—and drank.
He smacked his lips, savoring it. “Ah, this one is better than the last.”
Then, he tossed the goblet into the crowd.
Hands clawed for it.
And before the next breath could be drawn?—
The entire room plunged into darkness.
The fine hairs on my arms rose as fear swept through me. My grip on Roman’s hand tightened like a lifeline.
Screams and shouts rippled through the crowd, confusion erupting in frantic voices.
Then, when the darkness lifted?—
Balthazar stalked toward the stage.
His expression was pure fury, his presence alone enough to make the ground tremble beneath us.
“What the fuck are you doing, Raul?” he bellowed, his voice a thunderclap of rage. “Why is my son on stage while you drink his blood?”
Raul’s face visibly cringed before he schooled himself, straightening his spine. Then, in a ridiculous bravado, he clapped his hands together.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s back in Italy.” His voice dripped with mockery. “It’s been far too long, Lord Balthazar.”
Balthazar sneered. “And you’re the same bloodthirsty vermin as always.” He seized the collar of Raul’s crimson doublet with effortless strength.
Raul jerked back, shaking him off.
A thick silence smothered the once-rowdy crowd. They felt the shift in power, the weight of the danger looming between these two men.
“How interesting,” Raul mused, though sweat glistened along his upperlip, betraying his thinly veiled bravado. “Imagine my luck—catching your son. Destiny, wouldn’t you say? I didn’t even know you had a son.”
Balthazar’s voice dropped into something low, lethal. “I’m going to burn your house to the ground and kill every last Timehunter here.” His words echoed through the chamber, a death sentence spoken without hesitation.
A flicker of unease passed through Raul’s gaze, but he recovered fast. “Who gave birth to this spawn?” he asked, tilting his head. “Was it that bitch Alina?”
The room held its breath.
Balthazar’s expression remained unreadable as he uttered flatly, “I killed Alina.”
Raul flinched—the rare shock cracking through his usual arrogance.
His mouth parted slightly. “You killed her?” He let out a laugh, incredulous. “But I thought you were in love?” His fingers fisted into Tristan’s hair as he dragged him closer. “Yet you killed her?”
Balthazar didn’t so much as blink.
Raul, suddenly grasping for control, edged behind Tristan like a shield. His grip on his hair tightened. “Take another step,” he warned, “and I’ll release the belladonna. Then everyone in this room will suffer.”
Balthazar exhaled through his nose, unbothered. “Childish threats,” he murmured, shaking his head. Then, his voice carried. “How about I spare you and your men the bloodbath? You walk away. You live.” His head tilted slightly. “All you have to do is hand over my son.”
The room stilled.
A wicked sneer curled Raul’s lips. “Why should I? I have your son. You killed mine long ago, so I will destroy yours. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”
And to prove his words, he carved a blade around Tristan’s eye.
