“You’re not just anyone,” Demos said. His general stayed on the other side of the room, assessing. “You’re Raphael’s progeny. Even if he survived, King Julian would be expected to sentence him to death. Once you tell Julian, that’s as good as a trial. Vampires can’t lie.”
“I’ll tell him,” Raphael said. The last thing he needed was Julian asking Samara questions. “But we still need to figure out why the fae were involved and if they’ll try again.” They’d be stupid to, but it’s not like every enemy was a genius.
Samara cleared her throat. “I—I don’t think it was the fae.”
He was in front of her in an instant. “What do you mean?”
She lifted her chin from her knees. Her eyes were bright red, as if she was blinking back tears. “I’ll tell you, but I need you to promise not to overreact.”
“I won’t overreact,” he said evenly. He could burn the palace to the ground and not consider it an overreaction. His Samara had been attacked. Had been shackled in cursed copper. Even if that had been the witch’s only crime, Raphael would’ve gladly ripped his spine from his still-breathing body.
She narrowed her gaze. Even now, she was defiant. “Or retaliate at all. If I tell you who I think did it, I don’t want you to send anyone after them.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” he drawled, deliberately not agreeing.
She flushed, cheeks turning the faintest pink. “It is not a bargain.”
Despite the circumstances, Raphael grinned. Her thoughts played clearly on her face, remembering exactly how they’d sealed their other bargain. He’d abstained from collecting the other, for now.
“Raphael, I’m serious.”
“I’ll stay my hand for now,” he said. “That’s the best I can do when it comes to someone threatening your safety.”
“Fine. It’s about the shackles he disguised as a bracelet. I realized I’d seen the pattern before. When you were in chains—”
“When were you in cursed copper?” Demos interjected, voice accusatory.
In cursed copper, a vampire—king or not—was nearly as defenseless as a mortal. Especially for one like him in Greymere. Those were details Raphael had carefully omitted when he’d told his general—and friend—how he’d found Samara. “Leave us,” he said, twisting his head. “I’ll fill you in later.”
“You had better,” Demos growled. He moved quickly through the room, shutting the door behind him.
Now it was just the two of them.
“Any fool can make cursed copper,” Raphael said carefully. Another of Anagenni’s petty revenges. It was a tedious process, but not a magical one.
She shook her head, white tresses falling back and forth. “No. I mean the bracelets were the same. I picked those locks several times when we were in the cabin, and the mechanism was identical. The style I could have excused, but the locking mechanism is as specific to any smith as a magical signature.” She drew a fortifying breath. “I think the metallurgist was working with the Witch Kingdom.”
The Witch Kingdom. His lips curled back involuntarily. After everything she’d endured from them, they had targeted her. Because they wanted to hurt him.
“You won’t attack them, right? I mean, they only…” She trailed off as if realizing what she was trying to defend. Her misplaced protectiveness rankled.
“They onlytried to kill you,” he growled. That upstart king. Sending scouts into the vampire kingdoms, sending a witch to kill his viper… “But I won’t retaliate.”
To do so would be all-out war, and even he hesitated at that. Despite what she thought of vampires, Raphael didn’t relish in needless bloodshed. He’d slowly begun to convince her of that, and if he sent his army after them, it would undo all the progress they’d made.
He loved her tender heart just as he loved her rage. He only wished it wasn’t directed toward those who had wronged her. “Their would-be killer has already been dealt with. That will suffice as a message.”
“Raphael, there was more,” she started, then sealed her lips as if regretting speaking.
If she’d been willing to name the Witch Kingdom, then this was serious. The fact she’d even confided her suspicions to begin with was progress.
But blood curse him, he ached to be her confidant. To be the person she gave her secrets to willingly.
“My sweet viper.” He sat at the edge of the table across from her. “Haven’t I earned your trust?”
“I didn’t tell Demos this,” she said, gaze shifting down to one side. “But when he put the bracelets on me—please don’t growl, it makes it hard to think.”
Raphael acquiesced with great self-control.His viper, in chains… The mental image was maddening. “Fine. Continue.”
