Ah, so this was why they were all volunteering to escort me?
They hoped to take a bite.
“Iwill personally escort my wife on any tour.” Kieran’s expression darkened, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He extended his arm to me. “Shall we? The morning light shows the gardens to their best advantage.”
Rising, I placed my hand on his arm. “Lead on, husband.”
As we swept from the dining hall, every vampiric gaze bored into my back. Lady Cordelia floated after us, her skirts billowing as she hurried to keep pace.
Well done,she whispered, clapping her hands.That neck display was truly inspired. Scandalous as well. Absolutely scandalous. You’ve given them something to gossip about.
I kept my face carefully neutral, though a smile twitched at the corner of my mouth.
Despite the gloomy castle and Kieran’s stiff demeanor, I’d found one ally, even if she was dead and only I could see her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KIERAN
The corridors of Shadowborne stretched ahead like a mausoleum draped in black velvet shadows. I led Cyrene from the dining room and down the main hall, keeping my shoulders rigid and my words clipped with the formality expected of a king. My belly, however, betrayed me with a constant low flutter. Every time her gaze lifted to follow mine and every time a stray strand of hair brushed her cheek, I felt the same pull toward this woman I had six years ago.
Time hadn’t dulled her brightness. It had only made me crave her more.
“And these tapestries were woven in the northern looms of Ashcombe. They show the victories of my great-great-grandfather against the Nightfrost clans,” I said, hoping my voice sounded steady, not like I wasreciting lines to distract myself from the way she glowed in the gloom.
She tilted her head, one eyebrow quirking. “They’re very dramatic.” She peered around, a frown blooming on her face. “Is it always this dark here?”
“Tradition dictates…” I realized she wasn’t criticizing the castle. She was exposing a truth I hadn’t admitted to myself. Shadowborne was dull. Grim. A testament to order and a tomb to joy. And she was sunlight in that tomb.
The scent of her magic hung in the air, like sugared fruit and lightning, making my fangs ache. Ridiculous. I’d just fed from her.
I hadn’t lost control like that in years.
When we reached the foyer, Quandary swooped down the staircase. The drake landed on her shoulder with a soft thud, curling his tail around her neck. His scales shimmered, and he purred in a way that made the hairs on my neck rise.
When the drake nuzzled her cheek, she laughed, and my pulse doubled.
“Hello, you menace,” she said, stroking his snout.
Quandary released a tiny jet of flame at a particularly dour portrait of my great-great-great-great Aunt Brunhilda hanging nearby.
“Quandary,” she said. “Did you just…?” She cocked her head back to scold the drake. “Fire belongs outside, not on Kieran’s ancestors.”
“Flames might actually improve her appearance.” Fire and vampires didn’t mix, but seeing the happinessin Cyrene’s eyes made me forget every rule I’d ever lived by.
Her startled laugh rang out, and it hit me square in the chest. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed that sound.
“Truly, I don’t think Aunt Brunhilda would mind.” She might. Who knew? She was long dead before I was born. “She was always one for going out into the sunlight. Said she wanted to tan.”
Cyrene snorted. “And she didn’t turn to dust?”
“Old wives’ tale. We can go out in sunlight. It just…”
“Scorches you?” Humor lurked in her eyes.
“From what I’ve read in the old papers, Brunhilda did eventually obtain a tan, though it was speckled with bright pink splotches.”
Cyrene’s laugh grew. “Oh, my.” She covered her mouth, but humor lingered in her pretty brown eyes. “I shouldn’t be laughing about this. Poor woman.”
