When Death Parts Us (The Curse of the Vampire #1)

CHAPTER 1

VEYA

Present Day

IT’S BEEN CENTURIES, and I still haven’t killed him.

I crumple the correspondence from my scouts in my fist and shove it into my gown’s hidden pocket, pacing the turret I’ve stashed myself in.

We know so little about King Nerian of Goreon’s defenses, and I can’t convince myself to jeopardize my warriors and attack blindly. Nerian should have an army, but my scouts can’t fucking find them anywhere. They can’t get eyes on numbers, skill, location—none of it.

All they’ve found is the squalor and the suffering.

This king has forced his humans to scrap for survival as he consumes the land with his wealth, spreading vampire estates and leaving few options left for the remaining humans.

And he feeds with no limits, allowing his vampire population to drink from the vein, fueling bloodlust that can lead to a dangerous addiction.

Not to mention the killing of humans at an alarming pace.

And when his human population dwindled, he began stealing lives from his neighboring territories.

Including ours.

So we locked our borders down tight as soon as we finished the construction of the Northern Wall eighty years ago. No vampire has been allowed to pass into the Night Kingdom from Goreon. It is a risk we will not take, and crossing our wall is now a death sentence.

My army makes sure of it.

Dress shoes clicking against stone pull my attention.

“Ah! There you are,” Prince Hathin slurs. “Been looking for you everywhere, Queen Veya.” The foreign prince hangs in the stone doorway, holding himself upright in his embroidered cream suit, somehow without stains today.

This one is always drunk.

I smile sweetly, plastering on a well-practiced mask. “You found me. Well done,” I praise in a honeyed voice.

“Indeed—”

Hathin begins an obnoxious tirade, droning on about how bored he is.

I try not to sigh at him. He’s been visiting for weeks, dragging on about his lack of amusement with all the hard work he’s undergoing to expand his kingdom in the isles of the Sereia Sea.

And I can’t help when my focus returns to much more pressing matters.

I rest an elbow on the window ledge, letting my frustration exhale into the cold breeze, gaze sweeping over my kingdom—my entire heart.

This note from my scouts is infuriating. I’m so tired of waiting to take Goreon Kingdom. I’ve spent the last century eliminating evil on my borders, but this target remains out of reach.

“Are you listening to me, my queen?” Hathin demands.

I turn back to the prince, yanking my gaze from the lightening night sky beyond. “Of course. You were saying you needed some entertainment before we rest today.”

He winks and steps his muscled form through the archway. Hathin is handsome, and he uses it like a weapon.

The male drinks me in, sauntering away the distance between us, and helps himself into my space. “I believe we’ll be great together, you and I,” Prince Hathin drawls, dragging his gloved hand down my neck like he already owns me.

I have no interest in joining our territories; our beliefs could not be further apart.

Hathin is only marginally better than Nerian.

This prince has forced his humans to expedite the construction of his cities under his motivation law, as he refers to it.

One member of every human family is taken for vampire consumption, and in the wake of their unimaginable loss, that family is then threatened.

Because unless they want to lose more loved ones, the remaining members strong enough to work are thrown into continuous labor.

And that labor eventually, typically, results in their death.

Innocent humans are required to make an impossible choice. Die now, or die later.

So I’ve led Hathin to believe we have a future together, I needed his trust to get this close in private.

Bells toll through the large open window beside us, warning of the sunrise. The light I need is just moments away.

“You know, I’m glad you found me, Hathin.”

His strong hand grips my waist, pulling me closer with a curling grin, and I let him.

“Is that so, my queen?” he purrs, the liquor on his breath violating.

I hum at him, staring into Hathin’s lustful blue eyes as the soft pink of dawn peeks behind him, and my heart races with adrenaline.

Fangs snap from my gums, and I lunge for the vampire, ripping out his throat in a single bite. Those glacier blue eyes blow wide, and I shove the stunned male with all of my strength, pushing him through the open window to his death.

I retreat into shadow and watch his body burn under the first rays of daylight cresting the horizon, eliminating his threat to my kingdom, and his own. I ignore the biting doubt that my methods are ethical, because I just saved countless lives.

As I spin to the stairwell, my gown rustles, a thousand swatches of layered plum and black tulle commanding more territory than the doorway I’m dragging it through.

