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My stomach lurched. “Perhaps not, but you made one fatal mistake in all of this.”
“What’s that?”
“You said I didn’t want Sebastian.” My lips curled at the corners as I relished seeing the torment behind his eyes. “But you’re wrong. He’s a far better fuck than you ever were.” Lies, all of it. I hadn’t slept with him, although the moments between Sebastian and me lingered. My breath hitched as I recalled the feel of his lips against mine. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, and I could almost feel the way his fingers tangled in my hair when he’d kissed me.
“You’re lying.” Astor’s expression deepened; the lines of his face were far more prominent than I’d ever seen them. He never moved his intrusive stare from mine as I watched betrayal drown him. Then, closing the distance between us, before I could ready myself for the blow I was sure would happen, his lips were on mine, enveloping me in a moment of lost love.
“No,” I shouted into his mouth, pushing him away. “Never do that again,” I bellowed, breathless, as I stumbled back.
His lips trembled, his gaze darting up and down.
“I will have you killed if you do,” I threatened, darkness filling me up I didn’t even know was there.
He clenched his jaw. “Fine, but never say I didn’t offer you a different path.” He turned, speeding out before leaving me with my mouth open and many more vicious words fresh on my tongue. I took in a deep breath, filling my lungs to capacity. I wouldn’t shed another tear over that asshole. He didn’t deserve a single one of them.
I slammed the door behind him and let out a small scream behind closed lips. How dare he kiss me like that? If I told Gwen what he did, I was confident she’d try to kill us both. But maybe it would be worth it? Touching my lips with my shaking fingers, I could still taste the kiss on me and with it the pain of feeling him one last time, the man I’d loved and devoted myself to for years.
He was the ultimate proof of how much of a monster someone could come by becoming immortal. Although, he’d betrayed the guild before he was a vampire. If it wasn’t for the years of moments we’d shared, I would have had him executed already.
I’m sure my mom already tried, but my father was far more willing to accept my requests than hers. He’d made her into a vampire instead of keeping her as a sorceress, which would be far more useful to him. She said it was because he couldn’t bear losing her again, but I knew better. Making her into one of them ensured she remained at his side forever, and divorce was illegal here. It made sense, but vampirism was also a punishment. She’d taken everything from him, or so he believed, and now he’d stripped her of the main thing she loved about herself—her magic.
It meant far more to her than it ever did to me.
Wiggling my fingers, I felt my powers move under my skin, ready to be used. I’d practiced a little but didn’t give them too much thought. They’d be gone soon, anyway.
A sigh crept from my lips, and I sat on my bed. I gazed at the veil before turning off the light and falling back on my pillows. Slowly, I drifted into dark daydreams of Erianna, wingless and hiding. Of Anna being fed on as a mortal blood bag. I had no way of helping them right now. I tried, but the king had already allowed me Sebastian and Draven’s lives and saw it as a weakness to forgive two more traitors for their sins.
Sleep came quickly, and in the middle of the night, sometime between the first drips of purple in the indigo sky and sunrise, I swore I could feel someone watching me from the shadows as I wrestled with my nightmares.
THREE
Sebastian
Victory.
Listening to Sargon’s speech, bringing the entire throne room to a cheer, anyone would think it was inevitable. My eyes moved to Kalon, who stood at his brother’s side in the throne room, nodding as if he believed every word.
Liar.
Along with a handful of nobles, he and I knew we had no chance if Asland launched their attack. Kalon was as sly as they came, a wolf posing as a sheep, but he was smart under all of that. Probably more intelligent than anyone else at court—and just as hateful.
Sanmorte was stuck in the dark ages while the rest of the world had moved forward. We’d lagged in technology and weaponry, refusing to acknowledge there was even a modern era. I knew it, even missed it. I had a cellphone, but it stayed in my nightstand drawer, gathering dust. There was little point in using it when only a few in this kingdom had one.
It was useful sometimes, however. Like when I’d gone to Baldoria to spy on Olivia, ensuring she was the lost princess, stealing her away before Kalon’s secret order—Nightshade—could sink their teeth into her. I’d used it to keep in touch with Zach and Erianna, who’d not wanted to get back into the technological world since. It made sense. They’d spent most of their lives in this kingdom and were centuries old. While I had only been a vampire for three years.
Applause erupted around me as Sargon finished spewing his bullshit, and I clapped, forcing a clenched smile. As a senior royal, I stood up front on the first step leading to the thrones. Soon, I would be Prince of Sanmorte, consort to the princess, who I was glad was not here.
Olivia and I hadn’t spoken once since I’d been brought up from the dungeons and told I would be her husband. My throat tightened as I thought about how I would be dead if she didn’t choose me as her groom.
I ran my finger along my neck, imagining my head on the executioner’s block. When a hand touched my shoulder, I almost heard an ax slicing through the air. I jolted, a rare reaction and one I wish I hadn’t shown. Weakness was like poison in this court. Once it took root, it left a mark forever.
Gwen sped to my side, pursing her lips. The last time I’d seen her was only days ago, when she was sucking my dick in the dungeons when we both believed I was about to be executed. She came to say goodbye and wasn’t aware that I knew she’d been behind the plot to frame me. Gwen believed it would be Olivia who would take the fall and not me. She should have known better than to believe Kalon. I’d learned that a long time ago.
Gwen waved as Sargon smiled in our direction. He lifted his goblet of blood, which splashed over the edges, spitting crimson onto the polished stone.
“Are you still mad?” she asked, her voice lower than a whisper.
Chatter rose, and the crowd dissipated as the king sat back on his throne, pulling a disgruntled Ravena onto his lap. Mortals were led in and sat at the tables, perfect specimens for today’s lunch.
