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“Get the fuck out of my bed so I can get some beauty sleep. You really don’t want to test me when I’m sleep deprived.” And damn him, Chase cracks the hint of a smile.
“Oh, I really do,” he mutters. With a gasp, Chase rips himself from my grip and rolls off the side of the bed, crotch in hand. Torsten doesn’t bother trying to fight further, retreating with a blood-smeared face as he and Chase leave the room like a pair of wounded soldiers.
Dropping my head back on the cushions, I sigh before picking up on Jaxon’s heartbeat from beside the bathroom door. Piercing blue eyes don’t leave mine, his fingers twitching by his side. He takes a step closer, then another until he’s leaning over the bed. Just as I open my mouth, ready with another threat, he lifts the covers and gently pulls them over me, tucking the cotton into my sides.
“You’d make a great addition to the vampire army if you weren’t royalty,” he whispers, and as I lie there, he places a single kiss on my forehead. “Sweet dreams, Aspen.”
* * *
“If you’reready to move further within the castle, Princess,” a sweet woman with hair as black as the raven shifter who’s disappeared guides me through the botanical gardens.
“Please, just call me Aspen,” I repeat for the hundredth time. She inclines her head and smiles, although I know she won’t. The inner doors slide open, presenting the hallway of the east wing, and both me and the entourage at my back pause. Powerful scents tingle my nostrils uncomfortably, but thankfully the migraine doesn’t return. Sighing in relief, I step over the threshold and realize I did so alone.
Catching sight of the three behind me, they incline their heads and stride back through the gardens the way we came. Suddenly, I feel exposed. Unprotected. Only the knowledge that at least Jaxon wouldn’t have left if I was anything other than safe permits me to continue Morevan’s tour.
“I’ve spoken with Nova, the king’s assistant, about you having a patch of the garden to care for yourself, if you would like that?” the female enquires, her tone light and friendly. She’s much taller than me, rivaling the height of the males, but where they are all brute strength and muscle, Morevan is extremely thin. Even her voice sounds fragile, too soft to bounce off the stone castle walls.
“I would love that,” I smile. I have yet to see the king again since I basically blamed him for ruining my mother’s life, but I’m sure he wouldn’t deny me the request of planting some white dead-nettles like the ones climbing my mother’s gravestone. In fact, I reckon he’d allow me to create an entire memorial. If the hushed whispers between the vamps at the cabin are anything to go by, Lorcan needs me to move into the castle as soon as possible for some unknown reason, but with that comes a decent amount of leverage.
“This is our library,” Morevan pushes a huge, curved door open. I should help, by the way her arms are shaking, but my jaw is too busy dropping to the ground. More books than I could have ever imagined line the curved hall, their floor-to-ceiling bookcases only interrupted by the circular windows up high. Alcoves of cushions have been created beneath each one, providing a true sanctuary for those needing an escape. Either side of the room has a brass, curving staircase leading to a second story of heaven.
“The female vampires take shifts throughout the east wing, but we all have our preferences. Mine is the garden,” Morevan’s warm brown eyes sparkle at the mere mention. Now, I notice those appearing between the bookshelves, equally as tall and slender as Morevan. I tug on the baggy hoodie I was provided, conscious of my larger breasts, ample curves, and thicker thighs.
“Do you think it possible for me to borrow some books to take back to the cabin? I can get the guys to take a stack each,” I force a smile that Morevan doesn’t reciprocate.
“Aside from the king, males aren’t allowed in the east wing. Especially those in the army.” I frown, a protective streak rising within before I can determine where it’s coming from. Morevan’s eyes widen, her head bowing of it’s on accord. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to insult your candidates. What I meant to say was that this is our sanctuary. Away from those who are ruled by their primal urge to breed. It’s for our safety.” Morevan closes the library door, urging me to follow, but I remain frozen in place.
“What do you mean, candidates?” Morevan peers back, the small smile on her face slipping.