I descend the turret, relief flooding me as I wipe the cold blood of another eligible prince from my lips and chin.

Two weeks of courting and lying, of disingenuous glances and empty promises, and feigning interest in his assets across the Sereia Sea.

But I played the exhausting game I’ve perfected over the last century because this prince deserved a swift and quiet death sentence.

Cursing, I lift my skirts higher as they threaten to trip me down the stairwell in my haste to leave my morning behind.

“My queen,” Emmanuel says at the bottom of the stairs, offering an elbow.

“Good morning, Em,” I say, taking his arm. We sashay into the dazzling throne room, welcomed by the candlelight of a thousand flickering wicks dancing against the shining cream marble.

I survey my court enjoying the last moments of their night before resting as we walk the center aisle, the mountain of tulle trailing us.

Emmanuel’s rich black hair matching his fine suiting, sculpted cheekbones, and strong jawline turns heads as we stroll.

Em is one of my best-kept secrets. His naturally brooding self is often masked behind a pristine smile, and no one beyond my trusted circle knows Emmanuel is my best assassin.

So good, in fact, that he’d been sent to kill me when he was human.

“Did you handle it?” he asks.

“It’s done.”

“Hathin was so drunk. I didn’t think he’d make it up the damn stairwell to you,” he laughs, that perfect smile pointed ahead.

“I’m thrilled he did,” I say, glad Prince Hathin is in our past.

He peers at me with a tilt of his chin. “So, who’s next?”

I chuckle at his eagerness and let my gaze drift to the Gothic carved arches above us, reaching across the broad expanse, as I think through my decision.

I stare longingly at the only opening to the outside world in this hall: a darkened skylight, centered a few yards in front of my throne.

It’s spelled to become transparent upon my signal, burning and destroying vampiric threats as needed.

Thankfully, I haven’t used it on others in decades.

We approach the raised dais, and I know my answer. “We focus on the isles. Sereia Sea could be neutralized within the next couple of years.”

Goreon can wait a bit longer.

“I agree,” Emmanuel says, departing from my side as I ascend the seven steps to my throne, conversations echoing softly up the high stone walls.

The corpses of each corrupt fallen ruler who stood in my way to secure the Night Kingdom territory are entombed in the stone below my feet, their names engraved on each riser I climb.

The architect of this beautiful room grumbled at the offense of burying bodies in the stone, but I never want to lose sight of the pain we went through, the lives we lost. Especially in the pretty throne room.

We will always remember what’s important.

The room silences and bows to me.

“Please rise,” I command, heart full as I look upon the trustworthy souls before me.

My ambition and relentless effort have protected them, and all of the citizens beyond these walls, creating a place of peace and safety for vampires and humans alike.

It’s my greatest accomplishment and my greatest treasure.

The antechamber doors whip open, and my focus jerks up.

Second strides through them like he owns the place.

My second never gave himself a vampire name when he asked me to turn him centuries ago; he insisted his station was his identity, and that was enough. So, he’s Second, by station and by name.

A grin pulls joyfully at my lips as he barrels down the grand hall. I’m grateful for his presence after my morning. We share my vision for this kingdom, and we’ve worked tirelessly together to see that vision come to fruition.

“You won’t believe it,” Second warns as his massive form and long gait close our distance in moments. That’s a benefit too: He’s a naturally made bodyguard.

My eyes land on the letter he clutches. “What is it?” I ask, my insides jumping. Second is the closest thing I have to a brother in this life, and I know him well—he’s rarely flustered by anything.

“A letter from Goreon.”

My body stills, the predator within me stiffening, and hushed whispers race through the room.

“You’re right,” I say. “I don’t believe it.”

We rarely correspond between kingdoms. Vampires and their secrets rule this world.

And that silence is how I’ve quietly eliminated so many of my enemies.

They handed me a wide-open door to lure princes under the pretense of courting for the position of king and assassinate my way to securing our borders, ensuring the Night Kingdom’s stability and way of life.

Because no one talks, no one communicates their losses.

Second climbs the tomb steps two at a time to hand me the letter.

“Charlotte and Emmanuel, stay. Everyone else, please leave us,” I say, and the throne room empties outside of my three most trusted counselors.