Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
The setting sun had finally given way to night as the wedding guests had settled into their silk-draped chairs like jeweled birds perching in an elaborate aviary. All the while, Nadi’s thoughts spun.
What was she supposed to do? The fae knew she was here. Knew what she was. Knew who she was playing. That required a level of knowledge and infiltration where the knock-on effects were staggering.
Either Raziel had told them, or Ivan had, or a third party—or parties—knew her secret.
Option one wasn’t impossible. Raziel might sell her out to save face with his siblings if he was trapped in a corner.
Option two, she would like to believe, but as much as she would loathe to admit it, she had grown to appreciate the bodyguard.
He wasn’t the kind to double-cross someone.
Option three, however? Option three was the most likely. Someone else knew. And that someone was a dangerous scenario. Because it was likely one of their would-be targets. And that meant… everything was over.
And it had been over before they had walked into the wedding.
Which meant they had walked into a trap.
Nadi was seated in the front row, next to an empty chair meant for Raziel as she picked at the edge of the program for the wedding. Raziel wasn’t meant to take his seat in the audience—he would simply wait backstage for Mael to slip the knife between his ribs.
Or at least, that had been the plan. Before everything had gone wrong.
Her assignment had been to make sure that Mael wouldn’t be able to leave from the front aisle instead.
But now everything was fucked, and she didn’t know what to do. Except sit there and panic and try to think.
She should run. But not with Volencia watching her.
All eyes would see her get up and make a hasty retreat.
The other voice in her head told her it didn’t matter—she should head for the nearest exit, change her face, and disappear back into the Wild where she belonged.
She’d be alive, and that was better than nothing.
The two moons hung in the darkening sky like mismatched eyes. Father moon full and bright, and Mother moon a darker black against a purple-blue backdrop of stars.
Torches had been lit around the perimeter of the pavilion, their flames dancing in the gentle evening breeze and casting shifting shadows across the white silk panels overhead.
Looking up, she caught sight of Raziel. He was trying to make his way to her.
But he couldn’t just march through the rows, not without causing a scene.
Their eyes met briefly across the crowd, and she caught the tension in his expression.
Something had changed during his conversation with Mael—she could read it in the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his hand rested just inside his jacket.
Shit. He knew too. He was trying to get to her to warn her.
Their shared expressions were brief but said it all to each other.
We’re dead, aren’t we? Nadi started to stand, ready to say Fuck it to all the pomp and circumstance and just run for the horizon. But she never got a chance.
“Sit down, you hussy,” Volencia hissed at her between her teeth. “Or I will have you shot here and now and finish the job that worthless son of mine couldn’t.”
Regardless of whatever might come of this debacle, Nadi deeply hoped she got the chance to murder that bitch. Biting back the deeply inappropriate slew of obscenities she wanted to call the woman, Nadi slowly settled back into her chair.
The string quartet began tuning their instruments in preparation for the processional, when a commotion near the main entrance drew everyone’s attention.
Murmurs rippled through the assembled guests as an ornate litter appeared, carried by four vampires in ceremonial dress, with golden masks concealing their faces.
The litter itself was a masterwork of craftsmanship from a bygone era—ebony wood inlaid with gold and garnets, its sides draped with heavy black silk that completely concealed its occupant. The carriers moved with supernatural grace, their faces solemn as they approached the pavilion.
“By the moons,” whispered an elderly vampire seated nearby. “Is that…?”
“It can’t be,” another guest breathed. “She hasn’t appeared in public for centuries.”
But Nadi could feel the weight of ancient power emanating from the veiled litter, a presence so old and potent that it made everything in her want to hiss like a feral yupui and crawl under the furniture. Whoever was inside that conveyance was no ordinary vampire.
The carriers brought the litter to a halt near the altar, positioning it so that its hidden occupant would have a perfect view of the ceremony. The gathered guests had fallen into complete silence, even the children clearly sensing the gravity of this unexpected arrival.
With practiced motions, the carriers drew back the heavy black silk drapes to reveal sheer ones that did nothing to reveal anything but a silhouette of a figure within, seated on a chaise longue.
Nadi couldn’t make out any details except that the woman had long hair and was thin in frame.
