He nodded.“If you insist.”His confidence faltered, just for a breath—a flicker of uncertainty I would havemissed if I weren’t already tangled in his emotions. Through our bond, I caught the sharp edge of his doubt, the fear he tried so hard to bury. It stung, that sudden distance as he closed the bond, walling me off from the storm inside him.
His attention shifted to the window, to the sprawling landscape he had watched over for centuries. The mountains and the pines. When he looked at me again, the vulnerability was gone, buried beneath a gentlemanly mask.
“You’re sad,”I said, unable to hold it in.
He touched the side of my face.“I feel many things, my moonflower. But mostly, just love for you and the quiet life we’re going to make. Together.”
Sera very loudly cleared her throat. “Can you twoget a room?”
“We are inmyroom,” I said, grinning as I turned to look at my sister.
She glanced from me to him. “I know how the two of you operate.” She pointed to the little girl and mouthed, “And there is a child present.”
He huffed something like a laugh. “You know, I think I liked it better when you were a wolf.”
Sera’s mouth fell open. “Did you just make a joke? On purpose?”
“Enough, you two,” I said, intervening.
I set my hand on Bastien’s chest, and he responded with a low, throaty growl that made my heart flutter. His hand drifted to my low back, pulling me closer to him. “As my wife commands.”
A warmth spread from the tips of my ears to my toes as he looked into my eyes.
Sera let out a breath. “Alright, we should get moving before we miss the ceremony.” She picked up the little girl and set her on her hip. “And you needto return to the nanny.” The little girl frowned. “No! I want to go to the party!”
“I hear Nanny has tarts for you,” Sera said, walking with her out the door. Tansy followed after, listing all the tarts the little girl would get to try. Her effervescent laughter drew my thoughts to the thing neither one of us was talking about. Our baby.
Once they were gone, Bastien didn’t let go right away. Neither did I. I still hadn’t received my moon cycle, but that wasn’t unusual for me. I’d never bled like other women did, which at the time I’d been grateful for. Because when it did come, it was horribly painful, and I struggled to leave my bed. But this time, I hoped it meant something else.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
He leaned down and kissed me softly. A bit of red lipstick came off on his lips, and I wiped it off with my thumb.
“Tonight, there will be a new Duke of Roselyn. Which means, from now on, I will only have one job.”
“And what job is that?” I asked.
He buried his face in the hollow of my neck. “To please my wife.”
Chapter 48
La Transmission
BASTIEN
The Grand Ballroom of Château Rose had never looked more regal. Candlelight flickered in every crystal sconce, casting a golden glow across the marble floors and gilded cornices. Servants in livery glided silently between guests, bearing silver trays laden with sugared fruits and delicate confections. Gold banners draped from the vaulted ceiling while black velvet hung behind the dais, and artfully arranged bouquets of winter lilies and hothouse orchids adorned the periphery.
It was more than I would’ve done, but Tyson was the new Duke of Roselyn, and I supposed if he wanted to indulge a little more than I did, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
Or at least that’s what Claire had told me.
I adjusted my cravat, ignoring the way the fabric pulled at my throat, and surveyed the attendees. My brothers, Piers and Aurélien, who lived in neighboring lands, were sitting in the front row, beside Claude, Tyson’s father. And then there was his lady mother. A horrible court gossip if the rumors were true. And seated in the place of honor was the High Prince himself, Marius.
He looked the same as always. With black curls tied loosely at the nape and a glass of champagne in his hand. He was whispering to Claire, who was seated beside him. I didn’t like him sitting so close to her, but I had no choicein the matter. This might be my castle for the next few minutes, but he was the High Prince. And I’d done enough to draw his ire.
My wife was wearing a gown of black and gold. Her lips were painted. Her red hair was curled. Gems draped her wrists and fingers. She was a portrait of beauty. A goddess. My obsession. Myeverything. And if the gods were good, carrying my whole world inside her.
There was no heartbeat yet, but when there was, all the vampires would know.
