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He'd suggested she stay behind because he didn’t know how Kitana would react to watching innocent humans sacrificed on stage to a dark god they didn’t worship. While he had prepared her as best he could for the horrors she might encounter at the Iron Spire, he knew his little witch. She had a very strong sense of justice, and even if she could stomach watching the human sacrifices, he knew it would kill her on the inside to stand by and do nothing as they were killed in cold blood in front of thousands of people.

There was also the matter of the mandatory bloodwine communion, which Kitana would not have been exempted from even if she was still 'human'. Maximillian didn’t know why Kitana had such a violent aversion to blood—he’d seen her flinch on more than one occasion when she’d watched him or hischildren consume it—but he didn’t need her vomiting in the aisle and drawing even more attention to herself.

Especially not from the crown prince.

But then again, it was Casimir who’d made a spectacle of himself tonight, not Kitana. And what a spectacle it had been, watching him collapse to the floor, his limbs flailing like a puppet being jerked around on strings. Everyone thought the bloodwine had poisoned him at first, but the prince had come back to himself only a few seconds later, claiming that the dark god had granted him a vision.

Maximillian wasn’t entirely sure he believed that. But he remembered feeling Casimir’s eyes on him before the service started, and knew the crown prince had been searching for Kitana. He could sense there was something between them—an invisible tether that pulled them toward one another, and for the life of him, Maximillian couldn’t understand what it was about, or why the gods would do this to him.

Could she be an amorte?He wondered as he leaned against the wall, watching Kitana sleep soundly. She was curled on her side in the fetal position, her dark lashes fanning against her cheekbones, her lips slightly parted.

Maximillian was utterly obsessed with those lips. They were rosebud pink, the lower one fuller than the upper, and he was consistently tempted by the urge to lean in and tug it with his teeth.

He’d fantasized about kissing her a thousand times, wondering how her lips would feel, how they would taste.

Wondering how they would look wrapped around his cock.

He shook his head to clear the vision from his mind even as he grew hard. It wouldn’t do for him to torture himself with lustful thoughts about her, especially since he had no intention of waking her. At least not anymore. He had come in here wanting to question her, to see if he could get to the bottom of this connection she had with the crown prince, but she was sleeping so peacefully, he was loath to disturb her.

She can't be an amorte,Maximillian told himself, running a hand through his hair. Kitana was a witch—a child of Hecate, not Phaeros. It was impossible for witches to bear vampire children.

And if itwaspossible, and shewasfated to be the mother of Casimir’s children, then the gods had well and truly cursed Maximillian. For he was utterly besotted with the little witch, and he would gladly murder anyone who so much as looked at her with desire. Even if that someone happened to be the son of the most powerful vampire in Valentaera.

But that was a problem for another day, Maximillian told himself as he pushed off the wall. Tomorrow came with a more immediate problem—defeating Lazarus in single-armed combatwithoutkilling him in the process.

So, he brushed a lock of hair away from Kitana’s face, kissed her forehead, then disappeared into the night to prepare for battle.

32

Kitana

“Imust admit, this is the most exciting part of the Summit for me,” Marisse gushed as we walked through the fairgrounds. “We get to eat and drink to our heart’s content and spend the entire day watching all these performances of strength and skill!”

I nodded around a mouthful of grilled mushrooms as we stopped outside an arena to watch a Stellaris female and a Psychoros male go head to head in some kind of dart board game. The targets were set at insane distances, much too far away for a human, but both vampires hit them with incredible accuracy, the Psychoros vampire using his telekinesis to guide the darts, while the Stellaris woman used controlled burst of shadowfire to subtly manipulate her darts, giving them an extra boost to propel them forward every time she threw one. The two of them threw the darts faster than the eye could follow, the audience cheering them on as the game operator called out increasingly difficult targets.

“It would be a lot more fun if we could participate,” I said as we moved on.

“Participate?” Marisse laughed. “What would be the point? There’s no way we could win against even the weakest of these vampires.”

We stopped by a food stall so Marisse could purchase a grilled fish for lunch. The human running the stall seemed well-cared for enough, though a little ragged, his vampire master nowhere to be found. “What do you think?” I asked him, just for the hell of it. “Do you think humans should be allowed to participate in the games?”

The slave blinked, as if surprised to be addressed directly, even by other humans. “I don’t really see what the point would be unless the human in question had magic,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t have any, but I had a friend who could create little breezes if she thought hard enough. That might be useful for some of these games.”

We continued on, biding our time until the main events began. I’d woken up this morning feeling more rested than I had in weeks—and with Maximillian’s scent clinging to my skin, as though he’d embraced me recently. But that made no sense. I hadn’t seen him since the previous morning after the summit session had been cut short, and I’d bathed before bed. I’d wondered if he’d come to visit me last night, and had gone to search for him so I could ask him myself, only to be told by the house guards he was off doing some last-minute training with Lucius in preparation for his combat match.

Part of me had wanted to watch them work, but I remembered how distracted I’d been when I noticed him watching me spar with Sparrow, and the disastrous consequences that hadfollowed. I didn’t think the same thing would happen with Maximillian if I walked in on him, but it was better not to take chances. It was important for him to stay focused, especially with the ugly looks Lazarus had been giving him all week. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Sanguis Noctis heir tried to maim Maximillian during the match. Vampires could heal from a lot of things, but some injuries, such as the severing of a limb, took much longer to heal than others. If Maximillian was temporarily crippled, he would become an easy target once the summit ended and everyone began the return journey to their homes.

Marisse stopped to watch a trio of Stellaris performers juggle balls of shadowfire, but my attention was drawn to the shot put field a few feet away. This was no ordinary shot put; rather than using standard-sized shots, the vampires were heaving man-sized boulders across the field.

“No magic,” the operator warned as a Psychoros vampire approached, rubbing his hands together with glee. “This is a strength game only.”

The telekinetic slumped off, obviously disappointed, and I moved closer to watch the competition. The vampires were mostly from House Invictus, though a few Sanguis Noctis and Stellaris vampires had joined in with a valiant effort. Their throws would have been impressive in any other setting, but their performances paled in comparison to the Invictus vampires as they launched their shots with the terrifying strength their house was known for. The boulders flew through the air, landing hundreds of yards away with ground-shaking impacts that left craters in the barren field.

“Amateurs,” a deep voice said from behind me.

I spun around to see Casimir Invictus standing behind me, arms folded across his broad chest in what I was coming to recognize as his default stance. His muscles strained against his white shirt and red waistcoat as he stared over my head at the competitors, and if he hadn’t spoken aloud, I would have thought he was ignoring my presence.

“Your Highness,” I said, curtsying respectfully even as my heart pounded. I’d been so focused on the event that I hadn’t even noticed the tugging in my chest. “I’m surprised to see you up and about. I heard rumors you were unwell last night.”

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