CHAPTER 19
VEYA
Present Day
I’M NOT SURE this is an appropriate place to stow a queen,” I protest as we pass a row of empty holding cells and head down another corridor.
“It’s what the king wants,” Balor says blandly. His indifference is odd; I’d think he would be thrilled to throw me down here. Perhaps he’s nervous for his own dreamwalk.
“Can we get some pillows or something?” Emmanuel snarks.
Balor approaches a cell and opens the door. “In,” he commands and then yanks the cell beside it open for Emmanuel.
A guard juts out his palm for Emmanuel’s weapons.
“The only way you’re getting any of my steel is if it’s embedded in your skull,” Em says and strides into his cell fully armed.
I breeze into my cage with my blades strapped to my thighs. “Go ahead, Balor.” I nod at the open door. “Let’s all get this night behind us, shall we?”
He bolts the barred doors and locks them, and the buzz of magic fires across the bars the moment the locks are in place.
My shocked gaze darts to Balor, whose sneer springs from nowhere.
“What is Hunter magic doing on these cell doors?” I snarl.
Balor shrugs. “A Hunter left his mark here. I don’t complain about the perk.”
Fuck.
A locked cell would have been the same as a locked door. We could have escaped if needed, vampiric strength being capable of ripping open locks or bars. But we can’t break open a cell locked with Hunter magic.
Second is going to kill me.
King Nerian stumbles into view, gripping the bars, and his palms sear against them. He steadies himself and removes his hands, shaking out his charred flesh.
“I love an obedient female,” he says and guzzles wine from the bottle his guard hands him.
My eyes narrow on Nerian. “This is an overstep I won’t look past, Nerian.”
“Are you uncomfortable in there? I’m sorry. You’re right,” he slurs.
Nerian jerks his chin, and Balor unlocks my cell, which confuses me until two soldiers snap into existence and shove Del into the cell with me.
“There. That’s better. Someone to keep you company through the night.” Nerian laughs.
The cell locks again and magic buzzes.
“How dare you jeopardize a queen like this during dreamwalk!” I snarl, my gut dropping at the vulnerability of Del and me in such proximity when we’re out of our minds.
Del’s panicked eyes share my concerns.
Nerian laughs and ignores me. “Don’t play with my future wife without me, Deleos. Or do—I don’t really give a fuck.” The king tilts his chin at us, and his eyes flash. “Let’s make it interesting.”
Oh gods.
The bastard summons our clothing through the bars, and I shield myself, fangs bared in my undergarments.
Emmanuel hisses in the neighboring cell, just as disrobed, and Del chains his gaze to the ground, away from an almost-naked queen.
Skin exposed and fear ratcheting, I stare at Del’s muscled flesh and the countless points of contact the gods could use to thread an eternal bond between us.
Nerian just started a war. And I’m inside his cell, wrapped in Hunter magic.
The king sneers at me. “Sweet dreams, my dear.”
And then they’re gone, snapping into nothing.
Silence extends before Del breaks it. “Nerian doesn’t know the meaning of tact or self-control anymore,” he says, eyes still pinned to the ground.
“Did he ever?” Em asks.
Del snorts.
I drop my arms, a shiver clanging through me from the chill.
There’s nothing I can do about our circumstance, and Del’s already been vulnerable in front of me, sharing his human name. What’s a little scantily clad skin stacked up next to that?
Patrick. His name rings like a church bell in my head, demanding me to honor it.
Del sighs. “I can’t believe Nerian did this, though. I wasn’t expecting to be in a cell with you … or this naked.”
“Gods!” Emmanuel barks from the other cell. “It’s fucking insanity in this godsforsaken fucking place. I’m going to fucking rip his pitiful dick from his groin and stuff it in his shit-eating mouth!”
Del smirks at the ground.
I join him.
“I’ve never heard you string so many words together, Em,” I say.
Emmanuel punches the cell wall, and magic sears him.
“Godsdamnit! Fucking hell, godsdamn—” My assassin stops cursing and screams his rage instead.
His shredding voice echoes through the dungeon.
The male finally settles and looks me in the eyes.
His horrified expression stills the breath in my chest. “This is my fault. I never should’ve let you follow Balor down here. I will regret it forever.”
“We’ll be fine,” I tell him, trying to rally my composure and sort through our options before the full moon takes us.
“And I’m still second in Goreon. I have power here,” Del tells Emmanuel.
“Are you? Because you’re in the damn cell, too,” Emmanuel says.
“I’m here on purpose, asshole.”
I tamp a flattered smile. “Tell us what happened.”
Keeping his gaze averted, he says, “I was privy to the orders to lock you in here.”
