Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
JULIET
I glance at my husband sitting on the carriage bench beside me. I wonder how much longer it will be until we reach Nightshade. We’ve been traveling for at least five hours and I’m already starting to feel restless. “Are we almost there?”
“We’re less than an hour from the Dark Gate,” Valaric replies, referring to one of the dozens of fixed portal gates scattered throughout Morrowynd. “Once we pass through, it should be less than a half hour to the manor.”
The carriage hits a bump, and I nearly lose my seat, but Valaric’s strong arms wrap around my waist, steadying me. He gently tucks me into his side, curling a wing around my shoulder.
“Better?” He arches a questioning brow.
“Much,” I reply, my cheeks heating under the scrutiny of his piercing gaze. “Thank you.”
“Would you like me to let you go?” he asks, already loosening his grip.
I love that he asks, not wanting me to ever feel uncomfortable. But the truth is, I enjoy being so close to him. Softly, I bite my lower lip. “No.”
Valaric tightens his hold again, and I revel in the warmth radiating from his body and his intoxicating scent. How is it possible to feel this way in such a short amount of time? Jonathan and I courted for over six months, and I never felt anything like this.
Tired from being stuck in the carriage for so long, I’m already drifting off to sleep when Valaric gently touches my face. “We’re almost to the Dark Gate.”
A knot forms in my stomach. Elsie explained that Dark Gates are similar to portals. I asked Valaric to wake me when we reached it, because I didn’t want to sleep while we passed through. I’m excited to see it. I can still hardly believe such things are real. But I’m also nervous because I’ve heard tales about people going through damaged portals and being lost forever. A small shudder runs through me.
Valaric turns to me. “Are you all right?”
“Just a bit anxious.” I pat his arm around my waist. “I’ve never been through a Dark Gate before.”
He frowns. “We passed through one to get to the castle from your home.”
“Yes, but I was unconscious then, so I do not remember it.”
“Everything will go dark for a moment once we enter, but that is all,” he reassures me. “And then we are out the other side and it is only a few miles’ travel to Nightshade from there.”
“Elsie said the Gates are similar to portals.”
He nods. “They were created by the Ancient Ones.”
“Ancient… Ones?”
“The Ancient Ones were the original Vampires that used to inhabit these lands. They’re all gone now, but there are dozens of their ancient gates still spread throughout Morrowynd. We use our blood magic to activate them.”
As if on cue, Eben taps on the roof and calls out. “We’re approaching the Gate.”
The carriage comes to a full stop, and Valaric turns to me. “I must activate the Gate. I’ll be right back.”
I follow him out of the carriage, curious to see what he’ll do.
The Dark Gate is tall and imposing, an ancient archway carved from obsidian stone. Intricate glowing purple runes and glyphs are etched into its surface, and black mist swirls in the center like smoke.
Statues of ancient Vampire knights, carved from dark stone, stand on either side of the gate like eternal guards, their eyes gleaming with an eerie silver light.
Valaric raises his arms and begins to move his hands. I watch in wonder as he uses magic to draw glowing purple runes in the air, weaving them together until they form a glowing, swirling circle of floating symbols and complex patterns.
He pushes the circle toward the gate. The black mist in the center wraps around it and then expands outward to touch the sides, creating a glowing lavender veil of magic. He draws another rune in the air and it ripples across the shimmering surface like a pebble dropped in a still pond, revealing an image of a wide road cut through a field, and a shining city in the distance.
“Is that—”
“The city of Nightshade,” Valaric answers. He turns to me. “Before we pass through, give me your arm.”
I hold it out, and he gently wraps his hand around my wrist, turning my palm up to face him.
“I’m going to give you a rune,” he explains. “If you pass through any Dark Gate in Morrowynd, it will return you to this spot.”
“Why are you giving this to me?”
His eyes flick up to mine. “If anything were to happen, I want to make sure you can still access the gate to return home.”
