“So . . . I’m assuming you’re finally leaving the cave?”
I refuse to react to his goading. For all I know, he already realized why I’m mentally disturbed lately and he’s merely looking for confirmation.
Turning, I lock all my computers. My gold, imperial cuff is next to one of the keyboards. Feeling Dregan’s stare boring into my back, I slap it on my left wrist.
“So . . . are we going to talk about this?”
Fuck. “No.” Heart pounding at the fact that this fucker has picked up on my new fixation, I walk past him, boots slapping into black marble.
“We’re going to have to talk about this eventually!” he calls to my retreating back.
“Go get your cock sucked and stop fixating about what happens with mine.” I let the heavy, carved doors slam shut, knowing this isn’t the end of this.
I have to get myself sorted out.
Soon.
Dregan has been like a brother to me since we were wee toddlers. He knows my tells more than anyone. More than my own blood brother.
But it only took him mere moments in the same room as Calamity and I to notice it.
If I’m not careful—if I don’t purge that girl from my system—it’s only a matter of time before someone notices.
This kingdom, our social structure, isn’t built to survive that kind of scandal.
It’s just not.
three
“L
orenz is marrying his ward now that she’s of age.” Alessandra smiles at the young vampiress that hands her a deep burgundy cloth. “The entire kingdom is in an uproar. All but the younger generation.”
I’m torn between my desire for solitude and being aghast at what I’m hearing. “And the council has accepted this?”
“The argument is that her mother’s been dead sixteen-years and he did not truly raise her as his own. He paid for caregivers to handle that.” Alessandra drops the cloth onto one of the dark wood surfaces and tilts her head, contemplating it.
She always does this, although I cannot fucking fathom why. “It’s still his ward. How on Earth did he manage to get approval for this?”
My sister-in-law shrugs nonchalantly. “His family is one of the oldest. His connections are vast.” Her assessing glance passes over the vampires rushing around the hall. “We’re going to need you to stay here and help with the upheaval.”
I’m in the middle of scowling at her profile when deep purple cuts across my peripheral.
Her.
She’s standing in front of the doors to the terrace, highlighted by moonlight. Appraising everyone before her in the same unconcerned manner her mother displayed.
I angle away, blocking the sight of her. Forever mindful of the advanced hearing our kind possesses, I move closer to the queen. “There’s only one way I can help with that.” By reminding the council that the union isn’t in the best interest of the kingdom.
Alessandra gives a subtle shake of her head. “It’s not that simple. With the way the political climate is, the younger generation is more likely to revolt if we deny this. You have not seen them together, Obsidian. He’s lost for her and she’s lost for him.”
“They’re public about it?” I hiss as a light gust of air hits my back.
“Mother.”
Shit. It’s almost impossible to hide my reaction to her proximity. The sound of her voice, that fucking scent . . .
“Calamity.” Smiling, Alessandra moves past me.
I continue facing away from the female, fangs pushing against my tense lips. If I don’t get this to subside, soon my eyes will flood entirely black. And at that point, no one—absolutely no one—will doubt that I’m in the grips of bloodlust.
I doubt it’ll be a far jump from that to whom is responsible.
“Did you speak with Tallon to arrange your trip?” Alessandra asks.
The head of the royal guard? Trip? Eyebrow arched, I look over my shoulder at the two huddled females. One in an elegant deep blue dress; the other dressed to fucking kill in that purple dress. The same one that fits her like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination when it comes to her curves.
How do they allow her to dress like that? I haven’t looked into her list of suitors, but it must be kilometers long. It’s as if she’s trying to tempt an unmated male to snatch her up.
My canines drip venom in my mouth.
“Everything has been handled. Don’t worry yourself, mother.”
Alessandra smooths a thick, black lock of hair over her daughter’s bare shoulder. “I always worry when you go out to those parties in the human realm.”
“What?” I’m pulling an about-face and stomping in their direction by the time any of us realize what I’m up to. My next question is aimed at her serene, accepting mother. “She’s going out to parties where?”
Calamity breezes by me yet again, eyes twinkling with some undefined emotion.
Amusement, perhaps.
“Have a good day, Uncle Obsidian.”
The urge to growl at her has me nearly baring my fangs.
“Relax. We indulge her because many of the other young vampires do it. They go out in large groups, heavily protected.”
My disbelief must show on my face as I stare her down. “In the human realm.”
“Which our kind frequents often. And to the places they go, they’re nothing more than wealthy young people that pay top money for private VIP areas and bring along their own security. It’s fine.”
VIP areas.
No, this isn’t fine. There can only be one type of place she’s discussing. “They’re going out to party in human clubs.”
“Yes,” the queen affirms, her attention returning to the vampires setting up decorations throughout the hall.
“Alessandra—”
“Obsidian, much has changed in the last five years. We’ve given our blessing.” My brother’s palm lands on my shoulder from behind. “It’s better than having them sneak out on their own without us knowing where to, or providing adequate protection.”
