“Marius helped,” she says.
My lips twitch, the action feeling oddly familiar now—because of her. Her influence. Her presence. The way she makes me feel. I never smiled before. Now I seem unable to stop. “I thought he was doing me a favor. Turns out, his assistance was never about me—it was aboutyou.”
“The first trial,” she replies.
“Yes.” Or maybe it happened the morning I sent him in to test her. I’m not quite sure. And honestly, it doesn’t matter. Focusing on the past is a waste of time. We need to move forward. “He has told the Strigoi that I want a week to prepare you. That was yesterday, which means we have six days. Potentially less… if they refuse to wait.”
“Will he give us a warning?”
I shake my head. “I’m rather certain that his informing me of the first trial is the only version of a warning we will receive. My Strigoi are impatient to meet their future queen. They’ve been without one… for a while.”
She frowns. “So how does royalty work in your world?” she asks slowly. “I mean, you’re immortal and you live forever… right? Same with your mates?”
“Yes, Strigoi are immortal, as are our mates. But that doesn’t mean we can’t die.”
This is the part of my history that I never discuss with anyone. Not even Marius.
But Viviana deserves to know.
So I clear my throat and push forward with the truth.
“Royalty changes typically involve a monarch passing the title on to an heir via a ceremony. However, in my case, I inherited the title much earlier than expected. After my mother killed herself, my father went insane. And I was left in charge of all of Strigoi kind at the age of eighteen.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
VIVI
The emotionless wayCiprian recounts his past suggests he has no heavy feelings regarding his history. However, his dedication to forgo standard trial practice tells me how he truly feels.
He spent over a thousand years hunting for the right candidate, choosing to renounce his kind’s customs in favor of creating a new tradition.
One that has culminated in him finding me.
“Mates share everything,” he explained shortly after mentioning his mother’s suicide. “Every thought. Every feeling. Everyregret.” He stopped looking at me then, choosing to stare across the room as he added, “My mother knew how my father felt about her sister. He loved Shyla. And… my mother looked just like her.”
I didn’t need him to tell me what came next because I already knew.
Yet he said it anyway. “My father pretended my mother was Shyla. He even called her by that name, forever reminding her that she was never his true choice. Yet they were mated. Because the Strigoi chose her.”
He went on to tell me that his father hated the Strigoi for that decision. He blamed Ciprian’s mother, too. And that… led to a bleak future.
“Shortly after I turned eighteen, I found my mother hanging from the balcony.” He didn’t go into much detail after that, just said that the memory is one that would haunt him forever.
It sounded like a warning—a way of letting me know that it would soon haunt me, too.Once we’re mated.
But I’m not intimidated by his past or his mind.
I am, however, nervous about thesetrials. They’re clearly dangerous. And his Strigoi have waited a long time to vet a potential queen. Far longer than normal, from what he just explained to me at the dining table.
We’ve been talking since I woke up in his bed, only recently relocating downstairs for a meal.
It’s very different from my first few days here when he seemed obsessed with putting his tail inside me. Now he’s focused on teaching me everything.
Because we’re on a deadline.
I should probably be freaked out. Terrified. Demanding that he let me go.
However, I’m none of those things. I’m simply lounging in the chair I was meant to sit in the first night here, eating another grilled cheese sandwich.
