CHAPTER 9
VEYA
Present Day
ISWALLOW AS THE HUMAN girl curls in my lap, trying to hide herself.
I keep every instinct in check. Fangs. Hunger. Desire. Rage.
My insides burn, fighting my control. The smell of her pumping blood calls to the monster within.
I only have one thing left I can offer her.
A choice.
“Look at me,” I tell her kindly, keeping my hands fisted in my skirts, not touching her.
And I don’t rush her.
Nerian prances in place, feet tapping with his excitement beside us.
I ignore him and pray the gods tip fate in my favor and sway Nerian toward leniency if this doesn’t go how he wants it to. It isn’t my intention to start a war or overstay our welcome on the first night of our visit.
Second and Emmanuel already have palms on their weapons, though. I can’t blame them.
The girl sinks, her knees resting on the floor, and peers up at me, sheltering her breasts in my skirts.
She looks younger than twenty years.
“I’m sorry this happened to you. I need you to tell me what you want. Do you understand what I’m asking?” I say.
She nods, her greasy blonde hair glistening in the firelight, tears streaming from her sapphire eyes.
“I want to join my family,” she cries.
I give her a kind smile. “And where are they?”
She looks me in the eyes. “With the gods.”
“Are you certain?” I ask, my heart breaking for her.
“I’m certain,” she says, her voice dropping to a low growl.
“Whatever you wish, brave girl. Would you like me to do it?” I ask, my eyes skirting to Del as he shifts in his chair, his knuckles white as his fingertips grip the edge of the table, Charlotte pale beside him.
I’d be convinced Del was trying to restrain himself from drinking, but my own rage is written in his eyes—another thing we have in common besides our dislike for Balor.
Surprising, for Nerian’s second.
His expression disappears in a blink when Nerian moves behind Second and into his view.
“Yes, I would like you to do it,” the girl whispers, and my gaze finds hers again.
“What is your name?”
“Christine.”
“It’s my honor to send you to your family, Christine. Know that I will remember you for the rest of my existence.”
She smiles at me through her tears.
Gods.
I slide a hand up my skirt, reaching for my dagger.
“Drink from her, Veya,” Nerian demands excitedly through a crazed sneer.
My gut plummets, fear sliding along my skin. I don’t want to be anywhere near the temptation of bloodlust or breaking the rules I steadfastly live by.
“Do it,” Christine commands bravely, her gaze narrowing at the king before she climbs into my lap, my eyes connecting with hers. “Don’t anger him over me—just drink.”
Her hopeful expression begs me to listen, and I consider the risk I would put my people at if I upset Nerian. Their lives are my responsibility.
And we only just got here. I can’t waste this opportunity.
My heart tears open as I choose to protect our mission and my people over my morals and the risk of bloodlust.
My fangs release underneath the smile I offer Christine, the last one she’ll ever see, and I dip my mouth to her neck, jamming myself beneath her tender skin.
And then I drink from her.
Something I haven’t done in a very, very long time.
Her warm blood coats my throat and seeps into me with a power so delicious I can barely breathe.
Her aura, her essence, her humanity calls to the monster within, and I take everything.
Euphoria, tantalizing and teasing, skims along my skin.
Her life force clings to me, pooling pleasure in the starved alcoves of the vampire nature I ignore.
The donated blood I usually consume pales against the vibrant energy of life flooding me.
My hands leave my skirts, and I grip her, my body alight with pure intoxication.
And then, with tears running down my cheeks and desire coursing through my veins, I do something I’ve never done.
I drink the life from her.
Christine sighs, her breath whispering along my collarbone, and she loses consciousness in my arms, the throb of her pulse slowing.
Just a few more pulls.
With my eyes scrunched in grief, I pray to the gods to take her.
And then I feel the moment she leaves us.
I wish I could go with her.
King Nerian claps. “Ah, see! It all worked out. Everyone got what they wanted. And didn’t she taste fucking fabulous?”
My eyes snap open. “If you’ll excuse me, Nerian,” I say, voice wavering. I’m balancing on an edge and just might ruin our welcome in this court with the rage and sorrow running through me with no mercy and no end in sight.
I need to get out of this room.
Nerian grins at me. “Of course, my dear. Go enjoy yourself.”
I rise from my chair with Christine draped in my arms and walk out of the dining room without another word, her body and my soul dead.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to her over and over, heels clacking amid grave silence while Goreon guards lined along the hallway assess me suspiciously.