Worry prickles my skin. “Are you worried someone will—”
“It’s just a precaution,” he explains. “Eben already has one as well.”
“Will it hurt?”
“No.”
Magic crackles across his fingers like lightning. I watch in wonder as he traces the tip of one claw across my palm, leaving behind a purple rune that glows brightly before fading into my skin.
His crimson eyes flick up to mine. “To activate the gate all you must do is press your palm to the stone.”
I nod. “Thank you.” I only pray I never have to use it, because doing so would mean something has happened to my husband.
He helps me back into the carriage. It lurches forward, and the world goes black. My stomach drops, and I blink several times as if that will somehow magically restore my vision.
Valaric threads his fingers through mine and just that small gesture anchors me, reassuring me that I’m not alone in this strange void. It feels like forever before the darkness recedes and we’re on the other side.
I glance out the window and see the bright lights in the distance once more. It’s quite a bit warmer here and the ground is not covered with snow.
“Spring has already come to this part of Morrowynd.” Valaric gestures out the carriage window. “And on the other side of Nightshade”—he points at something his Vampire eyes can see but mine cannot—“is the Shadow Sea. Our manor sits on the beachfront, along the outskirts of the city.”
I don’t miss how he refers to his manor as ‘ours.’ A faint smile curves my lips. Even if it is rather early in our relationship, he does, at least, consider us true partners in this marriage.
“Elsie said that I should make sure your sigil is easily visible on my clothing while we’re here.”
“It is our sigil,” he says, gently cupping my jaw. Delicious warmth ripples through me as he brushes his thumb across my cheek. “It will signify your status to others.”
I start to ask why that’s so important, but the sound of running water makes me glance outside again as we cross a wide bridge. I press my face against the cool glass of the window, staring in amazement as we pass through a formidable set of metal gates into the city.
Nightshade is one of Morrowynd’s largest cities—a hub of commerce and trade. I’ve heard it referred to as the jewel of the Vampire kingdom, and as we travel through its streets, I do not think that the nickname is undeserved.
Nestled along the coastline of the Shadow Sea, the city sparkles like a brilliant gemstone against the dark waters. Elegant lamp posts line the streets, illuminating the cobblestone paths and the ancient, ivy-covered buildings in a golden glow.
It’s the middle of the night and the city is bustling with activity. Although I know we are in Morrowynd, it is still shocking to see so many Vampires all in one place. Their crimson eyes are unnerving as they track our carriage. I notice several of them have a human companion at their side, mostly women, but there are a few men.
Upon closer inspection, I notice their clothing is embroidered with various designs and sigils, similar to mine but different. An indication of who they are with, or—I swallow hard—who they belong to. Several of the humans have bite marks on their necks, and I wonder how many of them are like me—wed to a Vampire—and how many are bloodsworn instead.
The mere thought makes me press closer into Valaric’s side as the carriage continues along the road, tracing the edge of the coastline. I gaze out at the ocean in wonder as moonlight ripples over the water like liquid silver. The dull roar of the sea fills the air, as waves crash against the shore.
“There is Mysthaven Manor.” Valaric gestures to the magnificent structure ahead. Elegant and imposing, it sits on the cliff, overlooking the water. It appears more like a small castle than a manor with stone walls that stretch up toward the starry sky.
We pass through a large gate and into a beautiful courtyard full of tall bushes and flowering plants. Thick vines climb the wall, lined with glowing white and pink rose-like flowers that twinkle like starlight, the same as the ones in the castle gardens, back home. It overlooks the ocean, offering a breathtaking view.
The carriage comes to a stop in front of the manor. When I step outside, the crisp, salted breeze catches my hair, billowing my dress around my ankles.
Valaric takes my hand and leads me inside. Our footsteps echo on the polished stone floors as he guides me through the grandiose entryway and into the main living area with a large fireplace against the opposite wall. On either side of it are floor-to-ceiling windows framed with velvet blue curtains facing the sea.
