Chapter 52
CHAPTER 52
JULIET
P rince Raine’s chambers are the epitome of elegant luxury. A hint of rose oil and lavender hangs in the air. Heavy burgundy curtains are tied open at the windows, offering a wide view of the ocean.
Thick carpets cover the stone floors, the same burgundy color as the drapes. Tapestries with seasonal landscapes and forest scenes decorate the space. A fire crackles in the hearth across the way, casting flickering shadows over the ornate sofa and chairs that sit before it.
Along the left wall is a large four-poster bed, covered with thick black and gray furs. I glance at Alayna, wondering if she shares these chambers with the prince or if she sleeps elsewhere.
Alayna walks to the window, and I join her as we look out at the sea. Shimmering moonlight spreads across the water as the waves crash against the rocks along the cliff wall below.
Although I’m separated from Valaric, I’m not afraid. Outside the doors, Eben stands watch with Prince Raine’s guards, and I’m sure Aerlyx is somewhere nearby, concealed in the shadows.
We left Damar in the ballroom. After all his insistence that we remain together, I’m sure he’s probably worried.
“Maryl told me about you,” she says, breaking the silence.
My thoughts return to my meeting with her at the clothier. I’ve been so worried for Maryl ever since then. “What did she say?”
“That you were kind and that Lord Greyvale was good to you.”
A faint smile curls my mouth as I think of my husband. “He is.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask about her treatment at the hands of the prince, but I worry she may find it rude. After all, we’ve only just met.
“Is it true?” Her blue eyes search mine. “Does he treat you well?”
“Yes.”
As I gaze out the window, I think of Valaric. I don’t know what the prince wants from him, and I’m not sure he’s someone we can trust. But as I look at Alayna, I realize that I have an opportunity to find out what sort of man he is, which may be invaluable information for my husband.
Casting propriety aside, I turn back to Alayna. “What are you to the prince?”
“I’m his bloodsworn,” she replies in a practiced way that tells me this isn’t the first time someone has asked her this question.
“Forgive me.” I swallow hard. “It’s just… it seems like you may be something more to him.”
Worry flashes behind her eyes. “You are mistaken. I am bloodsworn to him. Nothing more.”
I’d be inclined to believe her if I hadn’t seen them together in the gardens. The prince’s concern for her was palpable in his every glance and action. My gaze drops to the low-cut neckline of her dress and the puncture marks atop her left breast, directly over her heart. “You carry his mark.”
“Because I am his.” Her gaze meets mine evenly. “I want to ask you something, but I do not wish to offend.”
“What is it?”
“Lord Greyvale says you are his true wife, and yet… he has not claimed you in the ways of their people. He hasn’t given you his venom, to change your scent, binding you to him. Most Vampires do this to their bloodsworn, but you are his mate.” Her eyes search mine. “To be marked is to be claimed. And to be claimed is to be safe… from the others. Why have you both hesitated to take this step?”
Her pointed question unnerves me because I don’t know the answer to this either. Doubt begins to creep in. Valaric insisted to me that it was not important, and yet, everyone else believes that it is. A maelstrom of emotions churns deep within, but I push them down and give her a vague reply. “It’s complicated.”
“Vampires have heightened senses compared to our own,” she says in a low voice. “I’ve heard that some can hear whispers even through a wall.”
I nod, taking the hint to be careful of what I say because it may be overheard.
She continues. “Their world is one of shadows and secrets. Knowledge and gossip are traded among the nobility like currency. And trusting the wrong person can easily lead to death,” she says pointedly, and I know she is speaking of my husband.
Worry spikes through my veins. Whatever business the prince has with Valaric, it must be something dangerous.
“House Greyvale is mentioned often at court,” she continues. “It seems there are many who wish to see its downfall. But I can assure you the prince is not among them.”
I want so much to believe her, but I don’t know if I can. “Even before I came to this kingdom, I’d heard of Prince Raine.” I pause, unsure if I should continue before finally deciding to just be honest. I need to know what sort of man he is so I can tell my husband. So that whatever he’s asking of him, Valaric can make an informed decision. “They say he is cruel, cunning, and as ruthless as his father, King Corvin.”
“Strength is everything in their culture. It is power,” she explains. “And the prince uses that power to protect what is his.”
I am his. Her earlier words repeat in my mind, and I realize what she’s trying to convey. She’s telling me Prince Raine keeps her safe.
“As does Valaric.”
Alayna takes both my hands in hers. “Then, perhaps our Lords are more alike than we realize.”
