He glowered. “Whitechapel was mine.”
“Was is the important word. There was a war, and you lost it. The winner takes the land. It’s been like that since the dawn of time. Get over it!”
Besides, Knight, the Duke of the Moon Court, belonged to the werewolf clan of the Molossians. They were big, strong warriors, born to fight. Only a fool would cross them.
Graves, instead, belonged to the clan of the Argos, who were born to form large packs and work hard for them. The Argos hadn’t stood a chance against the extraordinary Molossians.
I resumed going down, past the stern portraits of former dukes I couldn’t care less about.
Graves grabbed my arm. Instant, deep pain burst through me, not because Graves’s grip was particularly strong. My body had never recovered from Riley’s beating, the transformation, and the fever hospital. A light touch hurt as much as a stab and was as disgusting as a parasite infestation.
My inner demons, disguised as memories of those days, overwhelmed me.
But I’d improved through the years. If someone had touched me before, I would have fled in a panic, found a dark corner, and shivered until the pain and disgust had passed.
Now rage was the immediate reaction, and I welcomed it. It was better than fear.
“Don’t touch me. Ever. No one touches the duke.” I bared my fangs. “You’ve just arrived, but you’d better learn the rules because if you disrespect me again, there will be consequences.”
I’d also learnt to channel the pain and disgust into anger, and it worked.
His amber eyes filled with hatred. I was sure it was mirrored in mine.
I adjusted my waistcoat and jacket and strode towards the front door.
A footman helped Logan, the only other vampire in Raven Hall, don his coat.
“Where are you going?” I eyed his elegant outfit.
In a tailored suit, top hat, and fine coat, he passed for a gentleman. A century-old gentleman who looked no older than thirty.
He tugged at his leather gloves. “Out to feed, like you.”
“Not like me. I don’t kill.”
“It was an accident.” He pronounced ‘accident’ with three hissing Cs. “The man had a heart condition and didn’t survive the feeding.”
My arse. But I couldn’t prove Logan had intentionally killed that man. Hence, he was still breathing.
“Your Grace.” The butler had barely handed me my coat when Darius came running down the stairs.
“Alex!”
I gnashed my teeth. He was the only one in the court who called me Alex, but when he used that grave tone, a problem was about to bloody annoy me.
Graves headed for the opposite side, muscles swelling under his clothes. Poor sport.
“What?” Thirst scratched my throat. I had plenty of providers, but tonight I wanted something new.
Darius crossed the hall, floating. “It’s Myrtha. She brought another one.”
Rage flared again. What was the damn point of being Ravenhill, Duke of the Dark Court, if the courtiers defied me?
“Where is she?”
“Upstairs. West wing. She hasn’t completed the transformation yet.”
I strode upstairs, muttering curses. The servants stepped aside to let me pass. The mansion was big enough that it took me a few minutes to reach the west wing, even at my speed.