Moonlight spills in from outside as Valaric leads me down the ornate hallways. The décor is both simple and elegant, with tapestries and furniture that appears plush and inviting.
For such a large place, it’s strange that there are not any staff to receive us. “Does anyone stay here while you are away?”
“My housekeeper, Reyla, and her son, Lysander.”
As if speaking their names has somehow conjured them, a woman walks into the room. She bows low. “Lord Greyvale, it is good to have you here again.”
“Thank you, Reyla. It’s good to be back.” He gestures to me. “This is my bride, Lady Juliet Greyvale.”
Her brown eyes sweep to mine and she bows again. “It is lovely to meet you, Lady Greyvale.”
I’m surprised to note she is human. Her dark brown hair is threaded through with silver and tied in a tight bun atop her head. The fine lines around her eyes and mouth suggest she smiles often, and something about her demeanor puts me instantly at ease. “You may call me Juliet.”
“Juliet.” She regards me warmly. “What a lovely name.”
“Are the main rooms prepared?” Valaric asks.
“Yes, my Lord.”
A man walks up beside her, and I still when I notice his blood red eyes, ashen complexion, pointed ears, and chin-length hair that starts as black at the scalp and fades into silvery-white ends.
“This is my son, Lysander,” Reyla says proudly.
He bows low in response.
Lysander is a Vampire and his mother is human. I would like to know their story, but I bite back my questions, deciding it would probably be rude to inquire since I only just met them.
Valaric steps closer and curls his arm around my waist. “This is my wife, Lady Juliet Greyvale.”
“Congratulations,” Lysander replies, a genuine smile on his face. “Aerlyx didn’t say anything about you taking a wife.”
I look at Valaric. “Who is Aerlyx?”
“He’s an Incubus—the person we have come here to meet.”
I’ve never seen an Incubus, but I’ve heard they are nothing but trouble and devious as well. Their magic is known to be strong. They use it to entice—to tempt and seduce. It’s rumored that none can resist their charms. One of my father’s friends claimed his daughter nearly fell prey to one. She barely escaped his clutches last season with her reputation intact.
Surely, much of what I know of their kind must be myth, because I doubt Valaric would want me near one if even half of what I have heard is true.
Valaric turns to Lysander. “Do you know where he is?”
“You know Aerlyx.” He shrugs. “He’s probably at the tavern in the square.”
Valaric runs his hand through his hair in frustration. “Of course he is.”
“Why did you come to meet with him?” I ask.
“Incubi are powerful creatures, and Aerlyx is known for his skills in creating protective spells,” Valaric explains. “I want him to strengthen the wards around the castle and our other estates, including this one.”
Given what I’ve heard of Incubi, I can’t help but have doubts. “And… you’re sure he will do it? That he won’t try to”—I hesitate, trying to find the right word before finally offering—“manipulate you somehow instead?”
“He owes me a life debt,” Valaric replies somewhat cryptically.
I’m about to ask for more details, but he interrupts. “Would you like to see your rooms?”
I decide to ask him more about Aerlyx later, when we’re alone. “Yes.”
Valaric guides me down a long hallway and to a set of double doors. He pushes them open, revealing a grand bedroom. Moonlight streams in through a wall of windows that looks out onto the beach, the waves crashing along the shore in a constant and steady rhythm. “Do you like it?” he asks, and I notice he seems a bit unsure of himself, but I don’t understand why.
I walk toward the window, completely captivated by the beautiful view. “It’s lovely.”
The tension leaves his shoulders as he gives me a faint smile. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“I’m fine.”
He shifts his gaze to the outside. “While we are visiting, if you wish to travel during the daytime, please make sure Eben goes with you.”
I frown. “Do you have enemies here?”
“That is… not an easy question to answer,” he replies a bit hesitantly. Taking a small step closer, he clasps my hands in his. “Vampires are very covetous creatures. I do not want to risk another sending their day guardian to try to lure you away.”
