Chapter 21 #2
Raydin. That was the male Aryana was supposed to marry.
Her betrothed. The one who couldn’t care less about her.
His long auburn hair was pulled into a low ponytail; his red eyes, prominent against his pale face, gave him a ghostly pallor.
He stood next to King Fallor with a dutiful expression and a dull pull to his mouth.
“Yes. My love, are you hurt?” The caring tone was clearly forced.
Darkness curled in Zarathos’s veins. His love? Not anymore. A savage thrill surged through him, drowning out reason and filling him with a sense of triumph. He had gotten to Aryana first.
The vampire princess was his, not this sniveling weasel’s.
“I’m unhurt,” she said.
At that point, a female entered and burst into tears. She raced over to Aryana and threw her arms around her. Aryana stumbled back but awkwardly returned the embrace. “Mother?” The surprise was evident in the vampire princess’s tone.
“I was certain I would never see you again. Oh, my baby, I’m so glad you’re safe.”
“I’m fine, Mother, really.” Aryana’s voice was suddenly thick.
She cast a glance toward the entrance to the throne room where an old human female stood with a handkerchief, dabbing at two little punctures in her neck.
Zarathos should have known Aryana would always pay attention to any human present, no matter how insignificant.
This one must be a human giver. His spy had informed him of the old looking woman that was constantly found at the queen’s side.
She huddled back into the shadows so as not to draw notice, though he suspected the scent of her still recently inflicted wounds probably made that impossible.
“How did you escape those nasty demons?” Aryana’s mother stepped back, wiping at her eyes.
“Yes, Aryana,” Fallor drawled, having returned to his throne. “Do tell us how you made it back after so many days.”
“I was being held by King Salen in his dungeons, but I was able to overcome him and get away.”
“What a relief,” Fallor said, though like her betrothed, the feeling was obviously forced. Shit. This vampire reminded Zarathos a little too much of his own father.
Aryana’s mother hugged her closer.
“I heard the demon arch king was the one who originally kidnapped you,” Raydin said.
Aryana eased out of her mother’s grasp. “Yes, he was. And despite that, it was with his assistance I escaped from King Salen.”
The room fell silent. Even Aryana’s mother looked at her with horror.
“What was the deal?” King Fallor had gone stiff. Every word punctuated with emphasis.
“He agreed to help me escape if we paid him one thousand gold pieces.”
A hefty sum. Though not too hefty for the vampire king. Clever, Vampress.
Fallor leaned back, a low growl in his throat.
“Of course we will pay the sum.” Aryana’s mother gazed at the king with expectation in her eyes. “It is the least we can do for the safe return of the heir to the throne.”
Fallor’s eyes locked with Aryana’s mother, and a silent, venomous exchange passed between them.
Zarathos saw the calculation flicker in the king’s expression—cold, deliberate.
Fury surged through him. Aryana’s memories had branded Fallor a bastard, but watching him measure the value of his own niece’s life as if it were a coin in his palm made Zarathos want to smash through the crystal, rip the vampire sovereign’s throat out, and watch him bleed out onto the floor.
Fallor gave a slow smile. “Yes, we will give payment to the demon arch king.” He leaned forward in his seat, stroking his short, pointy beard. “Are you certain there were no other stipulations to the bargain that you made?”
“No, Uncle, there were no others. If you’ll forgive me. I’m very tired. Might we continue this another time?”
King Fallor waved a hand of dismissal. “Yes. Yes. Of course. After what you’ve been through, by all means, go take a rest.”
Aryana bowed. “Thank you, Uncle.”
She turned and walked from the throne room. She cut through the halls to her bedchamber. When she got there, she shut the door and leaned against it.
That could have been worse.
Aryana shook her head. “He knows something isn’t right,” she whispered.
Maybe. But does he really expect you to betray him and go after the scepter?
“Perhaps. Now that he is aware you are involved. And oh gods, he had a succubus with him. If she tells him I am Bloodbound…”
Yes, that was a problem. Honestly, Zarathos had forgotten that succubi sensed those sorts of bonds until he saw the demon woman sitting in the vampire king’s lap. It was a silly oversight.
Then we do this quickly. As soon as it is safe.
“The castle calms during the day. So when the sun rises, many will retire into their rooms.”
Then that is when we’ll move.
A few hours later, Zarathos watched from Aryana’s eyes as she moved down the hall to her father’s office. She’d attached a sword from her chamber to her waist underneath her cloak. She walked right up to the guard.
“I wish to go in.”
“I’m sorry, Princess Aryana, but your uncle has commanded that nobody shall enter.”
She nodded and pivoted as if to go, but then spun around and rammed the hilt of her sword against the first guard’s head.
The other guard’s mouth opened to shout an alarm, but Aryana was there, jumping onto the vampire’s back, her arm on his throat, cutting off his ability to speak.
She brought the sword hilt to his head, and he dropped.
Damn, his vampress was a good fighter.
She stood in front of the door to her father’s office longer than Zarathos felt comfortable with. But he knew better than to speak. Let her gather her nerves and move forward when she was ready.
Aryana grasped her sword and took several deep inhalations before entering the room. The alcove wasn’t far, only about ten steps away. Surely, she’d make it across.
She stalled halfway into the room, her breaths coming fast.
Shit. Not now. Aryana. Aryana, are you all right?
Looking through her gaze, he noticed how her eyes darted around the space, how they settled on the seat of her father’s desk. Crimson still stained its wooden surface. She didn’t move. Her heart beat so wildly in her chest that he swore it might burst. Her breathing came even faster.
Gods, she was panicking.
Aryana, listen to me. Whatever you remember, it’s in the past.
If she remained here like this, someone was bound to notice the knocked out guards in the hall and sound the alarm. He had to get her moving.
The sword slipped from her fingers, and she dropped to her knees, her hands covering her ears. She moaned.
Zarathos cast around in his thoughts for something, anything that might break her from the trauma in her mind.
Aryana, you are safe. Do you hear me? You’re safe. You must get moving, now.
But she only sank closer to the floor as she gasped for breath. His heart dropped at the sounds of shouts in the hallway.
All right, fine. You want the truth, Vampress? Here it is. He used you. Your love for your father made you vulnerable and there are always those who are searching to take advantage of your vulnerabilities. That is simply life.
She stilled. Her breaths stalling for the briefest of moments. “I…am…not weak.”
Are you sure? He used you, Aryana. You let him use you. If you believe love is weak, then you should have seen it coming.
Her teeth grit. “How dare you…”
How dare I tell you what every royal child should know from birth? Maybe you wanted him to kill your father.
“You bastard,” she snarled. “I avenged my father. I stabbed Vallin in the heart until he died.”
And yet he defeats you here in this room each time you even think about him.
She rose to her feet, her heart still beating harshly, but for a completely different reason.
“He will not defeat me again. I shall not let him.”
Then show me.
She released a fast breath and snatched her sword off the ground. She took a small step toward the alcove. Her eyes flicked to her father’s desk.
The door to the office was flung open and guards charged in.
Show me you won’t be defeated by a mere memory.
Her fists clenched, and a small cry came from her lips as she sprinted for the entrance to the alcove.
Once she was through, she sank to the floor.
The guards paused right before passing the line that would mark their end.
They turned, hurrying off, shouting the alarm.
Relief slid light and rushed through Zarathos.
Gods, Vampress. You’re so much work.
A small sobbing laugh fell from her lips. “I hate you.”
Yes, well, your uncle could be here any moment. He tried to convey his urgency in his words. Release me.
She pulled the crystal ball from her pocket. “Zarathos, I need you. Return to me.”