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But she hadn’t spoken in anger. She stared up at me, trembling. Pleading.

We’d both admitted our fear of the rituals. We’d both declared our abhorrence for the blood, though only in hushed tones, and only to each other.

I’d sworn to her that after we married and I’d taken rule, I would find ways to extract the power without the blood. I was certain there must be a way, that the generations before us had simply been too greedy to find it.

But the hunt was a different magik, one neither of us understood. Used in a multitude of ways. We’d both been in rooms in which adults planned and anticipated, hungering to hunt others—both young and old. The worst were Cruor parties we’d spent with families that included hollowblood—the magikless—children, prior to a celebratory hunt. We’d both seen that most prey returned in the hands of people they had not arrived with—if they returned at all. We’d seen the wounds and the trophies, and heard the boasting of the adults in the days following those sacraments.

Neither of us was naïve to what would happen to Cali if I wasn’t there to protect her.

But, I was too young. Cruor offspring weren’t considered true adults until their sixteenth birthdays. And no matter who was prey, or why, only adults were given leave to hunt.

Cali cried most of the night.

My agitation peaked at dawn. I dressed and went in search of my parents.

“I am the Heir!” I snapped, standing before my father’s desk in his imposing study. The double-height ceiling rose so high, it felt disproportionate even to the spacious floor plan.

That evening, my father sat on the other side of his desk, my mother on his knee, smiling at me.

“You cannot be named Heir Apparent until you have reached manhood—and that won’t happen for another six months. At least.”

I let the warning slide and shook my head. “Have I not proved myself—proved the power that rides my veins?”

“Of course you have, Vane,” Mother sighed. “But the traditions are in place for a reason—”

“You have always encouraged me to challenge the traditions, to believe in my abilities. And it’s brought me here!”

“And I look forward to bearing witness to your progress in a few months,” my father rumbled. “But there are practical reasons we don’t allow children to the hunt.”

“There are plenty of children thrown into the hunt,” I spat.

Mother’s smile dropped, and Father shot me a warning look.

“Prey are not hunters. You know that.”

“The women—”

“The women are proving their strength, and testing ours. You speak of things you do not yet know, Vane.”

“I know enough!” I insisted, though my confidence on that point wavered. “And I have carried myself through every challenge you’ve set. Now, I challenge you: Let me take my place in the ranks now. Let me show the men who I am and what I’m capable of. Let me show them their coming Dominus!”

Mother looked over her shoulder as Father slid her from his knee and got to his feet, striding around the desk as if he’d come for me, but I stood my ground.

He still stood over me by inches, and was a great deal heavier, though I’d filled out in the preceding year. I’d been on the receiving end of his lightning-quick reflexes, and witnessed his ability to move like vapor. But he’d been training me, as well. I wasn’t without my own power.

“You are not Dominus yet, you little shit.” When he reached my toes and his hand shot out, I grasped the power they’d fueled and fed in my veins, and showed them what I’d shown no one but Cali.

To their eyes, I became vapor that faded in a blink, then coalesced at my mother’s side.

Both of them froze. My mother’s eyes widened and her expression became avid. “Vane, how—”

“I am the Heir!” I muttered at my father, ignoring her. “I’m the next in line. I’m not asking to take over—I’ll serve my part—but do not shackle me when my power outstrips even yours!”

My father’s eyes narrowed. “You demonstrate your ignorance in even making such a—”

“Darling, think,” my mother hissed.

His jaw tightened, but his eyes slid to her. She continued to stare at me hungrily, hands gripping her skirts. “The youngest Heir to step into his birthright,” she whispered. “The strongest blood magik in history. He could take the sacrifice in two years and—”