Although our relationship is still relatively new, I’m both shocked and a bit hurt that he would doubt my commitment to him and to our marriage. Insulted, I meet his gaze evenly. “I did not make our vows lightly. You are my husband. I would not allow anyone to lure me from your side, Valaric.”
Surprise flickers briefly across his expression at my anger. He slips his arm around my waist and tugs me closer. Cupping my chin, he tips my face up to his. “I did not mean to imply that the fault would be yours. I only meant to warn you to be wary.
“It is not unheard of for a Vampire to use their day guardians to ensnare someone for them. Once they are in their grasp, it can be difficult to escape. My kind have powers of compulsion. And while some humans are immune, they are few and far between.”
“Compulsion?” This is the first time he’s mentioned this. I’d heard stories, but thought they were mere rumors. Now, I find myself wondering. “Have you ever used this power on me?”
“Never,” he states firmly. “I would never do such a thing to you.”
“But you believe others might?” I venture. “Even though we are married?”
He brushes his thumb across my lower lip as his gaze drops to the puncture marks on my neck. “I have partaken of your blood, but you have not yet been marked and claimed.”
“Yes, I have.” I blink up at him. “I am your wife, and I have your mark on my neck.”
“A Vampire marks someone by injecting them with enough of his venom to alter their scent,” he explains as he runs his fingers gently through my hair before tracing them along my neck. The tips of his claws skim over my skin, sending a small shiver of pleasure down my spine. “It alerts others that they have been claimed.”
He drops his gaze to my chest and rests his palm directly over my beating heart. “The claiming mark is usually made here.”
“Why not do this?” My words come out breathless. “We’re married. You are my husband. Why not mark and claim me if that is the way of your people?”
His eyes flare with unmistakable hunger. “Among other reasons, our venom can be a potent aphrodisiac. If I gave you that much, it could make you desire something you may not truly want just yet.”
My pulse pounds. The times he’s already taken my blood, my entire body was aflame with need unlike anything I’ve ever known. I cannot imagine how much more intense the experience would be with his venom.
Valaric told me when we first wed that he would not touch me unless I asked. I wasn’t ready then, but now… I want so much to kiss him again, but when I reach for him, he pulls away and takes a small step back. “I’ll leave you to rest.”
He starts for the door, but I call out. “Wait.”
He spins to face me with a questioning look.
“I’m not tired. You don’t have to leave. We could”—I cast about for any reason to keep him here before settling upon—“have some tea perhaps.”
Valaric crosses the room in three steps and takes my hand, placing a tender kiss on the back of my knuckles. “I would love to, but I should probably find Aerlyx sooner rather than later.” He sighs heavily. “Preferably before he makes any questionable decisions or new enemies.”
I laugh. Now I really want to know more about this mysterious Incubus. “Can I come with you?”
His eyes sweep to the sigil sewn into my cloak, indecision written across his features. “You are not tired?”
“No.”
Nightshade is rumored to be one of the most beautiful cities in the seven realms. It is several hours until dawn, and I’m eager to explore. I’m especially interested in learning more about Valaric’s people and how they live.
“I don’t like the idea of taking you to the tavern.” He frowns. “The crowd can be a bit… rough.”
I’ve been in very few taverns before, and the ones I have reeked of stale beer and sweat. I don’t particularly want to go into the establishment itself, I simply want to spend more time with my husband and see some of the city. I’m also curious to meet Aerlyx. “What if I wait outside in the carriage?”
His brow furrows as if in deep contemplation. Worried he’ll put up some sort of resistance, I quickly add. “I have our sigil sewn on my cloak, but not on my dresses. Perhaps you could take me to a clothier to have them sew our sigil on the clothes I brought with me. You could return for me after you’ve located your friend.”
“All right,” he agrees. “There is a clothier across from the tavern. She caters to all species without prejudice. I’ll take you there.”