A voice emerged from within the litter—female, melodious, but carrying an undertone of such authority that it seemed to resonate in Nadi’s bones. It had the cadence of someone accustomed to absolute obedience.
“My children,” the voice said, and despite the fabric barriers, every word carried clearly through the evening air. “How lovely to see you all gathered for such a joyous occasion.”
Volencia rose from her seat in the front row, her face a mask of shocked reverence. “Mother. You honor us with your presence.”
Mother. Nadi’s blood turned cold as understanding dawned. Lilivra. The ancient vampire matriarch, the one whose portrait dominated the chapel at the ruined estate.
The woman who forged the alliance that drove the fae into exile.
The original vampire.
“The honor is mine, dearest Volencia,” Lilivra’s voice continued. “It has been far too long since I witnessed such a momentous union. Today will indeed be historic for all of Runne—a day that will be remembered for generations to come.”
Her words carried weight beyond their surface meaning, as if she possessed knowledge of events yet to unfold. Nadi felt a chill that had nothing to do with the evening air.
“Raziel, my child,” Lilivra’s voice called out, and every head turned toward where he stood among the security detail. “Come closer. I would speak with you, my grandson.”
A murmur went through the crowd. Nadi didn’t miss how Mael glanced at Raziel with thinly concealed rage.
Nadi watched as Raziel approached the litter, his movements careful and controlled. Even from a distance, she could see the tension in his frame as he drew near to his legendary ancestor.
“You have grown strong, grandson,” Lilivra said, her voice carrying a note of what might have been approval. “The trials you have endured have forged you into exactly what you were meant to be.”
“Thank you, Grandmother.” Raziel’s voice was steady, but Nadi caught the underlying current of unease.
“Do you remember,” Lilivra continued, “the words I spoke to you on the first day you came to see me? When you were still a frightened child, seeking answers about your destiny?”
A long pause. “I remember.”
“Good. Today, your true path will finally begin.” The silk panels rustled as if their hidden occupant had shifted position. “The serpent must shed its skin to become something greater. Remember that, when the pain begins.”
The cryptic exchange left Nadi’s mind racing. What had Lilivra told Raziel all those years ago? And why did her presence here feel less like a blessing and more like the tolling of a funeral bell?
“Now then,” Lilivra’s voice returned to its earlier warmth, “let us witness this beautiful union. The joining of our house with the Rosovs marks the beginning of a new age.”
Volencia returned to her seat, though Nadi noticed her hands trembling slightly as she smoothed her dark skirts. Around the pavilion, guests exchanged nervous glances, clearly unsettled by the ancient vampire’s unexpected appearance and ominous words.
The quartet began their processional melody, signaling that the ceremony was about to begin despite the disruption. A hush fell over the assembled guests as all attention turned toward the main pavilion entrance where the bridal party would emerge.
“Nervous, beautiful?”
The voice came from directly behind her, and Nadi’s blood turned to ice. She knew that voice, but it wasn’t Lana’s sweet tones. This was deeper, more resonant—Mael’s distinctive rumble pitched low for her ears alone.
“The ceremony is beautiful,” Nadi corrected, not turning to look at him. “Lana looks radiant.”
“She does indeed.” Mael moved to sit in the chair beside her, the one meant for Raziel, his massive frame blocking her view of the nearest exit. “Though I suspect you appreciate the significance of tonight more than most of our guests do.”
Something in his tone made Nadi’s skin crawl. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Oh, but I think you do, Nadi.”
The name hit like a punch to the gut. Nadi’s hands clenched in her lap, fighting every instinct that screamed at her to run, to fight, to do anything except sit there like a trapped animal.
“I’m sorry?” she whispered, her voice carefully modulated to sound confused rather than terrified.
“Please.” Mael’s hand settled on her knee.
His thumb began to run a slow circle along her skin over the sheer fabric of her stockings.
“We’re past the point of pretense now, aren’t we?
I know exactly who you are. Nadi of the Iltani clan.
Shapeshifter. Assassin. The woman who’s been sleeping in my brother’s bed while plotting his death.
You killed your own uncle to get to us. I’m not upset. Anything but. I’m in awe.”