Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
The morning light streaming through Raziel’s bedroom windows felt different now. Nadi watched the specks of dust dance in the golden beams, her head resting on his chest. Something fundamental had changed during the night—a line crossed that couldn’t be uncrossed.
She should have felt trapped. Should have been planning her escape. Not so long ago, that had been precisely what she had been doing. Instead, she found herself tracing lazy patterns on his skin, memorizing the feel of him.
He might be gone soon, after all.
And that feeling… hurt her.
Which was a whole different thing to reflect on.
“You’re thinking too loudly.” His voice was still rough with sleep. Slowly, he began combing his fingers through her hair, the gesture surprisingly gentle.
“Someone has to think in this relationship,” she teased, immediately regretting the word choice. Relationship. As if that was what this was.
His hand stilled. “Is that what we’re calling this now?”
She lifted her head to look at him, taking in the sharp angles of his face in the morning light. Even relaxed, he looked dangerous. A predator pretending to be domesticated. “I don’t know what to call it.”
“Neither do I.” Red eyes studied her. “But whatever it is, we have more pressing concerns today.”
Right. The wedding preparations. She would have to head over to Lana’s for continued “essential feminine consultations” regarding the ceremony. Another performance to maintain, another layer of deception to navigate.
“What time am I expected?” Nadi sat up, immediately missing the feeling of his body against hers.
“Within the hour.” Raziel’s eyes tracked her movements as she rose from the bed. “Remember what we discussed. Gather intelligence about the security arrangements, but don’t take unnecessary risks. And I mean that.”
“Yeah, yeah… no murdering anyone, I get it.” She nodded as she shifted into Monica’s appearance. The transformation felt heavier now, like putting on armor. “And you’ll be meeting with Mael?”
“Yes. He wants to discuss security. More likely, it’s about my new role in the family hierarchy. Seeing as it’s clear he views you as higher than me now.” Raziel’s smile was sharp as a blade. “I’m to be relegated to ceremonial duties only. A neutered attack dog, kept for show.”
The bitterness in his voice made something twist in her chest. Whatever else Raziel was, he was brilliant—his intelligence wasted on his family’s petty power games.
“Be careful,” she said, surprising herself with the genuine concern in her voice. “Don’t take unnecessary risks.”
He smirked. “I will do what I can, my little assassin.”
The endearment shouldn’t have warmed her as much as it did.
The wedding was being held in Volencia’s home.
It was a hive of activity when Nadi arrived.
Servants rushed about with flowers, fabric, and enough crystal to outfit a small palace.
The scent of expensive perfume and bloodwine hung heavy in the air, mixed with the aromas of baking bread and roasting meat.
“Monica!” Lana swept toward her, resplendent in a dressing gown of midnight-blue silk. Her blonde hair was elaborately pinned with pearls, and her smile was radiant. “Thank the moons you’re here. I’m positively drowning in last-minute decisions.”
Nadi allowed herself to be drawn into the chaos, noting the unfamiliar faces among the usual staff. Caterers, florists, musicians—all vetted by family security, no doubt, but still potential vulnerabilities in the Nostrom defenses.
“The flowers alone are driving me to distraction,” Lana continued, leading her through rooms filled with white roses, midnight-black orchids, and arrangements that probably cost more than most people earned in a decade.
“Zabriel insists on incorporating Rosov family traditions, but I refuse to have anything that clashes with Mother’s interminably specific demands.
Everything with her has to be crimson. Ugh! ”
They paused before an elaborate display of crimson roses interwoven with white jasmine. The symbolism wasn’t lost on Nadi—blood and innocence, vampire and human, predator and prey.
“It’s beautiful.” Diplomacy first. Always. “Very… meaningful.”
“Oh, you understand!” Lana clapped her hands together. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for. Zabriel sees only the practical considerations—security, political implications, guest accommodations. But a wedding should be about more than mere alliance-building, don’t you think?”
The genuine happiness in Lana’s voice caught Nadi off guard. This wasn’t the calculating Sweetheart Mistress she’d come to know. There was… real excitement in her voice. She studied Lana for a moment and there was actual—oh.
Oh.
“How long have you and Zabriel been together, Lana?” She had to tread carefully.
Lana’s smile turned secretive, and she stepped in close to Nadi to lower her voice.
