“He’s right,” Ehrun cut in, dragging their attention back. “I remember all of it. Iama monster, and I don’t expect forgiveness. Why, though, did you invite me to sit here and make me a plate?”
Madan swallowed hard and gave Whelan another firm squeeze. He teased through the possible answers before finally looking Ehrun in the eyes and saying, “Because Kall would want us to.”
Beside him, Whelan seethed under his breath, but didn’t interrupt.
“And,” Madan continued, “my own brother has been losing the battle against his bond. I like to think that I understand you a little better now, even if I’ll never experience it myself.”
A strange mixture of sorrow and confusion swept across Ehrun’s features. “But…she’s still alive, right?”
“No thanks to you,” Whelan muttered. “Fucking broke her arm.”
Another grimace from Ehrun, but Madan pressed on, “His bond is broken. He doesn’t know who he is half the time when she’s not around. I sympathize…and I need your help.”
Silence pressed in. Lhuka leaned back to look at Jakhov behind Ehrun’s back and whispered something to him before swinging back up and into place. Whatever was said, Madan didn’t care. Neither did Jakhov, judging by the way he didn’t respond and merely looked back at the trio of women behind him.
“You know just how much I forgot,” Ehrun said at last. “How can I help him?”
Madan shook his head. “But you never forgot Rhana, and somehow you never forgot Ariadne. How?”
Ehrun’s lips pressed together in contemplation. “Something told me they were connected somehow. I don’t know. It blamed her for Rhana.”
It…as though the bond were a separate entity from himself.
“That’s more of a lead than we’ve had,” Madan said, giving Whelan another warning look as his mate growled in frustration.
“What he really needs,” Ehrun said, “is for them both to complete the ritual. There will be no peace until then.”
And as much as Madan didn’t want to admit it, he knew Ehrun was right.
Chapter 12
Loren slid his fangs out from Hyacinth Hooke’s neck, her rich blood thrumming through his veins. The injuries from two nights ago had long since healed thanks to his Caersean lineage, yet the desire for the vitality of a debutante from his Court never felt greater. As such, he had called upon nearly every single one of the young vampires. They had each been more than happy to aid their King after learning of the attack on the castle.
Hyacinth stood from Loren’s lap, the twin puncture wounds in her throat already closing. White hair braided back to her crown had thick coils haloing her beautiful ebony face, and her vivid eyes sparkled. The neckline of her sage green dress blossomed with the crimson that dripped from where he had bitten her, and there was something arousing about the way he had marked her.
There was a reason that feeding between two vampires had always been overseen by a Caersan woman’s closest male relative until marriage. Until, of course, Loren changed the status quo for his own gain.
“Will you be needing anything else, Your Majesty?” Hyacinth’s sultry voice had Loren aching to show her just how amazing a feeding could be.
But he had a reputation to uphold, and with her brother an officer in his army, the last thing he needed was to create distress amongst his troops. After all, whoever controlled the military controlled the kingdom. Loren had learned that firsthand.
So Loren shook his head. “That will be all, Miss Hooke. I am most appreciative of your concern.”
“Please call on me again,” Hyacinth said with a low, busty curtsy, “should you need anything more from me.”
Was that an invitation? If she was as interested in him as he was in her, perhaps he would take her up on it. He needed a release with such a beautiful Caersan of worth.
After all…he should have been satisfied in such a way on his wedding night. Ariadne, however, had different plans, and he would see to her paying for her attempt to make him look like a fool. This was just the latest in her long list of transgressions. She would learn to kneel before him—he was determined.
“Thank you,” Loren said with a nod to Hyacinth, who awaited his leave. “You may go for now.”
With that, Hyacinth departed in a swish of sage skirts and a sway to her hips. Oh, yes. That had most definitely been an invitation.
Sitting back on his throne, Loren sighed. Any sign of the battle that had ensued the morning following his nuptials had disappeared from his body. Not a bruise or scar remained. All he had left were questions.
“Nikolai.” Loren did not shift to search for the King’s Sword. Instead, he waited for the familiar sound of his best friend’s armor as he shifted into a bent knee position before him.
“Your Majesty.”
