, Strigoi are immortal, as are our mates. But that doesn’t mean we can’t die.”
This is the part of my history that I never discuss with anyone. Not even Marius.
But Viviana deserves to know.
So I clear my throat and push forward with the truth.
“Royalty changes typically involve a monarch passing the title on to an heir via a ceremony. However, in my case, I inherited the title much earlier than expected. After my mother killed herself, my father went insane. And I was left in charge of all of Strigoi kind at the age of eighteen.”