“Longer than anyone suspects. Three years ago, at a gathering in the neutral territories, we got into a major row. He was supposed to be negotiating a trade agreement, and I was there representing Mother’s interests in the textile markets. ”
Lana laughed, the sound perfectly girlish.
“First, we were screaming at each other. Then, we nearly killed each other. Of course, then, we ended up having the most amazing sex of our lives. But what followed? It was amazing, Monica—we ended up talking until dawn, about everything except business.” That time, her laugh was one of disbelief.
As if the conversation was the truly unbelievable part. For her, it obviously was.
“And you’ve been seeing each other in secret since then?”
“Whenever we could manage it.” Lana’s expression grew wistful. “Stolen moments, clandestine meetings, coded letters. Terribly romantic, actually, though I wouldn’t recommend conducting a courtship under such circumstances.”
Oh, honey, if you only knew. Nadi figured she and Raziel probably had Lana and Zabriel beat. But she didn’t offer that information.
As they moved through the estate, Nadi made mental notes of the security preparations.
Guards at every entrance, additional patrols in the gardens, and what appeared to be new magical wards inscribed along the doorframes.
The Nostroms were taking no chances with the most politically significant wedding in recent memory.
“Tell me honestly,” Lana said as they entered what would serve as the bridal preparation chamber, “what do you think of the dress?”
The gown hanging from an ornate stand was a masterpiece of vampire craftsmanship. Layers of ivory silk and black lace created a dramatic silhouette, while tiny garnets sewn throughout the bodice caught the light like drops of blood. It was beautiful and sinister in equal measure.
Nadi studied it for a long moment. “It’s perfect for you.” And it really was. “Zabriel won’t be able to look away. Nor will anyone else, I imagine.”
“That’s rather the point.” Lana’s grin was predatory. “I intend to be utterly unforgettable.”
A soft knock at the door interrupted them. “Come,” Lana called.
A young woman entered, and Nadi almost instinctively froze.
It was a seamstress. But Nadi recognized her…
it was the woman from Braen’s club. There was no mistaking her.
The same woman with the nondescript appearance, dark hair, and same downcast eyes.
Only this time, she was wearing a measuring tape draped around her neck and her smock had a sea of pins tucked into it.
“Begging your pardon, my lady,” the seamstress said, her accent marking her as from the outer cities. “I need to make final adjustments to the bodice.”
It took everything that Nadi had not to stare at the woman in wide-eyed shock. She had to turn her head to cough into her arm. Her whole body shook with adrenaline.
The fae were here.
The fae were here. At the wedding.
Fuck. Fuck! No, no, no. Not now. Not now.
“Of course,” Lana gestured to the dress, then turned to Nadi with a thoughtful expression. “Monica, dear, would you mind helping me with something else first? I have a concern about tomorrow that requires your… unique perspective.”
“Hm? Of course. Not at all.” Nadi smiled, hoping she hid the panic well enough. But there was no telling if she was successful.
Lana led her from the preparation chamber to a smaller, more intimate sitting room. The walls were lined with portraits of Nostrom ancestors, their painted eyes seeming to follow their movements. “Please, sit.” She gestured to an ornate settee.
“What can I help you with?” Nadi settled into the plush velvet cushions, her whole body on high alert.
“Well.” Lana moved to a sideboard where crystal decanters caught the afternoon light.
“I’ve been thinking about tomorrow’s reception.
There will be so many guests, so many… opportunities for things to go wrong.
” She lifted one of the decanters, the liquid inside dark and viscous.
“I want to ensure that everyone in the family is at absolute peak performance. Including you.”
Nadi’s stomach clenched as she recognized what Lana was pouring. Fresh blood, still warm by the look of it.
“I know my brother has been negligent in ensuring you’re properly fed,” Lana continued, her tone light but her eyes sharp.
“He loves to play his games. I’m sure he makes you suck his cock before he’ll give you even a drop of blood.
But newly turned vampires need consistent nourishment, especially during times of stress.
And tomorrow will certainly be stressful.
” Lana approached with two crystal glasses, offering one to Nadi with a smile that never reached her magenta eyes. “To family solidarity.”
The test was obvious.
Lana knew “Monica” wasn’t really “Monica.” They’d been through this before already. Now, the question she was trying to learn the answer to was—did Raziel turn a spy into a vampire?
Or was there a deeper deception at work?