Page 113 of Hunt Me

“I’d say,” Duke Mirren chimed in. “Turning werewolf blood into fine powder to blind your opponent? How clever.”

“With all due respect, gentlemen,” Luka interrupted finally, “The past few days have been long and weary. Shall we convene?”

“Of course,” Duke Gustafson agreed before briefly introducing the heads of the noble houses to Matilda. “We offer our condolences for your fallen and pray to the gods they didn’t suffer much.”

“Thank you,” Matilda whispered, searching for her beloved’s hand beneath the table. She relaxed slightly when he laced his fingers between hers.

“While we may have been silent, we have not been idle. We have been active, meeting with the other nobles and concerned citizens in our districts to address their issues. The main complaint, of course, is your human status. The vampires refuse to bow down to a human. However, they are apprehensive about challenging you after witnessing the fall of the House of Marquis, Belmore, and Bryne. There are fears that you will usurp King Alesi from the throne and deliver Night Falls back to the humans.”

Matilda smiled weakly.

“The thought never crossed my mind, but I can see how some would consider it a possibility,” she acknowledged.

Duke Gustafson returned Matilda’s smile with a soft one of his own that she didn’t think he was capable of.

“The noble houses are willing to accept Matilda as the Queen of Night Falls under one condition.”

“And what condition may that be?” Luka questioned suspiciously.

“She must be turned.”

42

Death Awaits

She must be turned.

The words ricocheted through Matilda’s head like words echoing down a long, empty corridor. Her tongue moistened her lips when her beloved finally spoke.

“Will they not reconsider?” he asked desperately. Duke Gustafson shook his head solemnly.

“No, my King. They will not. Turn her or face a mutiny.”

“She does not wish—”

“What we wish and what will be are not the same,” Duke Gustafson said firmly. Matilda gripped Luka’s fingers tightly and squeezed, stealing his attention from his mounting rage. “We know this is a difficult situation, but you are a wise king. You always knew this could be an outcome.”

Duke Gustafson turned to Matilda and asked, “How much longer are you with child?”

She gulped and absentmindedly caressed her belly.

“Perhaps a month,” she whispered.

His pale pink lips set into a firm line.

“I see. You were willing to die once to stand by your king—be willing to die twice for Night Falls.”

The room fell silent for what felt like an eternity when Matilda finally asked, “How will I be turned?”

“Matilda, you can’t—”

She raised a hand to silence her lover and asked again. “How will I be turned?”

“I will be happy to answer your question,” Duke Mirren volunteered.

“Thank you,” she replied through blinding tears. The last few days were catching up to her, and she was barely holding it together.

The heavy chair scraping beside her caught her attention.