AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why do you allow him to get under your skin?”
Blowing out a flustered breath, Rukia rolled her shoulders in agitation. “He’s an insufferable sociopath driven by sarcasm and spite. My apologies if he simply rubs me the wrong way.”
“I understand.”
“What’s with that tone?” Rukia narrowed her eyes at his eager acceptance.
“You speak of him with such vehemence and hatred, Rukia.” A slow smirk widened his lips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were deliberately building up fences.”
She shot him a dark look. “Don’t. I get enough of it from Jeremiah.”
“Just looking out for you, Rukia.”
“Well, don’t.” She didn’t need his brotherly advice. “I can handle myself.”
The Elemental monarch dipped his chin respectfully. “Of that, I have no doubt. You’re my priority, Rukia, and Isaiah hasn’t made a secret of his intentions toward you. If he gets pushy, then let me know.”
She gave him a single nod before taking a restorative breath. “Anyway. I’ll keep an eye out for the bloodsuckers.”
Rukia stood to leave; Gideon’s attention was already refocusing on his work. Finding her way out toward the foyer, she found the vampire councilors already in the parking lot. She thumbed a text to Gideon and Jeremiah while she strode out to greet them.
She dreaded the night ahead.
Chapter Four
Isaiahwaslate.Andhe didn’t particularly care.
Planned months in advance, the Peace Accords Gala would host immortals from every nation. Pandering and preening would be required, small talk a necessity. But he was never one to schmooze, and pretending he had anything in common with the other immortals sounded like the worst kind of torture.
It’d been decades since he’d worn anything formal. Masquerading as part of the stifling crush of upper society had never been his scene and he detested the inflexibility of a suit. He far preferred his well-worn fighting leathers or a T-shirt to something restrictive.
He would, however, dutifully play the part—if only for the sake of his people.
Descending the wooden stairs from the third floor of his contemporary home, he sighed heavily. Derikles would be here soon if he weren’t already. From the windows of the living quarters, he spotted a pair on the terrace just outside. Circe and Lucius stood together, the vampire’s arm wrapped possessively around his mate’s waist.
Every time he saw them together, Isaiah gave pause.
After a clash with a neighboring clan, Circe’s mother had passed away and left her an orphan. Barely three decades into her young life, Isaiah had assumed the role of her guardian. She’d lived with him for the hundred years that followed, as she came into her abilities.
With no children of his own, Isaiah had formed a unique attachment to the young Raeth that he’d never had with anyone else. There was no denying the fact that he still held paternal feelings toward her, more than a hundred years later.
When she mated with Lucius, he’d been astonished. No one in his clan had ever mated someone of a different immortal species before, and the repercussions of such an event were unknown at the time. Understandably, he’d been wary, but had encouraged Circe to explore her feelings—afterhis initial vitriol wore off.
The vampire was undeniably a decent man.
Sliding open the door to join them, Isaiah stepped into the dry heat of the Utah desert. Around them lay the barren terrain and rough foliage that sparsely dotted the landscape, dusty red mountains lingering in the hazy distance. It was a view he never grew tired of.
“Sovereign.” Circe’s ruby red lips twisted into a genuine smile as she turned to greet him, the tempered scarlet of her hair beautifully coiled into an elegant updo that sat just off her shoulders. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you in a tux.”
“Torture, most assuredly.”
Lucius wore his typical grin, clearly comfortable in the trappings of formality. Of South-Asian descent, the vampire’s complexion was similar to his own, but Lucius stood several inches taller. A warrior through and through, he’d fought valiantly when theCitizensabducted him, but four bullets and a heavy sedative had yanked him into unconsciousness. Even vampires, renowned for their healing prowess, couldn’t weather such wounds.
The vampire inclined his head. “Isaiah.”
“Luc.”
As a younger member of his clan, Circe hadn’t been an obvious choice for inclusion in the original summit, nor the Gala. Including her had been a calculated move on his part.
