Page 69

“Can Adrian use it?”

“Not while the outer gate remains shut. These rooms answered to the crowned queen and the Blood King. Adrian can damage the doors from outside, but he can’t walk in unless Harrowmere accepts him or you let him through.”

The red line that had marked the limit of Stellan’s chain went dark. Iron moved behind him with a hard scrape, paying out from the throne room until a loose length covered the floor.

Stellan set me on my feet and pulled my shirt down over my thighs. My knickers lay near the wall, well beyond rescue.

“The court has bloody awful timing,” I said.

His gaze moved over my bare legs. “I wouldn’t call it entirely wasted.”

“You don’t have to walk through a newly opened vampire court without underwear.”

“Give me another ten minutes and neither will I.”

The warmth in his voice made my face heat. He fastened his trousers as well as the ruined fabric allowed, then rose with one hand against the wall.

His legs held. Colour had returned to his skin, and only dried blood remained where the collar had cut his throat. The iron around his waist stayed in place, but the chain followed when he took a careful step towards the bedroom.

“Stay here,” he said. “If it tightens, I’d rather it didn’t pull you down with me.”

I gathered my abandoned knickers with two fingers. “Fine. But if the chain throws you across the room again, I’m finding trousers before I help.”

Stellan reached the old boundary near the first chair. The chain slid after him without resistance. He took another step, then another, until he stood at the bedroom door.

He put his hand on the frame and looked back at me. The smile that reached his face was small and completely real.

“I can enter the whole suite.”

The simple pleasure in his voice affected me more than another filthy remark would have. For a century, he hadn’t been able to reach a proper bed, close a door or use the bath. Now he could cross the room because I’d fed him and stayed.

I picked up the blanket from the chair and wrapped it around my waist. “Try the bath. Your shirt has reached the point where burning it would be an act of kindness.”

He looked down at the blood and the mess we’d made, then headed for the bathroom without defending the shirt.

The chain followed him across the threshold and lay loose behind his feet.

“Hot water,” he said. “This may be the best chain you’ve opened.”

I found clean clothes in the wardrobe while he washed at the basin. Harrowmere had supplied black leggings and a soft green jumper. Fresh underwear waited under them and fitted perfectly. I’d stopped asking how the house knew my size because I wouldn’t like the answer.

When I came out of the bedroom, Stellan had removed his torn shirt and cleaned the blood from his chest. Damp silver hair rested against his shoulders. The raven tattoo covered most of his back, its spread wings broken by old scars.

He turned when I approached. “You’re staring.”

“You’ve spent hours arranging opportunities for it.”

Stellan held out his hand. “Come and see the lower court with me. We’ll check the nearest doors and return before Harrowmere decides to change anything else.”

I put my hand in his. His fingers were warm from the water, and the open cuff had left a dark band around his wrist. The waist chain followed us into the new hall.

The first doors led to empty guard rooms. The second pair opened onto a dining room with a table long enough for twenty people. We left the remaining doors alone. I wasn’t interested in exploring another cursed wing while half the house was still awake and angry.

A silver line curved around the entrance to the royal suite. It brightened when Stellan crossed and settled once I followed.

“That line recognises both of us,” he said. “It’ll warn us if another vampire enters the lower court.”

“Warn us how?”