It doesn’t take long to reach the city square. In the center is a large seven tier fountain. Water spills over each level before collecting in a pool at the base and flowing into a small river that runs through the city.
At least half a dozen benches surround it, and I notice a few couples sitting together as they watch their children play near the edge of the water, floating miniature sailboats along the gentle current.
This is the first time I’ve ever seen Vampire children. They do not look that much different from humans. A smile tugs at my lips at their tiny fangs and little black claws, and I find myself wondering if a child from our union would look more like Valaric or like me.
Several buildings line the walkways, their outer walls covered by climbing vines with green leaves and tiny white, glowing flowers. Eben parks the carriage just outside the clothier’s shop. When Valaric helps me out, the raucous sounds of laughter and music assault my ears from the tavern across the way.
Ignoring it, Valaric offers me his arm and then leads me toward the entrance.
“Wait,” I tell him. “I left my dresses in the carriage.”
“I’ll fetch them in a moment,” he replies, guiding me into the building.
The minute we enter, a Vampire approaches. “It’s lovely to see you again, Lord Greyvale,” she says warmly.
Another Vampire walks toward us, but she waves him away. “It’s all right, Gregor. I will take care of these customers.”
Her gaze drifts to me and the sigil on my cloak, her eyes widening slightly.
“Lygra,” Valaric begins. “This is my true wife, Lady Juliet Greyvale. She is in need of your services.”
Lygra’s eyebrows go up in surprise a moment before she flashes a brilliant smile. “Welcome to my shop.” She bows low. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Greyvale.”
She is stunningly beautiful. Her long hair is a gorgeous blue color at the roots that fades into silvery-white ends, with lips painted the same shade as her blood red eyes that rake over my form in obvious appraisal.
She smiles at me, revealing two pointed fangs that on her somehow seem delicate and cute instead of intimidating. “Please tell me you are in need of a wardrobe, because I know just the material to bring out those lovely green eyes of yours.”
“She is,” Valaric says beside me.
I am? I glance at my husband, but his expression is impassive. I thought we were just here to have the Greyvale sigil sewn into dresses I already own.
Doubt fills me. Perhaps my clothes are not fine enough for him. Maybe he finds them too simple for the wife of someone of his station.
As if sensing my troubled thoughts, he turns to me. “It will be cold for the next few weeks, back at the castle, until spring arrives. I thought you might wish to purchase warmer clothing while we’re here.”
Relief fills me. He’s simply being considerate and caring. Like he always is with me. “All right. I’ll pick out a few things.”
The clothier turns to me. “If you’ll please come with me to the back, I will take your measurements and show you my selections.”
Before I can follow her, Valaric takes my hand. “I will return shortly.” He presses a tender kiss to my knuckles. “Purchase as many outfits as you wish.” He looks at the clothier. “My wife will need the Greyvale sigil sewn into each item. And make certain it is easily visible.”
“Of course.” She dips her chin in a subtle nod.
Valaric leaves and she leads me to the back of the store.
After she takes my measurements, she brings out several bolts of fabric in beautiful and vibrant shades of color. The material is luxurious and soft beneath my fingers.
“I can add a fur liner to this.” Lygra gestures to one of the swaths. “And I can even—”
“Where is the owner of this shop?” a booming voice calls out. “I am Lord Stryker of Blackthorne, and I demand to see her at once.”
Lygra’s head snaps toward the doors. “Excuse me a moment,” she says and then quickly rushes to the front of the building.
I trail behind her, curious to see who is yelling and why.
A Vampire steps forward. His red eyes bleed into black as he watches Lygra walk toward him, his wings twitching beneath his cape in obvious irritation. His hair is the same shade as Valaric’s but it’s much longer and tied at the base of his neck by a delicate golden chain with teardrop shaped rubies on the ends.
“Lord Stryker,” she says, stepping between him and an obviously flustered Gregor. “How can I help you today?”
