Page 16 of Sold to the Dark Vampire Prince

If his brother wasn’t sneaking back to the castle in the middle of the night, he was getting arrested for participating in protests that were decidedly not pro-vampire. The last time, Judas had locked him in the dungeons for a week, warning Alex and their sister Isabella that if they brought him food, he’d only make him stay longer.

Alex had snuck his brother food anyway. Not that it had mattered in the end. The moment Dante had been released, he’d packed a bag and slept at the hospital for a month.

They were two years apart, and had once been close. But their mother’s long illness had torn their family apart in ways large and small, and when she’d first begun to weaken right at the time Dante had started school, his brother had withdrawn into himself, growing rebellious and angry where he’d once been quiet and studious like Alex. After her death, he’d eventually dropped out of school, returning a few years later only with great pressure from Alex and their oldest sister. They’d said terrible things to each other during those years. Alex quietly feared his brother despised him, believed he hid behind a thousand facades. Cruel Prince Alexander. The indifferent heir. The dutiful son.

Crossing the room, Judas Visconti gripped his chin. “What the hell happened to you?”

Alex swayed in place. Black spots appeared before his vision as his father’s magic drew more from him. His dark power was a black, bottomless void, never able to be sated.

“Fight over a girl,” he mumbled, staggering back in relief when Judas at last released him.

“You?” Dante said under his breath. “Please.”

Turning, the king slapped Dante so hard he dropped his drink. “You think this is funny?”

Slowly, his brother straightened. “No, sire.”

“A little while ago, an elite werewolf military unit came within minutes of breaching the city walls. It was only by sheer luck that we had a counterterrorism team in place that managed to stop them in time.”

Alex cleared his throat. “What was their target?”

“They were carrying a detailed schematic of the palace and enough explosives to make good on their threat.”

“They wouldn’t have gotten past the checkpoints.”

“You don’t know that.” His father swiped a tired hand over his face. “The war has gone on too long, and we’re fighting it on too many fronts, in a cold war against the fae, who want our technological advantages and industrial city centers, and the human resistance, who thirty years after their defeat, still refuses to sign peace accords and accept our rule.”

Alexander thought of Daniela Girard, who walked miles to her factory job in a secondhand coat, and worked her fingers to the bone so that her sister could get the medicine she needed.

A virus that had spread across the world like wildfire had forever altered futures, casting fates like the cruelest of fortune tellers. His mother had worked in the legal aid center long before he had, providing slim shreds of hope to those who had none. She refused to accept the class system that sought to restructure society based on shifter, vampire and fae superiority. And now, the human resistance was a heartbeat from being crushed.

It was in moments like this, that Alex was almost glad his mother wasn’t here to see what their world had become over the last few years.

Almost.

“We are out of funds,” his father continued. “Morale is at an all-time low. We need this royal wedding to remind the people why they love the aristocracy and the crown.”

Alex and Dante exchanged a look. “Do you think we run the risk that with the food shortages, such extravagance could be seen as insensitive?”

Alex worded the question carefully, holding his breath and waiting to see if he, or worse, his brother, would be struck. With Judas, there was a fine line between drawing his ire for appearing disinterested, or for daring to question his judgment. He’d certainly paid the price for having the audacity to suggest the line about artisanal cheese would be seen as pretentious and out of touch.

The king waved a hand. “It’s Christmas. They want the romance and you’re going to give it to them.”

His stomach churned. “Yes, father.”

“Your sister’s choice to abdicate and walk away from this family did great damage to our public image. We can’t have a similar mistake.” He gestured to Alex’s face. “No drunken spectacles. No brawls. The public wants to see a charming prince choose his bride at the end of the month. We need this good PR. Your brother is on hand if they want to read juicy fodder on the front page of the tabloids.”

“I don’t see why we’re acting as if I even have a choice,” Alex said carefully. “Every woman in the surrounding sectors could show up the night of the ball, and I would still be expected to pick Lara Cavalieri.”

“This isn’t about love. It’s about making a good political match. That’s what your sister failed to understand.” His father’s tone sharpened. “I know you want what’s best for the people of this sector and for the greater kingdom. You’ve always had my strong head for leadership and your mother’s heart in that regard. I know you’ll make the right decision when the time comes.”

Judas paused to cough. Alex kept his expression carefully neutral. Despite the rumors, he’d never believed the king was truly sick. The timing was far too suspect. It would be just like Judas to fake an illness right after his mother’s death in order to force Alex’s hand and rush him into marriage.

“Yes, sire.”

Dante flicked a glance his way. Subtly, Alex shook his head. His brother looked away.

He hated this. Hated that he rarely got to speak to his own brother when they weren’t being watched, either by the cameras or the staff, most of whom were Judas Visconti’s loyalists. The night his oldest sister had been forced to flee, she’d made Alex swear he would hold the fractured pieces of their family together. No matter what happened, he couldn’t allow them to fall apart now.