by Becca Blake
Mine.
The word echoed in Azalea’s head.
The cloaked vampire met Azalea’s eyes. “I understand the situation perfectly.”
Her knees grew weak beneath her weight. He knew she’d played him after overhearing something he would have killed her for, and he was furious.
“Come, Azalea,” Nero said, turning her back around.
As she walked with him, she could feel the heat from the surface vampires’ gazes burning into her back. They would not forget her.
When they reached Nero’s bedchamber, he slammed the door shut behind them. He kept his back to her and clenched his fists against the wooden door. “Why did you defy me?”
“I’m sorry—”
“Why?” Nero slammed his fist into the door. The wood splintered where he’d hit it, leaving a long, thin crack in the door.
“I hadn’t eaten all day,” she said. “Not since lunch yesterday. You forgot to send food for me. I didn’t know how long you were going to leave me here alone without sending me something to eat, so I decided to sneak down to the kitchen. I thought I could be quick, that I could sneak in through the servants’ entrance to the kitchen, but when I got to the staircase…”
At that, the tension in Nero’s shoulders loosened. He let out a deep sigh and turned around, leaning his back against the door. “You’re right. I should have brought you something to eat. Even so…” He shook his head, searching for words. The raw fear on his features betrayed the monstrous creature he was, making him look almost human. “It was dangerous to defy me. They’ve seen you now, learned that you are important to me. They can use you to hurt me.”
She is mine. Azalea hadn’t realized at the time how much those words had revealed.
His laugh was ugly and cynical. “I should have allowed them to take you and have their way with you rather than show them that weakness.”
Azalea sat down on the bed and busied herself with running a finger along the soft sheets. “Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know.” He frowned, and all hints of the softness she’d seen from him earlier disappeared. “If you defy me again, for any reason, I won’t protect you next time. I’ve brought you into my home, into my bedchamber. It is not too much to ask that you honor my demands, especially when they are in regards to your own safety.”
“I understand. And…thank you, for not leaving me with them.”
“Let me send for your dinner. I’m sure you’re still hungry.” Nero disappeared into the hallway. He returned a few minutes later, empty-handed. “Eryn will be here shortly with a hot meal for you.”
“Thank you,” Azalea said. “While we’re waiting, there’s something you should know.”
Nero raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Before they took me, I overheard them talking about their plans. They said they’re only staying so they can take more information about you back to their leader, Neryssa. They said…”
“Go on.”
“They said you’re weak and don’t deserve Terra Nocturne.”
Nero chuckled darkly. “Is that all? None of that is a secret. I am well aware of their intentions here. They came here looking for a weakness, and you gave them one.”
“Who is she?” Azalea asked.
“Who?”
“This other vampire leader they were discussing. Neryssa.”
“Neryssa was my sister many centuries ago. Now, she’s nothing more than the leader of a rival clan.”
“Is she dangerous?”
“Incredibly. She is not the person she once was. Her mind is warped and cruel, and I’d prefer not to speak of her.”
“The vampires offered me freedom to betray you. They said they would take me away from Terra Nocturne and set me free in exchange for your secrets.”
Nero stiffened. “Were you intending to take their offer?”
“No!” Azalea said quickly. “No, I wouldn’t have. Even if you hadn’t come for me, I didn’t want to. After all you’ve done for me… I want to be by your side in Terra Nocturne. I wouldn’t want to leave now, even if I could. Terra Nocturne is my home.”
Tears stung at her eyes as she realized again how true that was. Her old life on the surface already felt like it belonged to someone else, and she was only twenty-five. In hundreds of years, if she found an opportunity to escape somehow, the way Miria wanted to, how foreign would the surface world be to them then?
Nero crossed his arms. “I cannot allow you to endanger yourself again. Now that they have seen you and learned you are important to me, there is no point in hiding you away in my chambers.”
Azalea frowned. “If I’m free to roam the castle, you don’t think they’ll come for me again?”
“I am certain they will. That is why you will stay by my side until they’re gone.”
There was a knock at the door. Azalea tensed, waiting for the vampires from the surface to burst through and drag her away.
“It’s only Eryn,” Nero reassured her. He answered the door and returned with a plate piled high with far more food than she could possibly eat.
“Thank you, my lord.” Azalea reached for the plate.
Nero shook his head and gestured toward the sitting area across from the bed. “Come sit.”
She crossed the room and took a seat on the small couch that was just big enough for the two of them. Nero set the plate down on the table in front of them and cut into the thin piece of chicken.
“If I have to stay by your side until the vampires are gone, does that mean I have to go to the ball with you? I have no choice?”
“You will be my honored guest to the ball. Once our guests leave, you will be safe and free to roam the castle once more.” Nero cut off a small piece of the meat and held it up for her.
Azalea opened her mouth and accepted the bite he offered. She chewed slowly, savoring both the flavor of the food and Nero’s desire to take care of her. It reminded her of the way he had claimed possession of her earlier.
Mine.
She wouldn’t complain about being his.