I shrug his hand off and turn to leave them both. “That’s ridiculous. She’s the heir to the throne.”
“Where are you going?” my brother calls.
“To make damned sure that security detail is as it needs to be!”
“He’s so protective of her,” Alessandra sighs wistfully, no doubt believing that this is nothing more than an “uncle’s” concern.
I fucking hate myself.
Dregan tries to stop me in one of the halls.
“Not now!”
He watches me go past, knowing stare glued onto me.
Fuck him.
Fuck them all.
Calamity is going out in groups to party in the human realm, outside our mystically protected corner of the forest.
I don’t dare analyze where this anger is truly coming from. All I know is that if I can’t stop her, I’m going to make fucking sure I’m watching her.
Every single move.
No matter how crazy that idea is.
Six screens are locked on the VIP area in one of the most popular clubs in the city of Bucharest. Romanian citizens—human citizens—gyrate to the pounding beat and flashing lights, oblivious to the fact that a group of twenty of their deadliest predators have taken over the private VIP area on the second-floor terrace.
Clicking the gold ring on my index finger against the one on my thumb, I scratch my beard with my free hand and watch the dark-haired, black-eyed female lounging on the half-circle, white couch. She’s wearing a dress that would be considered indecent to our citizens; to the young vampire males and the human males around her, she’s nothing more than a beautiful, modern goddess come to life.
My fangs haven’t receded for hours. I’m starting to believe they never will at this rate.
Swaying to the beat, she stares out along the tops of everyone’s heads, surveying.
Always surveying.
Like her mother, the queen.
As if s
he’s already a queen herself.
She won’t inherit the throne for a long, long time, and only then upon my brother’s death. Our father didn’t die until Malachai was a thousand, after having lived for nearly five-thousand-years. Yet Calamity is clearly aware of her power, of her potential, even at the young age of twenty-one.
Fuck. Twenty-one. She’s still a baby compared to a two-in-a-half-millennia-old being like me.
Then why don’t I look at her as a baby? As I once did?
My hungry eyes drop to her chest, to the way it rises and falls with each of her controlled breaths. Every so often, her fathomless gaze darts up to the camera on her right.
The one whose feed I’m watching on my main screen.
There’s no chance she’s aware I’m stalking this little excursion of hers. Yet I can’t stop feeling the penetration of that stare, as if she’s looking right at me.
Into me.
A young, blonde vampire drops into the seat next to her, nonchalant and self-entitled in his white suit. He leans in close to her, much closer than he would be allowed to within the kingdom, and murmurs something into her ear.
Heart pumping hard against my ribcage, I exhale through my nostrils and straighten in my seat.
The male leans away from her slightly and holds his bared wrist to her mouth.
Offering it to her.
And for the first time since returning, it occurs to me that she’s of age now. That means she no longer exists on just human food, as the younglings do. She’s old enough to feed. Probably has been for at least three years.
Grinding my teeth, I struggle with the urge to appear before them, yank that boy’s wrist away from her—
Her eyes flicker back up to the camera, locking on it. One delicate hand reaches up to cup the back of the male’s hand. Eyes aimed at the lens, she leans down, plump lips parting on a hiss.
The tips of her small, perfect incisors pierce into the flesh, mouth wrapping around his wrist.
four
W ho does she think she is?
The question hounds me with every step across the main hall. An asinine one, really. Who is she? The heir to the throne of this kingdom. One of the most powerful females in it. One that, despite her insanely young age, understands her alluring vampiric nature better than most.
She has to feed. It’s a biological imperative, I remind myself.
But in a fucking human club? Risking the chance of exposure like that? I already hacked into their feeds, erasing all traces of that moment. Not that it makes a difference to my growing anger.
With that cocky, bloody douchebag on top of it all?
My ears twitch, unconsciously picking up on the sounds of the city within the defensive walls. We’ve lived in this part of Romania, hidden within the Băneasa Forest, for the better part of five-hundred-years. The buildings are kept low enough to remain hidden by the red-leafed trees the mortals can’t see, but we’ve managed to create a metropolis regardless.
Vehicles, beings, all the sounds of a bustling city reach my ears, and I imagine what the black streets look like tonight.
Probably just as packed as the streets outside that human club.
The one Calamity left half-hour ago.
Where the fuck is she? The security detail is supposed to accompany the entire group wherever they go, but how the hell are they supposed to do that if she’s just going to vanish into thin air?
I’m mid-way through another round of pacing when the sound of two clicks echo in the hall.
Heels on marble.
Scenting the air, I seek her out, already recognizing the luscious smell of her before I see her.
And something else. Blood.
Calamity is standing at least twenty yards away from me, partially highlighted by a beam of moonlight streaming in through the stained-glass window. The light red, leather dress encasing that body gleams, but it’s the lush, dark red drops leaking down her pale breasts and onto the material that catch my attention.
