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Rage consumed each word, smothering anything else I’d planned to say. What is it he wanted? What would he believe?
I reached out again, my magic spreading like arms outward, curling into him, feeling his emotions. Closing my eyes, I found the thing I was looking for.
It matched the pain I’d felt countless times when Astor and I were together, and I would catch him betraying yet another promise. It lowered my self-esteem, and I felt the same ache in my father. I’d hurt him.
Opening my eyes to the stark white, I breathed fog into the air. “I’m sorry.” Droplets of rain clung to my dress as dark clouds formed overhead. A storm was coming, and I could see two sets of wings in the distance as vampires made their way back to court. “I wouldn’t have been able to kill you. It’s why I didn’t attack. It felt wrong because, despite everything, you are my dad.”
A pang of something shot through him, but I was pushed out before I could feel it properly. His expression softened a little, and I noticed a gloss in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. Neither of us moved, standing like statues. The bus of mortals finally reached the drawbridge and let out a deflated whoosh as it pulled up and braked.
“Let me teach you.” He gestured for me to follow as he strode to the opening doors of the bus. “You’re the princess now and need to know how things work.”
My heart swelled as relief took over. He may not have responded, but his silence was answer enough. For a man with little compassion, there was love in there. It was just tucked away, and it was for me. Sebastian had told me that Sargon became obsessive, to the point of frantic paranoia with my mom and me as an infant. It was toxic, scary, but it was driven by love, and on some base level, I could understand it. Even if I didn’t agree with his actions at all.
It was going to make it harder to murder him one day.
“This is the latest crop,” a beefy man with a thick mustache told my father. One by one, people emptied through the doors. Chains dragged over the uneven ground as cuffed mortals trudged into the castle, the liquor-tainted scent from blood dens still on their skin.
Sargon stepped forward, evaluating each of them with a tilted head and a bored expression. He pointed out a gaunt woman and a man with a thick mop of brown hair. “Those two can go straight into the dungeons with the others. Lead the others into the kitchens. We need more staff with the King of Asland’s arrival tomorrow.”
The man nodded and grabbed one mortal’s arms who’d paused for breath against a wall. “You’re slowing the others,” he growled, and my heart skipped a beat. Their accusing eyes glided over me as the last of them made their way through the doors.
Draven stepped out, the muscles in his arms bulging as he balled his fists, staring after the mortals. Erianna walked out after, bowing her head in our direction, whereas Draven just grabbed the hilt of his sword.
The king glanced away from them, his disapproving gaze moving to mine. “Do not stay long with your friends. We have work to do.”
I nodded. “Of course, Father.” I tried but failed to keep the clipped tone from my voice.
He paused, unsaid words teetering on his lips, but left before he could express them.
Once they were gone, and the smell of disappointment and depression had disappeared with them, I sucked in a deep breath. Draven walked to me slowly, his eyes unblinking. “You’re not a vampire.”
“Just immortal,” I said with a small smile. “I was given the same elixir from the story you told me about Salenia and her lover, Vener.”
He looked me up and down, pausing on my lips, his brow lowering. “You seem the same, but there are differences.”
I shrugged, a tendril of regret coiling around my core. “All my imperfections are gone.”
His chest heaved, his frown deepening. “They weren’t imperfections.”
“Draven…” I hesitated. Sargon said I would need to kill Draven after the ceremony, to turn him into a vampire. It was an agreement I had no plans on fulfilling. “I’ve been thinking, and you need to leave,” I said, lowering my voice to a whisper. I raised a brow at Erianna, and she nodded. “The king will not wait long before he expects me to fulfill my obligations.”
“No.” He stood taller, the muscle in his jaw feathering. “You are not a vampire, and therefore cannot turn me. He must understand that.”
“He will still want you to be a vampire, even if it is done by someone else.”
Erianna’s breath hitched. Knowing threaded between us, and she turned to face him. “Olivia’s right. The king will not want a mortal in his guard. So unless you want to become a feeding bag, you should go. We can help you escape.”
Concern wrinkled his forehead. I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of his honey shampoo. He had been a part of my life for so long, and I’d hoped I could keep him here if I became queen, but that was no longer an option. Even if I somehow took the crown, he would still be a mortal amongst evil. I was only surprised he’d made it this long without dying.
“Liv.”
My stomach dipped. “Please don’t argue. You know I’m right. It’s only so long before one of them gets hungry and decides you’re the closest snack. I couldn’t bear it if they…” I trailed off as disturbed images of his broken, blood-drained body floated in my mind.
Erianna chimed in. “Sebastian and Zach can fly you out of here. We can get enough stagma to buy you passage back to Baldoria. The guild will take care of you from there. They’ve been searching for you, and Ravena.”
I pinched my eyelids shut to prevent the tears from forming. His leaving was the right thing for him, and my care for his safety far outweighed my selfish desire to keep my friend with me. “Please, Draven.”
He closed the distance between us, grabbing my wrist, his pleading gaze boring into mine. “We can go together.” He glanced at Erianna before looking back at me. “All of us. Let’s get out of this place.”