Nero continued feeding her until the meat was gone, then set the utensils down on the plate with a gentle clink. “After the ball,” he said thoughtfully, “you won’t disobey me again.”
He wasn’t giving her a command this time. He was making an observation, as though he were commenting on the taste of her food or the color of her dress. It was a certainty in his mind.
“Why is that?”
He pressed a grape against her lips until she parted them to accept it. “Do you intend to disobey me again?”
“No.”
He set the plate on the bedside table and kissed her forehead. “Then you have nothing to fear, flower. As long as you remain loyal to me, I intend to keep you by my side for a very long time.”
His touch was gentle, but his threat was clear: she wouldn’t get another chance.
24
“Miria!” Farraine’s harsh voice called out over the hum of excited conversation in the kitchen. “Lord Nero wants to see you in the hallway.”
Miria tensed as she set aside the bowl she’d been washing and wiped her hands on her apron. “Why?”
Farraine shrugged. “Whatever it is, I need you to hurry back here when you’re done. We’ve got too much work to do tonight for the ball, and I can’t go into this short on staff. Understand?”
She hung the apron up and smoothed out the wrinkles on her dress before stepping out of the kitchen. Nero might have saved her from the other vampire, but she wasn’t under any delusions that his feelings toward her had changed.
Her feelings toward him certainly hadn’t.
She didn’t mind that he hadn’t spoken to her since the dinner with the ambassador earlier that week. But Azalea hadn’t spoken to her, either, other than quick hellos as they passed by each other in the
hallway. She seemed to spend all her time following Nero around.
Outside the servants’ entrance to the kitchen, Nero held a long canvas bag draped over his arm.
“What do you want?” she asked.
Nero smirked. “That’s an interesting way to address a king.”
“What do you want, my lord?”
“I need you to take this to Azalea in my bedchamber and help her prepare for the ball tonight.”
Miria eyed the canvas bag he held out for her and crossed her arms. “What is it?”
“Her dress for tonight.”
“Doesn’t she have handmaidens for that sort of thing? She hasn’t seemed to want me around recently.”
“She hasn’t had a choice in the matter.”
“You’ve been keeping her away from me?” Miria asked.
“No,” Nero said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I’ve been keeping her safe. Once our visitors leave, the castle will go back to normal.”
For once, Nero seemed to be speaking honestly, without any of the disdain he usually displayed toward her.
She took the bag from him and nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“She cares about you, and seeing you will put her at ease for the night to come. She’s upstairs in my bedchamber right now with several of my men guarding her. They’re expecting you.” Nero left down the hallway, leaving Miria alone.
Miria carried the bag with Azalea’s dress through the castle. The building was huge—much larger than Nero and his staff needed, like it had been built for a much larger court. As it was, many of the winding halls and rooms on the way were empty and unused.
When she reached Nero’s bedchamber, the guards stepped aside to let her in. Azalea sat on a huge bed, wearing nothing but a flimsy nightgown. She jumped to her feet as the door swung open and ran over to greet Miria with a hug.
“What are you doing here?” Azalea asked.
Miria spread the bundle out on the bed, taking care to smooth it out neatly. “I can leave, if you’d prefer.”
“No! I’m glad you’re here. It’s just… I thought Eryn was coming up to help me get ready for tonight.”
“He sent me instead.” Miria shrugged. “He said he wanted you to be at ease tonight, and I guess he thought I’d do a better job of calming your nerves.”
Azalea smiled. “See? He’s really not all bad.”
Miria pursed her lips into a tight smile. It wasn’t worth getting into another fight. Not if her goal was to calm Azalea’s nerves. “Sure.”
“What did you bring up with you?” She nodded toward the bundle of cloth.
“I guess it’s your gown for tonight.” Miria pulled away the cream-colored cloth that wrapped up the bundle to reveal a stunning gown of a deep, blood red. As Miria lifted it up to give them both a better look, pinched layers of red and black tumbled gracefully down into a long train that would trail behind Azalea as she walked. The intricate beading on the gown shimmered in the light as Miria moved it in her hands.
Azalea reached out for it, then pulled her hand back, like she was afraid to touch a gown of such high quality.
“Gods,” Miria muttered. “This thing looks like it’s meant for the royalty back in the highest court of Viridi.”
“That can’t be right. That can’t be for me.” Azalea shook her head.
“Well, you can be damned sure it’s not for me,” Miria said. “Let’s get you cleaned up and try it on.”
After a quick bath, and some time spent fussing with hair and makeup, Miria helped Azalea step into the gown and laced up the back. Once it was on and fitted tightly to the curves of her body, Miria knelt down to lift the material out of the way and arrange it on the ground, then stepped back to look at Azalea in the mirror. The beauty of the dress complemented Azalea’s features and took her natural beauty to a level that was almost unrecognizable.
“You look beautiful, Zel,” Miria said softly.
“I don’t like this,” Azalea said, shaking her head. “You waiting on me like a handmaiden to a queen.”
“I don’t mind,” Miria said with a grin. “This is a hell of a lot better than working the kitchens.”