I recognize that her words have meaning beyond what leaves her mouth. She’s telling me we can trust Raine. As much as I want to believe this, I’m still wary.
Alayna gives me an imploring look, waiting for my response. I give her the only one I can. “Perhaps you are right.”
I allow my gaze to travel over the opulent room once more, and I can’t help but wonder just how close Alayna and the prince are to each other. “How did you become bloodsworn to the prince?”
She turns her gaze again to the sea with a faraway look. “It’s a long story. I—”
Alayna gasps as a ring of purple smoke appears at my side. Aerlyx gives her a sheepish grin and performs a quick bow. “I apologize for interrupting your visit, but I’ve been instructed to escort Lady Greyvale back to Mysthaven Manor.”
She blinks at him in shock.
“He’s harmless,” I reassure her. “Truly.”
A deafening roar sounds from the hallway. The door swings in, slamming against the wall as Prince Raine rushes inside. His pitch-black eyes lock on Aerlyx, murderous rage burning in their depths. “Get away from my blood wife!”
“I’m not here for her.” Aerlyx holds up his hands in surrender. A faint glowing bubble surrounds us as he creates a barrier. “I’m only here for Lady Greyvale.”
Prince Raine roars, beating his fists against the magical ward. “Let her go.” A deep and threatening growl rises in his chest. “Or I swear I will hunt you down and I will end you, Demon!”
“I told you,” Aerlyx says smoothly. “I’m not here for her.”
Ignoring the string of curse words and promises of violent death that leave the prince’s mouth, Aerlyx offers me his arm. I glance over his shoulder for my husband. “Where’s Valaric?”
“He’ll be along shortly,” he murmurs under his breath. “Quickly now. My ward won’t hold for much longer.” He holds out his hand. “We must leave.”
Worry tightens my chest as I take his hand, praying that Valaric is all right.
“Now,” Aerlyx says smoothly as he bows again to Alayna. “Forgive me for startling you, my Lady. I swear I don’t bite.” He waggles his eyebrows and flashes a devious grin. “But I could be persuaded to if you asked me nicely.”
My jaw drops at his brazen flirting while Raine emits another deafening roar.
“Do you have a death wish?” I hiss at the Incubus.
“Not particularly.” He shrugs. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”
Before I can say anything else, he waves his hand and everything goes dark.
I blink and suddenly we’re standing in the study of Mysthaven Manor, overlooking the sea. The world tilts a bit, and I grip the edge of the sofa to steady myself.
“Wait right here,” Aerlyx says. “I have to go back for Valaric.”
A rush of wind buffets my back, and I turn to see Lysander, his eyes wide. “How are you here? How did—” His nostrils flare and dawned understanding touches his features. “The Incubus.”
“Yes.”
“The others?” his mother asks from the doorway. “Are they all right?”
“I don’t know.” Worry twists in my gut. Aerlyx was only supposed to transport me if something went wrong.
Sensing my concern, Reyla wrings her hands in her skirts and looks to her son. “Check the perimeter,” she says urgently. “Make certain the wards are still holding.”
He nods and then rushes from the room.
“Come,” she says. “Beneath the manor is a network of tunnels that—”
“No,” I state firmly and she halts. “We should wait here for them.”
“My Lady, we need to be prepared to leave if they do not return.”
“We must give Aerlyx a chance to bring them back.” I glance at the window and the soft hint of early morning light barely peeking over the horizon. “It will be dawn soon. We’ll be safe here from the others if”—I swallow against the lump of worry in my throat—“they try to come for us.”
“My Lady, you must hide.” Pity shines in her eyes as she takes my hand. “If they come, it will not be for me.”
Fear trickles down my spine, but I straighten my shoulders, shoring up my courage. “I will wait here for my husband.”
Lysander walks into the room and gives me a subtle bow. “Forgive me, Lady Juliet, but my mother is right. As soon as the sun rises, you should both leave for Greyvale castle. I will follow when night falls again.”
Reyla’s eyes shine with worry as she looks at her son. “What about you?” she asks softly.
“I’ll come as soon as I can, Mother.” He rests a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I will be fine. I promise.” He turns to me, his gaze dropping to my palm as if he can somehow see the symbol Valaric drew, beneath my skin. “Lord Greyvale gave you the rune to activate the gate.”
I nod.
“I’ll saddle two of the horses before the sun is up. If you ride hard, you can reach the Dark Gate, outside the city, in less than half an hour.”
Worry wraps tight around my spine, but I push it back down as I send a silent prayer to the gods to bring my husband and everyone else back safely.