Empty.
Then why does it feel like there is a lingering presence in the shadows? Are ghosts a thing here? Do the spirits of the dead rise on the eve of the Night of the Shades?
I wrap my arms over my chest. Then I force myself to start searching.
The quicker I find something to help, the quicker I can return to my warm royal nest with my Alphas.
I wrinkle my nose at the scent of papyrus, ink, and cedarwood.
“Hmm,” I ponder, running my fingers over the yellowed parchments that are laid on the low table in the center of the room, “what are you hiding?”
I can’t read the beautiful hieroglyphs. But I can feel their magic.
Were the vampire mages sitting here last night looking at these? Are they about Daire’s iron bracelets? His mask?
My fingers tingle. Something here contains powerful magic.
I cock my head, studying the reed pens and ink pallets of smooth stone.
Something tiny and glistening is lodged to the side of an ink pallet. It is half-hidden, but it calls to my thief side.
I rock on my heels, eagerly reaching to push the pallet aside. “Now, you’re interesting.”
“Talking to yourself is, according to the scholars, the first sign of madness. Although, I could give you at least ten more, on which I have written my own analysis,” a cold, detached voice says behind me.
I yelp, jumping.
I twirl around, standing deliberately in front of my treasure.
I don’t know what that magical item is but I do know that I am stealing it.
“Who the fuck are you?” I blurt.
A willowy Alpha vampire with short black hair materializes from the shadows of the doorway.
He is startlingly different looking to the other Shadow Vampires in this court but is just as startlingly handsome in his own way. He appears to be in his forties and is dressed in a pure white floor-length kilt with an elaborate collar, which is made up of diamond scarab beetles.
I narrow my eyes at the use of scarab beetles in his collar. Is he connected to Lanlin? Was that a gift from the King?
The vampire’s hand rises to touch his collar, as if he forgot that he was wearing it, when he notices me looking.
Then he casts me a calculating glance. “The answer is yes.”
I grit my teeth. “I asked you who?—”
“But you asked me with youreyesif the King gifted this to me. If I amimportantwithin this court. And the answer isyes, he did, and indeed,yes, I am. Although, I couldn’t give two figs about the court.”
My eyes widen.
This must be Heka.
Isn’t he the only vampire mage or scholar who Lanlin would feel affectionate enough toward to gift anything and who is a hermit within the court?
I relax, but only slightly.
If Heka wants to prove how smart he is, then I’ll show him that this Omega can match him.
“Then, Heka, do you know my next question?” I quirk my brow.
