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“You must take your father's place on the throne.”
FOURTEEN
Sebastian
“She should be back by now!” I stormed over to Sargon. “What’s happening?”
He pointed the Cane of Cineris at me, pulling from under his cloak. “Know your place, Sebastian, or I will return you to ash.”
Ravena patted his hand, lowering the cane. “I have the same question.” Her voice broke. “Where is our daughter?”
Sargon glanced at Olivia’s lifeless body, a tinge of gray covering her skin. My stomach was still full of her blood, and I wanted to throw it all up. “Tell me she isn’t dead.”
“Don’t pretend you care.” Kalon snarled from the shadowy corner of the throne room. “We both know you only married her because death was your only other option.”
“You,” I snarled, rage searing under my skin. I’d bet my wings he had something to do with this. He’d wanted her dead since the moment he learned of her existence. “You did this.”
He snorted, but I saw the hint of amusement on his thin lips. “Careful where you shoot your accusations.”
“I will fucking end you if you did!”
“Enough!” Sargon boomed, his hand around my neck before I could react, slamming me into a wall as his gold wings expanded from his back. “Know your place now, or I will have you thrown back in those dungeons. Prince or not.”
Erianna spoke up for the first time, moving to Olivia’s body. “Seb, calm yourself. Please. She may still come back. She would meet with the gods. This isn’t a normal Shadow Kissed ceremony.”
Niall gritted his teeth, a hiss in his words. “Listen to the traitor.”
“Don’t,” Erianna warned as a growl sounded low in my throat, and I aimed my anger at Niall. “I don’t care what he has to say about me.”
Niall clicked his tongue and sped to Olivia’s side, lifting her hand. I wanted to stop him, but Sargon’s grip tightened around my neck, lifting my feet from the floor. If he wasn’t the king, I’d have torn his head off. He let me go, landing me on the ground with a thud.
Clenching my jaw, I stood, my fingers flexing. “It’s been two hours.”
Ravena covered her mouth, a gulp bobbing her throat as her brown eyes glossed over with tears. It was the first time I’d seen genuine emotion from the woman. “She’s with the gods. That has to be it. She isn’t dead.” Her voice cracked at the end. “She can’t be.”
There were a thousand things I wanted to say to her, and Sargon. They were responsible for all of this. Olivia didn’t have to go through this bullshit ceremony. He didn’t need a princess. Only a daughter. Ravena should have done more to stop him, especially considering she was partially to blame for what happened. She had forced Olivia to wear that trailic when she didn’t want to. Servants heard everything these days, and the truths they whispered were sickening.
Instead, I stayed quiet, knowing I couldn’t help Olivia if I was dead. I pressed my hands together, as if in prayer, and placed the tips against my lips. Erianna had to be right. She would return.
That had to be true because the alternative couldn’t be. I didn’t have time to tell her about the burning connection I felt with her, not only when we were in bed. She was so beautifully mortal—in every way.
Yet, I was a murderer who tore out men's hearts, tortured enemies and enjoyed it. I’d fucked my way through more women than I could count over the last three years, allowing my lust to steal my morals. Even in my final moments, I’d let Gwen suck my dick, if only to feel anything but the looming presence of death.
Then Olivia was there, growing on me. Caring for her happened like falling asleep. Slowly, then all at once. There was a tie to her I could not understand. It settled my heavy heart by being with her in bed and holding her close to me. Yet, I couldn’t shake knowing I wasn’t good enough for her.
She took away people’s pain with one touch. While I caused it.
I admired the freedom in her smile and felt almost mortal when I was with her. It was the closest I’d come to gaining back any morality for myself.
Azia walked in holding his staff, wearing velvet robes flowing out around his feet. “Your Majesty.”
He was the only one who didn’t bow to the king. I respected him for that. Because he knew what Sargon hated—that Azia was far more powerful, even more so than a vampire king.
Sargon rubbed his forehead, ironing out the wrinkles forming from his frown. “Olivia has not yet returned to us. I need you to see if she has been tampered with—magically.”
Niall instinctively moved toward her when Azia touched her. What the hell was his problem?
Her gasp jolted all of us. Olivia sat up, before Azia could have time to do anything. Her eyes fluttered open. She was beautiful, Immortal, and most importantly, alive.