Lygra nudges Gregor, and he quickly leaves, heading toward the back of the shop.
Lord Blackthorne steps to one side, and my jaw drops involuntarily as I notice a human woman behind him.
She has light brown hair, and she’s dressed in a dark blue dress that matches his cape, tunic and pants. The sigil of a raven is easily visible, embroidered on her corset in silver thread.
She worries her bottom lip as she gazes around the shop. Her brown eyes meet mine and a faint smile crests her lips, but it quickly disappears as the Vampire grips her arm and urges her forward.
“We are hosting a ball next Saturday, Lygra. My wife needs a new dress for the occasion. Can you have it done before then?”
“Of course, Lord Blackthorne,” Lygra replies before turning her attention to the woman. “What did you have in mind, my Lady?”
Before the woman can answer, her Vampire husband tugs on her arm again, turning her to one side. “Something gathered at the waist here,” he says, gesturing to his wife. “With a low-cut neckline and a deep v along the back.”
My jaw slackens as he turns his wife this way and that, as if she were a doll he was trying to dress up instead of a human being. Her cheeks turn beet red as he describes the dress he wants made. It sounds positively scandalous.
When he’s finished, he turns to Lygra. “What of the other dress?”
“It is finished, Lord Stryker.” She plasters a smile on her face and then turns to his wife, her expression softening. “If you would please follow me, we can fit it in the back and see if any adjustments need to be made.”
Lord Blackthorne remains near the front of the shop while Lygra guides her to the back. When they reach me, Lygra introduces us. “Lady Maryl, this is Lady Juliet Greyvale.”
It’s strange that Lygra does not use Lady Maryl’s full title, forgetting to add Blackthorne at the end of her name. Maryl’s eyes fly to the sigil on my cloak before returning to my face. She offers me a polite smile and then dips her chin in a subtle bow. “It is lovely to meet you, Lady Greyvale.”
“And you as well, Lady Blackthorne,” I reply.
Her expression falters. “Just Maryl,” she corrects me. “Despite Lygra’s kindness in referring to me as such, I am not a true Lady.”
I frown. “But you are married to Lord Stryker, are you not?”
“Yes, my Lady,” she replies meekly. “But… I am his blood wife, not his true wife.” She looks down at her hands. “His true wife is Lady Davara Blackthorne.”
My brows rise. He has a true wife and a blood wife?
“I am his bloodsworn,” she adds.
I’m unsure how to respond. Before I can think of anything, she continues. “That color will be beautiful on you, Lady Greyvale.” She points to the pale green silken fabric that Lygra has set aside for me.
“Thank you. You may call me Juliet.”
Maryl gives me a timid smile. “And you may call me Maryl.”
Lygra goes between the two of us, pins held carefully between her lips as she makes adjustments to Maryl’s dress and then cuts fabric to drape around me for a pattern.
When Lygra goes to the back to retrieve something, Maryl turns to me. “I have not seen you before. Are you newly wed?”
“Yes.”
“And you are the true wife of Lord Greyvale?”
I nod, and she stares at me as if she cannot believe what I’ve just said.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Forgive me.” She looks down at her hands. “It’s just that… it’s rare for them to take a human as their true wife.”
“Is it?”
She nods. “You’re the first one I’ve met. Is he… kind, your Lord husband?” she asks a bit cautiously.
“Very.”
Maryl gives me a sad smile. “You are fortunate then.”
“Yours is not?” I whisper, careful to make sure I’m not overheard.
“I cannot complain,” she replies, but I don’t miss the sadness that flits briefly across her expression. “He provides for me and I have all that I need. And I am fortunate,” she continues. “Lord Stryker rarely allows anyone else to feed upon me. He does not pass me around at parties as I’ve seen other Vampires do with their bloodsworn.”
Horror trips my heart, and I struggle to keep my expression neutral.
Maryl changes the subject. “Do you live nearby?”