“It’s nice to pretend that everything is…normal,” Azalea said. “I wish you could be happy here.”
“I’m trying my best,” Miria said. “I’m trying to be happy that you’ve found something that makes you happy. If all I wanted was to leave, I would have found a way to do it on my own. But I won’t leave if it means leaving you behind.”
The door swung open, revealing Nero. He was dressed in a long, black shirt, embroidered with thread that matched the blood red hue of Azalea’s dress. Atop his head was his silver crown made of intricate, intertwining filigrees. From behind the matching silver mask, his eyes followed down the curves of her body then back up again, until they met hers.
“Thank you, Miria. You may return to the kitchen to help with preparations,” he said without taking his eyes away from Azalea.
Miria squeezed her hand. “Be safe,” she murmured, barely loud enough to hear.
Once Miria was gone, Nero held out his gloved hand for Azalea. “Are you ready, flower?”
She took his hand. He revealed a second silver mask that matched his own and put it in front of her eyes. The way the corners masked her peripheral vision made her feel claustrophobic, like she was trapped and the world was closing in on her.
Nero didn’t give her time to adjust the mask before leading her out of the bedroom. Their walk down the hallway was filled with an uncomfortable silence between them, in which she kept stealing glances at him through her limited vision. It was her fault she was being put on display in front of the entire vampire nobility. If she’d only listened to Nero, she could have stayed safe and unseen, locked away in the bedroom while the vampires’ ball took place below without her. Instead, she found herself on the arm of the vampire lord. Every step brought her closer to the ball, closer to being paraded in front of the vampires who had threatened her only days before.
Hiding didn’t work, so now, her status would be publicized in front of the entire vampire court. It was her punishment, and she would suffer through it with as much grace as she could manage.
Nero paused at the top of the steps, just out of view of the entryway. His fingertips brushed against her ears as he tucked her hair behind them, leaving the elven tips exposed.
A shudder passed through her, and she leaned into his touch.
“So everyone can see you, exactly as you are,” he whispered.
She had no time to ask whether that was a compliment or an insult before he led her once more down the staircase toward the entryway. They paused in front of the closed doors that led into the dining hall and waited for the servants on either side to pull them open.
Inside, the dining hall had been transformed into something entirely different than what she was used to. Dozens of round tables dressed in luxurious black linens and silver dinnerware filled the usually cavernous space. Only a square space in the center was left open for dancing, though no one had started doing so yet. At the far end of the room, the familiar long table that was usually in the center of the dining area was featured prominently on a raised platform in front of the throne, looking over the rest of the hall. It was flanked on either end by musicians playing stringed instruments. The two empty chairs in the center of the table were surrounded on either side by important-looking guests Azalea didn’t recognize.
Nero and Azalea paused in the entryway, their arms linked together. The entirety of the vampire nobility and what seemed to be every other vampire in all of Terra Nocturne turned to stare at them. Azalea froze under the weight of their stares, remaining perfectly still even as Nero pulled her arm.
“Walk,” he whispered in her ear as he gave her arm a sharp tug.
Her mind couldn’t make sense of the simple co
mmand, but her feet obeyed.
Surrounded on all sides by vampires, Azalea was acutely aware of her obscured vision. Their hungry gazes followed her across the long room.
The vampires from the surface sat at a table near the edge of the room, unmistakable even under their own masks.
Nero led her to the table at the front of the hall and pulled out a chair for her, gesturing for her to sit.
Irena walked along the table, filling glasses with blood as she went. Like Nero’s other servants, she wore a plain mask, but her distinct blonde curls gave away her identity.
She lifted the pitcher over Azalea’s goblet, paused, then quickly pulled it away. “Oh! I’m sorry, Miss Azalea. I didn’t realize that was you.” The words tumbled out as her cheeks turned scarlet. She hurried down the line and filled Nero’s next, keeping her gaze averted from Azalea’s.
Three more members of the kitchen staff followed her, trays and plates in hand. They wordlessly served each of the guests at the head table, then returned to the kitchen to retrieve more plates for the other guests throughout the hall.
“You’re with Lord Nero?”
Azalea turned her head toward the sultry female voice next to her, straining her neck to get a good look through the narrow slits of her mask. Thick, blonde hair surrounded the woman’s face, which was obscured by a mask made of pink velvet and embedded with shimmering gems.
“Yes. I’m here as his guest,” Azalea said.
“I’m not sure I’ve seen you before. I’m Liselle.”
“Azalea.”
“Did you come from the Second District?” the woman asked.
“The Third, actually.” Azalea nibbled at a soft, buttered roll.
Liselle’s eyebrows rose until they were just visible above the top edge of her mask. “Oh! So you’re just an elf girl, then?”
For the first time that night, Azalea was grateful for the mask that hid her expression.
“Oh! I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting Lord Nero to bring along a consort.” She scrunched up her nose at the distasteful word. “Have you been serving him long?”
“No,” Azalea admitted. “I only met him about three weeks ago.”