“For the Moon Bound trails,” her voice drops, and her eyebrow hitches. “They have told you of the trails, surely?”
“Of course,” I fake a smile, flapping my hand between us. “I just didn’t realize everyone else knew.”
“Oh,” Morevan stifles a small laugh. We continue to walk, and this time, I keep up the pace to hang onto her every word. “The trials are an event for be sure, even for the common female like me, but yours - the entire castle has been preparing for years.” Dread trickles through me.
“Years?” I search for the right thing to say. Whatever keeps her talking. “Wow, I didn’t think it would be so…public.”
“Naturally,” Morevan inclines her head. “Only the best will do for the future king of our species. You, being the older princess. will put your future mate in line for the throne. It’s why the king insisted the entire army must participate to ensure the strongest bloodline. And given that you are half shifter, you shouldn’t bear the infertility problem the other vampire females suffer from. Tell me, is it true wolf-kind birth entire litters at once?” My gut twists, and my feet refuse to take another step. To my left, an elongated gallery presents my escape from Morevan’s probing stare.
“Would you mind if I…” Words fail me as I try to be polite. Oh, screw it. “I need to be alone,” I demand sharply. I hate myself for the vicious tone, but what’s worse – Morevan doesn’t flinch. She smiles, curtseys, and leaves while shame gnaws away at my insides. I’m not this privileged bitch they expect me to be. With royalty comes an expectation that one can be an outright dick that no one can challenge, but I never want to be that person. I just need a moment to compute everything she’s unknowingly told me.
Candidates. Trials. Future king. My mate.Other princess.
Ducking through the door left ajar, I head for the bay window at the gallery's rear. The display room is filled with masterpieces, from paintings and sculptures to ceramics which must have been created in the females’ art studios. The walls are lined with intricate flourishes of wood, carved from top to bottom between the canvases hanging on them.
Like all others I’ve seen, the ceiling is impossibly high, making me feel like an ant in a giant's world. This one, in particular, is breathtaking. Gold leaves travel around the edges and towards the center until they meet to form large flowers. Between artfully painted figures depicting the vampires at war, crystal chandeliers highlight the sculptures forming a line down the center.
One sculpture halts me in my tracks for reasons I can't quite pinpoint. Crafted from white marble, it portrays a girl lying on her side, her hair cascading over her face. Though her modesty remains intact, she appears vulnerable. Every detail, from the lifelike contours of her body to the silky texture of her hair, speaks to the artist's extraordinary skill. But it's the emotion emanating from the figure that truly captivates me. She embodies a sense of hopelessness, a feeling of isolation. Even though we share physical traits like her petite stature and curved frame, there's something…more… about her that resonates deeply within my soul.
I’ve been this girl before-- experienced that crushing hopelessness, the endless void yearning to be filled. As I stand here, gazing at her, long-forgotten emotions seep back into my chest, feelings that haven't haunted me as much lately. They'll never completely vanish, but there's a new sensation now—something light and airy that sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
A hand softly grips my shoulder the way Sawyer’s claw would. My heart squeezes painfully, so much that I don’t even care who is behind me. He shifts, dragging across my fluttering pulse, causing me to shiver. The roughness of those fingertips speaks of years of violence, but the gentleness speaks directly to my inner beast. She rears her ugly head, taking control of my actions. I press my cheek against the back of the hand as it cups my jaw and take a moment to let Torsten’s scent wash over me, breathing him in as if he could douse the negative feelings within.
“Forgive me. I shouldn’t be here,” he whispers into my ear.
“So why are you?” I reply just as quietly. He’s breaking rules to be here with me and damn if I can’t appreciate how out of character that is for him.
"I don't have an answer to that question, just like you don't have a reason for not pushing me away yet." The word 'yet' lingers in the air. Surprisingly, Torsten guides me towards the expansive bay window overlooking the sea and leads me into a concealed alcove at the back of the room. Nestled between the window and the wall behind him, he wraps his arm around my waist, his cheek brushing against mine.
