“What is the meaning of this?” I snarl. Emmanuel, a breath from me, has blades drawn.
General Balor sneers at us. “The king would like you safely stowed for the full moon. He can’t have queens wandering where they shouldn’t.”
I peer at him, confused; every vampire usually locks themselves away for safekeeping during dreamwalk, anyway. “A reasonable request,” I bite. “Why the dramatic show in my bedchamber, Balor?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t want any trouble with my orders.”
I let my gaze run up the male. “Or you’re overcompensating.”
Balor snarls at me.
“What is wrong with my chambers for the full moon?” I ask.
He tilts his chin and steps toward me, only to be greeted by Emmanuel’s hiss. Balor pauses and sighs at us. “Just let me stow you where the king wants so we can all get this night over with. It doesn’t fucking matter to me where I put you, but I’m going to follow orders.”
As much as I hate to admit it, it’s probably wise, given how drunk Nerian is. For all our sakes, I can’t imagine what an argument over this could escalate to, and it’s not worth the risk to fight them on it with Charlotte and Second gone. We need to keep tensions low and get through the night.
I huff at him. “Well, let’s go, General. Stow away.”
“You too,” Balor yips at Emmanuel and jerks his head for us to follow him. “And where are the other two?”
“Gone to my territory to handle an urgent matter,” I say.
Balor grunts and traipses out of the bedroom.
Guards flank us, leading us down to the ground floor and then through a long, gilded hallway to a door into the sublevels.
A dingy smell wafts upward, and plaster turns to stone as we descend to the dungeons.
I sigh, whisking myself down the stairs.
A locked bedroom door or a locked cell door—they’re the same, just a frigid stone floor for a seat instead of the comfort of my suite.
It’s soNerian.
CHAPTER 18
KADE
Two Hundred Years Ago — Goreon Kingdom
MY BOOT CROSSES the threshold into the Goreon dungeon, Riot beside me.
We move in deathly silence through the empty jail, our soft footfalls covered by the chaos above, the shredding screams and moaning, the crying and shouting. The talking.
We follow the sound of dreamwalking.
Riot and I lift an internal door off its hinges, and the legion snakes up the stairwell.
I signal for everyone to halt and edge around the corner, peering down a gilded hallway lit with torches, gold glinting in the light of fire.
The wealth in just this hallway is astounding.
And it’s the starving children and desperate parents outside these walls who paid for it.
I shift into the empty hall, Hunters filing out of the stairwell behind me. This is where we part ways and fan out into the castle in our predetermined groups. Our advantage ofsurprise only works well if we attack and kill as many as possible in the first fucking go, hitting as wide and as fast as we can. We gave ourselves five minutes to identify our initial targets.
“See you on the other side,” Uncle Brachett whispers, and then he, Longton, and Ned take off in opposite directions with their men.