“You can look at me,” I say, finally taking a seat on the cold, miserable stone.
Del drags his gaze across the cell, and the plum of his eyes darkens to a deep purple as they consume every inch of my skin.
My lips part and heat races down my core as he sits down across from me.
“You can look at me, not undress me with your eyes, Del,” I scold half-heartedly, although still desperate to subdue the impact of the most striking male I’ve ever seen.
Now is not the time.
“You’re already practically naked. There’s nothing to undress.”
And so is he. And he’s glorious.
I let my eyes snag on his abdomen flexing with his breath.
There’s hard muscle everywhere, from his round shoulders down his defined arms, tendons and veins popping like he’s built for battle.
His masculinity is ridiculously sexy, and his disheveled black hair adds a softened charm that makes me want to fold into his chest with his arms wrapped around me.
Del’s turn marks are on his right pec, and I wonder how it happened.
“Nice blades,” he says, eyes running up my thighs.
“Oh my gods, why are you in the cell?” Emmanuel interrupts.
Del doesn’t take his eyes off me, but his lips quirk in response. “Because I convinced the king it would be fun to rattle Veya by locking me down here with you,” he answers, eyes sliding back down my thighs.
“It’s Queen Veya,” Emmanuel corrects him. “And how did you convince him?”
Del swallows as his gaze tracks up to my face. “Honestly, it took no effort. Nerian’s fucked up, and any suggestion aligning with that is usually taken. Although I didn’t think he would put me in the cell with you.”
I groan and settle my back against the stone floor to stare at the drab, leaking ceiling above me. Emotionally spent, physically on edge, and sexually flustered. Stuck in a cell with the hottest vampire in Goreon, and the Night Kingdom, for that matter.
On a full moon.
“Touch me and I’ll fucking kill you, Del. I won’t tolerate a mate in my life,” I say sharply, swiveling my head to look at him.
Del’s eyes jerk to mine. “Don’t think I don’t already know that about you, Veya.
” He settles onto the floor on the opposite side of the cell, his muscles flexing and quivering as he leans back on his hands.
I stare at Del’s chiseled chest and then up at his ensnaring smirk above a physique sculpted by the gods.
The lonely, neglected pieces of me wish I could touch him. And that makes the sting of my solitude even more piercing.
“I’ll honor your boundary,” he says, breath billowing into the chill. “Hells forbid we create a bond we can’t run away from.”
“Chain yourself,” I command.
He huffs at me. “With what? Your panties? Like that’s going to hold in a dreamwalk.”
Emmanuel tosses two sets of restraints into our cage, and we both turn to gape at him.
“Never without them,” he says with a shrug. “Although I haven’t used them before. My targets are dead, not captured.”
My body senses the setting sun, and I nab my restraints, threading them through the cell bar, Del doing the same.
We secure ourselves around the bars of the cell, relief drenching me.
Because if a bond formed between us, I don’t know that I could kill Del if it came down to it.
I made a rash decision with Fash to protect the desires for my own life and avoid pain I was nowhere near ready to handle.
But now, I can’t convince myself to believe that my happiness is worth the price of Del’s life.
I sigh, thankful I don’t even need to worry about it now, and my mind wanders to the rest of our people as the full moon closes in on us.
“Gods, I hope the girls are surviving out there. They said they knew how to ride. I just hope they hauled hard,” I say.
Del huffs, lying down on stone, his ankle chained. “You and I both, Veya.”
“They should be nearing the wall by now,” Emmanuel adds.
My fingers flex in anticipation of our impending dreamwalk, my desire to escape this cell raging. Hunter magic puts any sane vampire in a state of unease.
“We’re taking Goreon when the full moon is over. Nerian crossed a line with this tonight,” I say.
“Agreed,” Del growls, and Emmanuel groans.
“We have to get out of here first,” he says.
There are only two ways out of a cell locked with Hunter magic: the key for the lock or a Hunter.
“We’ll get out,” I assure Em. “Second will get a key. And the male might burn down the castle just for the offense.”
“I really hope not. This castle is beautiful; it just needs some cheering up,” Del drawls.
“It needs a full workover,” I retort.
“Is that our first act of Goreon rule? Castle makeover?” Del laughs, as I push at the delirium setting in.
And then it does, and I’m gone.
Momma braids my hair while we wait for Father to come home. He’s been gone for days, and I miss him. We’re getting pretty first and then making him dinner.
“What should we cook, baby girl?” Momma asks me.
I shrug as her fingers pull another section of hair into my braid. “Eggs,” I suggest.
She laughs. “It’s dinner.”
“But he loves eggs.”
Momma grabs another section of hair. “True. Eggs it is, then.”
