“Think about it. As a void, it would have been close to harmless. But if it’s really your birthright, well, that book has spent centuries with dark, dark, vampire-hating witches, like I said. Enchanted items like that can influence a user.”
“What? I’ve never heard of that.” Of course, I’d had very little magical education. As a child, my tutors had focused only on the most basic information.
Thea gave the book another look and pressed a short lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s not well-known, given how rare grimoires are. You know how grimoires are tied to magical bloodlines, right? They can become imbued not just with the magic but the emotions of the users. When they’re passed from generation to generation, it’s not just the power that’s passed on, but the grudges. The slight an ancestor felt from a century ago feels like a fresh sting. That book was held by people who warred with the vampires over and over. I have no doubt that with you being the newest owner, it’s whispering in your ear.”
I wanted to deny her theory, but there was a ring of truth to it. It was hard to know—I’d hated vampires so long in my own right. But sometimes thoughts came like sudden and sharp rebukes when I tried to consider something else.
Even now, my anger bubbled again at the thought of all my predecessors being slain. But maybe it wasn’t the book’s fault. “Raphael mentioned transitioning would heighten emotions. Maybe that’s why?”
“That’s right. It’s . . . well, a second puberty wouldn’t be quite the nicest way to put it, but I’ve heard multiple vampires say it’s similar. But remember, Sam, these issues have been going on since before you turned.” Thea leveled me with a look. “You need to master yourself before you can master the grimoire.”
“Okay. So no more grimoire. For now,” I added quickly, before the lie could catch me. I’d take it with me when I left, one way or another. “What do I do instead?”
She made her way across the room to the door. “The plan is twofold: learning to consciously use your magic and avoiding lettingitinfluenceyou. For the latter, I’d say continue what you’re doing—spending time with vampires—and Raphael, since he seems to bring out strong emotions in you,” she said with an arched brow. “When you start to feel that anger, pull back. You need to master it. Otherwise, when you do use your magic, it’ll be a powerful weapon that you can’t control.”
And if I showed it in front of the wrong person, I’d be executed. “Then how can I practice my magic? I can’t just ask Demos if I can thrall him on purpose this time.” I hadn’t so much as seen the guard since Raphael had kicked him out.
Thea fingered the door handle. “For now, you just focus on that second part. I’ll look into possibilities and find other ways to help you,” she promised.
For the first time since I’d been turned, hope stirred inside me.
Chapter Fourteen
Samara
“Presenting Lady Samara, fledglingsired by His Majesty, King Raphael,” the master of ceremonies intoned as I stepped into the ball.
I’d hardly seen Thea since she’d promised to look into my magic. Instead, I’d focused on controlling my emotions around vampires. Mainly, that was Raphael on the mornings we trained. I’d also spent the past two days in court, since the bond forced us to be close.
I’d thought I’d made progress—another few paces between Raphael and me this morning. When I walked back, I realized I’d miscounted.
Now, I looked for him, expecting Raphael to be waiting, arm extended as he had in the past.
He was nowhere to be seen.
Rejection, sharp and cruel, hit me like a blow. I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin before it could settle on my face.
I walked down the steps alone, surveying the crowd. In the past, there had been a mix of vampires and humans who wore vampirism like a costume—Raphael had once told me about itlike it was a good thing, the fact humans could rise in station and attend these functions, even if they voluntarily powdered their skin and dyed their hair to look like the lifeless creatures.
But there wasn’t a single heartbeat in the ballroom.
No, the room was filled with predators, and all eyes were on me. Assessing. Curious.
But not hungry, not as they’d been in the past. Because now I wasn’t a human for them to imagine tasting—I was one of them. No, that wasn’t quite right. In their eyes, I wasn’t just one of them, but rather their better. I’d been sired by their king, even if he didn’t deign to greet me at the stairs.
Their gazes now were respectful, their minds stirring with machinations as they listened for every soft footfall as my heels hit the stone stairs beneath me.
I hated them for it.
I had no plan save to follow each footfall with another, but any plan would have been cast aside once I reached the bottom of the stairs.
They swarmed me.
All at once, a dozen vampires called my name, greeting me, praising my appearance, asking about a dance card I didn’t even possess.
“Lady Samara, your dress—”
“You’re a vision, Lady Samara—”
