Page 44 of Blood & Bedlam

As quickly as it has come, it goes. The shimmering field around me drops, and I see the world in a way I never could before. The crunch of stone underfoot sends my attention soaring, and when I land on the Goddess of Witchcraft, I feel her power, ancient and deep. Her eyes are wide, her dark skin paled with shock and moonlight, but the horror in her voice is unmistakable as she takes in my new form.

“What have we done?” she whispers, but it is a shout to my ears, loud like the crack of a whip. I can hear her blood pumping, the magic thrumming in her veins. I take a step closer, the fangs in my mouth leaking with venom. Another sound floats up over the crag in the roof, the moon bright and shining overhead. There are voices. There is the scraping of worn boots over weathered stone, the musk of sweat and blood. My enemies have followed me here.

My body moves before my mind decides to, and power fuels my leap as I extend my legs, pushing off the stone. My body flies through the air at breakneck speed, and I land hard on the outside of the crag. Below, there is a contingent of soldiers, swords drawn on their approach, blood pumping hot from fear and adrenaline. I suck in the scent, and something purrs inside my chest, pleased.

In a blink I am on them, tearing through their bodies, viciously rending flesh from bone. I sink my teeth into their necks, and flashes of moments slide past me, but I am too drunk on bloodlust to look closely. I relish their screams, bathe in the hot deluge of blood pumping from their veins as I tear them open, one by one.

I am baptized in their blood and death, the Prince of Wallachia no more as the Dracul rises.

My eyes are transfixed on the circle drawn into the stone, so like the one that made me. Only now, it’s Camille who will battle the reckoning. Risers sit on opposite sides of the circle, illuminated by the rapidly lightening sky above. I keep my expression neutral as we enter the chambers, but I need to speak with Cami before this begins. My steps slow, hand dropping from Reine’s. She glances up at me through those dark lashes, concern deeply set between her eyes, but I only kiss the back of her hand and step away. Drake and Claire fill the gap my body left, escorting her with the rest of our own.

I seek out my daughter, my darling girl, and find her in the small hallway off the main chamber. I need to tell her once more how much I love her, how being her father has been my greatest purpose in life. To beg her to forgive me for landing her in this situation, but I stop when I sense she isn’t alone.

Around the corner, the white blonde of her hair is braided tightly to her skull, wrapped and pinned to minimize target. She’s dressed in a black fitted shirt and pants that will make her more difficult to pin, but it’s the pain in her eyes that stops me in my tracks.

“Don’t. Don’t say it, not now,” she begs, and it’s the most gentle plea I’ve ever heard from her. Curiosity burns through me, but I see him then, watch him crowd into her space, bring his hand up to cup her cheek.

“If not now, then when? Hmm?” Tully’s voice is low, raw, and my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

“We said it was the last time.” The words drop from her lips, dripping in misery. I think my lungs have stopped working as panic claws through me.

“It’s always the last time. And after you put that motherfucker in the ground, when you’re in my arms tonight, we’ll say it’s the last time then too. Look at me.” His voice turns stern, and I avert my gaze, ashamed that I am stealing this moment from them. So many things fall into place for me—the tension, the anger between them.

Tully’s status as a Ranger shifted the moment he took the oath to serve me as an Eternal. The Royal Guard have to be loyal to Clan Dracul above all, which means not allowing relationships, marriages and Bonds included. To protect Cami during all of this, he forfeited his claim to be with her.

Against my will, my eyes find them again. Their faces are inches apart, burning into each other.

“It was the last time. I have a duty to my family. So do you.” There’s anger laced in her tone, wiping away the vulnerability like a wildfire. A muscle in Tully’s jaw flexes when he grinds his teeth, then rips his body away from hers.

“As you command, Princess.”

The thud of his boots grows louder, and I start walking myself. His eyes catch me and widen in surprise, and it’s a mark of how distracted they were together that neither of them sensed me.

“Sir.” I see trepidation in Tully’s face. He stands still, on guard, as I give him a brief nod and head toward Cami. I don’t know what I expect to see when I round the corner myself, but it’s not her face stoic, all emotion drained. There’s a small shake to her hands, but her eyes are free of tears.

“Little one?”

“Papa.” She holds her chin high, ever my defiant girl.

We stare at each other, and all the words leave my mind as I take her in. Her strength. Her power.

“I love you, Camille.”

“I know.” She smirks, and we both start when the first bell tolls. She has only minutes to report in. Our time is up. I brush my hand across her cheek, and then with a deep breath, she pulls away, heading straight for the door, marching straight past Tully. He turns automatically to follow.

Her Eternal. Her protector.

Fates, what have I done?

Reine

CHAPTER 23

The inky black of the sky fades to a dusky purple, peeking out from the six-foot-wide hole in the ceiling. On the ground, a golden circle is laid. Hecate stands over it, arms wide as she incants under her breath. Her partner, Hermes, stands guard, his eyes constantly pinging around the room. We sit on ornate risers with velvet cushions, opposite the Italian delegation. I’ve kept my head tilted toward Claire on my left as I wait for Vladimir to return. Our side sits in stoic silence, decked out in severe looks that would have had Makenna salivating, but the Italians are relaxed, joking even. The black dress I wear is couture, with a high neck and long sleeves, the hemline falling just above my knee. It’s elegant, but it shows the curves of my body in a way I’m not used to, elongating my legs with the heels Kendra has dolled me up with.

An orphan kid from the 4th doesn’t wear couture, and it shows with every shift and squirm, with every unsure step I took in these long, red stiletto heels.

I feel eyes on me, boring against my skull. It pulls my attention across the arena to a set of blue irises on a man I don’t know, but tingles of déjà vu pepper at the outskirts of my consciousness. He studies me, and I feel exposed under his assessment, weary of his judgment. A shiver runs down my spine, causing Claire to lean over, nudging her knee against mine.