The rain falls harder outside, like drums on the roof. I love the sound of the rain.
She ties off the braid and rubs my arm. “All done. Let’s make some eggs.”
I scurry to the kitchen. I love helping in the kitchen.
Momma pulls ingredients from the icebox. “Break the eggs in the bowl while I chop,” she says, handing me supplies.
I try to count the eggs, but I think I missed a number.
“Count the shells again,” Momma says. “You can do it.”
I scrunch my lips and count again.
“Well done,” Momma praises and scoops the chopped vegetables into the eggs, handing me a spoon.
I stir while Momma lights the range. We’re a really good team.
“Ready to pour?” she asks, and I nod before we lift the bowl together and dump the eggs into the pan.
I watch them go into the oven. It’s my favorite part, to wait until I smell the food. That’s how you know it’s almost done.
“Let’s set the table,” Momma says, handing me the plates.
I’ve just finished placing them in their spots when glass crashes onto our floor and a rock skids past me.
“Run, baby girl, run!” Momma tells me, but I’m frozen. I can’t stop looking at the windows, where the rain is coming into the kitchen. The floor is getting wet.
Momma lifts me and shoves me in a cupboard, slamming the door.
It’s dark in here.
The back door bangs open, and I jump at the sound.
Boots are stomping around the kitchen.
Momma is screaming, “I beg you, don’t do this.”
“King’s orders.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” she yells. I can see her legs through the gap in the wood.
“Should have watched the company you keep, then.”
Momma gurgles, and I see her fall to the floor.
I know she doesn’t want me to come out, but I want to see if she is hurt.
No more boots are stomping.
Just the rain pounding in my ears.
I push the door open slowly, peeking out to make sure it’s safe, and then crawl across the floor to her.
Momma is bleeding, a red slice across her neck, and her eyes aren’t moving.
“Momma,” I say, shaking her.
When she doesn’t respond, I lie next to her, stroking her arm over and over, waiting for Father to get home.
The back door bangs in the wind, and I jump again, clutching Momma tighter.
The eggs are burning, and I’m shivering.
I should close the back door. But I don’t want to leave Momma.
Hours pass, and my tears won’t stop. Father is late, and I’m trying to be strong.
The sun rises, and morning light streams into the kitchen. I can’t cry anymore, and it’s hard to keep my eyes open.
Footsteps.
I lift my head to the doorway, and Father freezes, staring at us.
“No!” he screams, running at us and skidding to his knees. “No, no, no,” he cries, pulling Momma into his lap.
Hours later, I awaken to Del staring at the tears running down my cheeks.
“Not a good one for you, then,” he says.
I can barely speak, my throat dry from screaming, like someone poured sand down it.
I swallow. “No,” I croak.
Emmanuel stirs, laughter bubbling from his chest.
At least one of us had a good night.
“The curse of the vampire,” Del whispers and gives me a soft smile. “I’m sorry I can’t get us out of here,” he says, shifting to sit upright, muscles glistening with sweat despite the chill. “This isn’t a place for a queen—”
“I’ve been in plenty of cages in my life,” I tell him. I don’t have the energy for his apologies or sympathy after my dreamwalk.
“The fuck have you been through, woman,” Del spits.
My gaze meets his, and I note the glisten in his eyes. It wasn’t a good dreamwalk for Del, either, it seems.
“My fair share,” I say, although it has nothing to do with the cages I’ve been in.
I curl in on myself to sit up and let my legs extend in front of me, drooping over them with a sigh.
Em tosses us the keys to our restraints, and we unchain ourselves.
“It’s daytime. Aurelia and Samantha are in Prosperity by now, or at least sheltered in Death,” I whisper.
“Your stronghold names could use a little work,” Del says.
I huff, appreciating his attempt to lighten our mood. “I was too busy ruling to spend time on frivolous matters,” I say, a small smile playing on my lips.
“Well, exactly how are we ruling Goreon?” Emmanuel growls from next door, repeatedly throwing his blade at the lock to no avail.
“Once Second and Charlotte are back, we’ll take the castle, quickly and quietly,” I say.
Del unleashes a grateful smile. “I knew you were the way out of this hell.”
I consider the second of Goreon for a moment, an unlikely ally I never saw coming. “You’re not the only one who thinks that,” I say, heart wringing in desperation to keep my promises and bring peace to Goreon.
Del smirks. “Your people have faith in you, and so do I. And while Nerian sleeps off his hangover and Balor gives his morning orders to the human guards before his rest, I owe you a Goreon secret.”
“Will it help us win?” I ask, my eager gaze homed in on his face.
Del’s eyes flash. “This one will.”