“We live near Corvania,” I reply, my mind still reeling from what she’s told me. “But we are visiting. My husband has an estate near the sea.”
“I’ve seen it,” Maryl says. “Mysthaven is just down the road from Darkhall Manor, Lord Stryker’s estate.”
“Then we are practically neighbors.” I offer her a friendly smile and then gently take her hand. It is a bit overly familiar of me, but I cannot help it. My heart aches for this poor woman. I wish I could help her, but I don’t know how. So, instead, I do the only thing I can and offer her kindness. “Perhaps you might join me for tea while we are still in town?”
“Thank you for the invitation.” Her eyes brighten with tears as she gently squeezes my hand in return. “I would like that very much.”
Lygra comes back and finishes up with her adjustments to Maryl’s dress before turning to me. “Have you decided which fabrics you like best?”
There are at least a dozen bolts of luxurious fabric laid out on the table before me. They are all so beautiful, I’m not sure how to pick. I trace my fingers over the various materials with a soft sigh. “They are all so lovely, it is difficult to choose.”
“Then, how about a dress made from each one?” Valaric’s smooth, deep voice says from behind me.
I spin back to face him. My heart flutters as his eyes meet mine. “It’s too much. I do not need so many—”
“Nonsense.” He turns his attention to Lygra. “We’d like one dress made from each.”
Her face lights up. “Of course, Lord Greyvale.”
“And add a few winter cloaks as well,” he instructs. “Make certain the Greyvale sigil is prominent upon each item.”
She nods. “Of course.”
I open my mouth to thank him, but Lord Blackthorne walks up beside him. “Lord Greyvale, I did not realize you were in town.”
Valaric’s face becomes a hard mask, his entire posture rigid as he straightens and turns toward Lord Stryker. “We just arrived this evening.”
“Ah,” Stryker says. He steps closer, eyeing me like a hawk sizing up a mouse. “I see you’ve acquired a blood wife. Maryl, come!” he yells, snapping his fingers as if she were a pet.
She rushes to his side, her eyes downcast.
“This is my blood wife, Maryl.” He places one claw-tipped finger under her chin, tipping her face up. “Let him look at you, sweetling.”
He turns to me and licks his lips, his eyes going black. “Yours looks positively delicious, Valaric. Perhaps you might entertain the idea of a trade?” He flicks his gaze to my husband. “It would only be for a few nights, of course.”
Valaric immediately steps between us, spreading his wings wide to shield me. “You will mind your words, Stryker.” He growls low in his throat. “Lady Juliet Greyvale is my true wife.”
Stryker’s head jerks back. “You have taken a human as your true wife ? I’ve never heard of such a thing. At least… not within the Great Houses.”
His gaze sweeps to me again, a menacing gleam in his eyes before he turns his attention back to Valaric. “We’re hosting a ball at Darkhall Manor next Saturday. If I’d known you would be in town, I would have issued a formal invitation. As it is, I would like to invite you personally to attend. You and Lady Greyvale.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” my husband replies, but his tone implies he is anything but grateful.
Valaric offers me his arm, and I loop mine through his. We start to leave, but Stryker moves with inhuman speed and appears in front of me.
Lord Blackthorne gives me a sinister smile as he takes my hand. He lifts it to his lips and places a kiss to the back of my knuckles.
Dread trickles down my spine as his nostrils flare and his eyes become twin pools of darkness. “Your scent is absolutely divine.” Wicked delight dances across his features. “It is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Lady Greyvale. And I look forward to getting to know you much more intimately.”
Valaric growls low in warning, and Stryker relinquishes my hand.
We head for the door and Stryker calls out. “I’ll tell Davara to expect you both at the ball.”
Valaric’s entire body is bristling with anger as we leave the clothier’s and heads straight for the carriage.
“Trouble?” Eben asks, his pointed ears trained toward the shop.
“That remains to be seen,” Valaric replies darkly. “Let’s go home.”