I see myself through the grand foyer, and males pull open the iron doors of the entrance as Balor comes up behind me, barreling past and cutting me off.
“Where do you think you’re going, Queen?” he demands.
“Where are the wood stores?” I ask.
The guard beside us eyes Christine and steps forward, face softening so slightly I almost miss it. He nods his chin to the right.
I brush past General Balor as he turns his scowl on his guard. “Who the fuck gave you permission to step out of your line?” he growls and launches his soldier into the wall, along with a fuming lecture as I walk away.
Asshole.
Second and Del chase after me as I snap to the edges of the enormous stronghold and find the firewood storage.
“Veya,” Second says.
I spin, clutching Christine.
“Let us help you,” he offers gently, eyes reflecting the burden neither of us thought I would ever bear.
I nod, standing aside, and hold Christine while the males build a pyre.
I might be in Goreon territory, a place I doubt a pyre has ever been built for a human, but I’m the Queen of the Night Kingdom, and this is how we do things.
Enemy soil or not.
The freezing wind whips at my skirts, and I pull Christine closer to keep her warm. My pointless act shreds my heart, and it bleeds out as I squeeze a dead girl tighter.
Del and Second lift the final log and secure it before turning to me, their breath heavy with their quick effort. I place Christine atop the structure, her frail frame freezing in my memory as her blood courses through me.
“May the gods keep you and hold you,” I tell her, brushing hair from her face and closing her sapphire eyes.
Second steps up next to me, threading his fingers through mine. “May the gods keep you and hold you.”
Del moves next to the pyre with a torch and looks at me, the firelight dancing in his violet eyes. He gives me a sad smile, waiting for my command.
I’ll never forget the kindness Del showed me tonight. No matter how all this ends.
I nod at Del.
“May the gods keep you and hold you, Christine,” he says like he knows her and sets fire to the kindling.
We remain in silence until ash settles into the snow slush. Dawn is just a whisper away, and if I didn’t have a kingdom to watch out for and promises to keep, I would let the sun take me.
The three of us snap back to the iron entrance and stride through the gold and ebony foyer.
“I’ll leave you both to your rest,” Del says, offering me a bow before turning down the hall to the west wing.
I watch his broad back, his suit soiled and dress shoes muddied, as he walks away, shoving his fists into his pockets.
“What do you make of him?” I whisper to Second.
“He doesn’t belong here. I’m not sure what keeps him at Nerian’s side.”
“Agreed.”
Second and I snap to our suite of rooms, Night Kingdom guards stationed in the hall. I nod as I pass them, and they bow to me, faces mournful.
My people know what tonight meant to me. My trusted guards are privy to most everything about me.
Charlotte and Emmanuel jump when we walk through the doors.
“Did you burn her?” Charlotte asks, eyes like glaciers, brilliant blue shining through tears.
“We did,” Second answers, striding to the wash basin and wetting a cloth before bringing it to me.
I stare at the rag in his calloused hands, knowing exactly what it’s for.
Lifting my chin, I let Second wipe Christine’s blood from my mouth. He works the cloth down my throat, where I felt her life force flow, a serpent teasing my sanity as I let it snake along my skin in that dining room. Each dab and sweep of the rag threatens to crack the thin control I cling to.
Emmanuel stands in the corner, throwing his blade at the wall and summoning it back to himself over and over.
The consistent thud is comforting while I watch the knife carve his intended design.
The Night Kingdom crest etches into Goreon plaster.
“We will take this kingdom before it’s over,” I promise them.
“Yes, my queen,” they respond.
Second towers over me, his eyes finding mine. “You and I need to talk.”
And I know what it’s about.
I nod at him to follow me to my room, and we close ourselves in.
“What was your plan? To tell me there was a marriage proposal when we fucking got here?” he asks, tone harsh but lacking bite.
I groan, slinking onto the edge of the bed, my gown pooling around me. “I’ll do whatever is necessary to get us close enough to win.”
Second paces the room. “Bedding that foulness will never be a necessity. We’ll find another way.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” I snarl dishonestly, the rawness of my evening screaming at my edges. I would never sleep with Nerian.
Second stops pacing, and his kind eyes make sure to secure mine before he speaks.
“You’ve built a kingdom that will fight for you.
We will fight for you,” he says, gesturing to the closed door with Charlotte and Emmanuel behind it, my trusted guard beyond them.
“For what is right. Don’t ever forget that. ”