Bale must hear Sol. Maybe she can’t control her thoughts with fear snapping through her like wildfire. He steps forward, pushing Rim behind him. “Take me. I’ll name a successor for Torridaig. Right here. Right now. Starborn or not doesn’t matter anymore. The Council is over. Let Idallia and the phoenixes go, and I’ll step down and come with you.”
My eyes widen in horror, my heart clogging my throat. I don’t want that, either. Bale a blood slave to Rannigan and his cohorts? Drained over and over? Powerless after being the most powerful man in the world?
“Idallia. Behold the sun.” Rannigan blows hot breath against my cheek as he laughs mirthlessly. “He named you that. It’s not your birth name. See how he controlled your fate from day one?”
Thoughts riot through my head. Bale set me on a path. There’s no denying that. And he lied. But would I rather have been carted off to Bloodwold as the Vampire King’s infant bride and brought up to hate and take and send blood raiders into sovereign lands?
“What’s my name?” I rasp.
“Clara Bruhane,” Rannigan tells me.
“How fucking boring,” I spit.
Rannigan laughs. “Like I said…a delight. I can’t wait to see what kind of child we make.”
“Take me,” Bale repeats, moving closer and holding out his weaponless hands.
“So you’re not just fucking her. You love her. How sweet.” Rannigan drags me back a step. “It makes me even more excited to take her from you. Now my dear,” he says, squeezing me until my ribs ache, “drink, or the little one dies. Then we’ll see about the other bird.”
My hard, ragged breaths ricochet back to me from against Rannigan’s bloody arm. Rim starts squawking, his frantic gaze swinging back and forth between me and the captive birds. Sol is still chanting her love, her little croak like a dying fire. Fyrestar caws to me, his violent no pounding soundlessly into my head like the sunlight that will never stab my eyes again when I first leap out the window.
I block out the sounds of their desperate, fear-filled cries. My fangs are already out, sharp and ready, and no matter how much Rannigan repulses me, they ache for the hot wash of blood I know is coming.
“Don’t!” Bale shouts roughly. He lunges for me, and Sol squawks in pain as Rannigan’s man cuts into her neck.
Panic catapults an unhinged howl from me. Bale stops, shock freezing him solid. Rim and Fyrestar screech in terror. Several blood-wet, partial feathers drop to the floor, sliced through. Blood gushes down Sol’s chest, hissing against her flickering plumage. She wobbles and stops chanting, her amber eyes glazing over.
I forget to struggle against Rannigan and watch in helpless horror, dread destroying me. Sol somehow stays upright as her feathers dim. There’s a deep gash in her neck. She breathes hard, looking focused and furious, and the magic left in her and in Ellonrift seems to start working. After long seconds of abject terror, I see Sol’s eyes start to brighten, and begin to hope that maybe the worst won’t happen. She’s fighting, pulling through, and relief weakens me so fast that I slump against Rannigan.
Bale watches me, his eyes wide with fright. He looks like he’s about to step toward me again, and I shake my head, standing as tall as I can with Rannigan clamping me against him. My expression already colder than a snow-capped peak, I harden my eyes even more, hoping they glitter with hostility. I’ll never forgive Bale for any of this, but if Sol dies because he takes one more step, I’ll kill him.
I see his reluctant capitulation. He holds still even as he pleads with me. “You’ll never walk in the sun again. Never fly under a blue sky. Never fight a battle with us in the daytime. Everything will change.”
It will anyway. It already has. And I don’t care about flying or fighting if I can’t do it with my phoenixes.
“Maybe I’ll finally reach my true potential,” I say tonelessly. His eyes flare in panic as I lower my head to the Vampire King’s arm, open my mouth, and bite.
Rannigan drags in a loud breath, half obscuring Bale’s choked-out denial. I seal my lips around Rannigan’s punctured skin and suck. The first hot wash of blood into my mouth and down my throat is ecstasy. Moaning, I gulp down another. The Vampire King slackens in pleasure, his hold on me loosening. I feel his cock hardening against the small of my back. This is a consensual bite, after all.
I drink again, strength infusing me. Another long sip, and my senses sharpen until every little sound and smell in the space around me makes perfect sense. Everything’s clearer and more intense. I can smell Bale on me like never before. I can smell the stale blood on Rannigan and hear his heartbeat as loudly as my own. Taste is suddenly exquisite, Rannigan’s blood a powerful flavor on my tongue and an even more powerful force in my veins. I drink long and deep, building myself up for what’s to come.
“Don’t get too greedy, wife.” Rannigan starts pushing against me. “Leave some for the marriage bed.”
Still drinking, I grip his arm in a caress, both my hands sliding over his smooth, cool skin. His grasp on me loosens even more. The hand at my waist simply holds my hip like a lover would. I slide my body against his, and he softens behind me. Encouraging him with a slow push of my backside into his crotch, I take a last, deep swallow and lift my head.
“Delicious, right?” he purrs in my ear. His thumb caresses my hip. He clearly already sees us making that heir. I already see him dead.
“Useful.” Still holding his forearm in a solid grip, I whip around, kick him in the middle, and yank so violently that I pull Rannigan’s arm clean off.
He stumbles back, gaping. Pain and shock slash across his features as blood spurts from the ragged gap of his open shoulder. I cock his severed arm back and crack him across the face with the full force of my newly unlocked potential. He falls, sliding in his own blood.
“I guess starborn strength really is different.” Looming over him, I stab the exposed bone of his torn-off limb at his throat. It takes three brutal hits to pulverize the skin, reach his spine, and break his neck. Savage, full of hate and hurt, loss and residual fear, I finish off the flesh and bone with the knife from my boot, then lift Rannigan’s severed head.
My gory prize swings in my grip and leaves a wide spray of blood as I spin around with a sharp hiss of breath. My feral gaze slams into a battle already in progress. Wade, Danica, and their wing guards take down the vampires holding Fyrestar and Sol, then they start freeing my birds from the nets. The rest of the Elite Wing and their warbirds are picking off Bloodwold soldiers and Rannigan’s royal entourage alike. Rexton Hale streaks forward from the other side and joins the fight. From the look he gives Rannigan’s severed head as he passes me, I think he’d have killed the king again if he could.
The combat is already well in hand, and I don’t move. Bale doesn’t, either. He just stares at me as I hold my enemy’s severed head in my fist, true starborn strength coursing through me for the first time in my life, and sunshine forever out of my reach. He starts to move, and I give him a look that says he’d better not come near me, or I’ll claim his head next.
The battle quickly calms. Vampires lie dead in the war room. The leaders of Ellonrift gather round, and I realize that for the first time in Bale’s reign, they don’t look at him to see what comes next. They’re looking at me now.