The source of that blood. Droplets of it, leading back up her chest, up the sides of her pale throat, and to that glistening, tainted mouth.
She was feeding again.
Not only that, but there she stands, in a dress that might not be considered odd in many places of this world, yet one that I know for a fact wasn’t allowed in this kingdom half-a-decade prior. And she not only flouts millenia-upon-millenia of tradition—she’s shredding it with her mere presence, clad in indecent red and calmly sporting the savagery of her vampiric instinct.
“What are you thinking?” I demand as calmly as possible.
There’s no reply. Only her glittering black eyes from within the shadows obscuring her face.
I flash before her, stopping just shy of touching her. “I don’t know why they’re letting you run wild like this—”
A small burst of air leaves her.
A laugh, I realize, before her expression flattens and that serene smile returns. “You believe my feeding to be wild?”
My narrowed glare caresses those blood-coated lips, the downward glide of it along her neck. “You come home covered in the remnants of your meal like some sort of savage.”
Head tilting slightly to the right, she gives me that slow head-to-toe appraisal.
The one that leaves no doubt what’s on her mind.
“Maybe I just get that caught up in my feeding.”
A burst of heat shoots through me. “Calamity—”
“Goodnight, Obsidian,” she says.
I don’t think she’s ever called me by my first name only before. Speechless, confused, I find myself pulled into those bottomless black eyes.
Then she’s gone.
She better have dematerialized into her gods damned quarters.
Didn’t even get the chance to truly question her. Fucking froze up like a moron, completely hooked by the mental image of her feeding off me, getting truly wild.
Seething, I head to seek out Tallon, determined to have this glaring security failure dealt with once and for all.
And to discover a way to put some kind of leash on this kingdom’s heir. Before her lack of self-control causes a greater problem. The kind that ends with me taking some innocent bastard’s life.
Lack of control, my ass. It’s been a week since that night. A week of watching her on the cameras in the city.
Within the fortress.
No more trips to the human world, thankfully. No more careless, out-of-control feedings and waltzing around dripping with the evidence of them.
Instead, she spends her days either wandering around the palace, or engaged in her myriad of hobbies.
Swimming.
Tech-lessons.
Fight training.
Bloody weapons training.
Current affairs lessons—both in the supernatural world and the mortal one.
All pursuits that no female heir to the throne has ever been allowed to engage in before. My brother’s explanation when I asked? “There is a chance Calamity might not wed. Alessandra and I have agreed to let her decide on her own instead of forcing a marriage on her.”
My first reaction? Relief.
My second? Horror. For what my brother hinted at has never been attempted in the ten-thousand or so years that our faction has been on its own. We’re one of the most successful, longest running vampire clans on the planet. We managed that not only through sticking to tradition and stability, but by always having two monarchs leading us.
If a queen dies, she’s eventually replaced.
If the king dies, same goes for him.
Only a male born heir, the king’s first son, has ever been allowed to rule on his own. Like my brother Malachai did the first millenia of his reign. Never a daughter. Never a female heir. She was always expected to choose a king.
Not only that, but Calamity isn’t even Malachai’s blood daughter. The law was already rewritten eight years ago to pave way for her ascendency to the throne.
Now this.
Why are they breaking protocol for Calamity in such a way?
The answer is an ephemeral whisper in the back of my head, one constantly out of my grasp. Mulling it over hasn’t yielded anything concrete. Just this sense that I should know why Calamity is so different.
Or is she? Are all the younger females of this kingdom this uninhibited? This human-like? It’s rare when social change of this magnitude spreads through a culture in the blink of an eye, but not unheard of.
Especially with today’s technology and ease of exchanging information.
Fuck. My head hurts.
I swallow another round of bitter dryness, my insides on fire. Three weeks since my last feeding. I’ve gone longer, yet I’m definitely on edge. Definitely approaching a dark, dangerous place.
My mind flashes back to the vampiress I last fucked—the one I last fed from—prior to returning from the battlefield. I remember enjoying every inch of her body, giving it to her hard all night as we took turns nourishing each other.
She’s nothing but a blur now. As if she were a lover from a thousand-years in the past. An event I know took place but one I can’t connect to enough to relive properly.
Calamity feeding off that male in that club, however . . .
I crack my jaw, ignoring the ache in my gums. The even crazier one in my cock. Bringing my attention back to the security feeds of the fortress, I narrow my eyes at the one right outside my chambers—
The doors are open.
And she’s standing there.
Whirling in my seat, I confirm what I saw—Calamity at the entrance to my room, the shadows of the candlelight playing over her form.
She doesn’t move.
Neither do I.
Interminable seconds blend into each other, a silent ticking that is echoed by my heartbeat.
She’s wearing her gold-and-diamond crown. Pinned beneath it is a long, black lace veil, one that frames the sides of her face before falling to cover her entire body from view.
“Calamity,” I say, at a loss, trapped by the toxic impulse to rip that veil off her and penetrate her with both my fangs and my dick.
Silence Page 2
