We don’t know each other.
“So.” She stood up and straightened her suit dress. “This is the woman you’ve been cheating on me with?”
I bristled, even with knowing she was putting on an act. Accalia still exuded power and elegance, two qualities I wouldn’t use to describe myself in a million years. The question was directed to Victor, but she was doing a good job at including me as the target of her barely restrained rage.
Victor growled in response, tucking me a step behind him as Vorthain cleared his throat. “Madam Corvane, I understand you’re upset. But she is his mate. We’ve been over this.”
“Yes, yes, how romantic,” she sneered. “His mate that he’s kept hidden from the world, even as he met me at the altar of his god and vowed to cherish and honor me above all others.”
“I never gave you any illusions that this was anything other than a political arrangement, so spare us the spurned wife act. It’s beneath you.”
Accalia growled, her finger nails growing into vicious claws sharp enough to rip out a Magik’s heart when Vorthain raised his hands. “Please, these petty squabbles are beneath all of us.”
They shut their mouths, but the resentment between them filled the room with an oppressive cloud, making it difficult to breathe.
The hood of Vorthain’s cloak still covered the top half of his face, but I could feel it the moment his eyes landed on me. “Sage, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
This dark priest, this “Arch-Hierophant,” had power unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Power that could even control Victor, one of the strongest Magiks in Lundaria. His insertion into the Premier’s home and life was troubling, and I couldn’t believe Victor was allowing it. He said he wanted to learn aboutfixing mate bonds, and that Victor’s and my corrupted bond was the one he wanted to experiment on, but mate bonds were the work of gods.
So who exactly did he serve?
“Victor, why don’t you tell Sage what she can expect from this evening?”
The request was an order, and Victor swallowed before obeying, leading me to a couch. We all sat down, the lingering anger between Victor and Accalia still simmering between us.
“Sage, darling,” he started. I caught the way Accalia flinched at the term of endearment. “Tonight, we’re hosting a dinner with the Noctis council members, and I’ll be announcing you to them as my mate.”
I turned towards Accalia, but she didn’t look at me, her eyes focused elsewhere. “But… does that mean you’re getting…”
“Divorced?” she asked, filling in the blank. Then she scoffed, laughing darkly and muttering under her breath. “If only.”
The confusion must have been quite clear on my face. How could you claim a mate and still be married to someone else? I mean, I knew how Victor could do that, since our mate bond wasn’t real, but how would other Magiks accept this arrangement?
“Have you ever heard of a ‘Blood Consort?’”
My cheeks paled, my hand instinctively covering my neck as I gave a shallow nod.
Long ago, before the non-cits of Noctis paid tithes in blood to live here, vampires obtained the blood they needed to survive in three different ways—first was through hunting, attacking other Magiks wherever they could find them. The second was to pay a willing—or trafficked, as was often the case—“volunteer” at a Blood Brothel.
The third option was reserved for the wealthiest vampires.
Blood Consorts—half consort, half personal blood bank—used to be the ultimate status symbol in Noctis. Omegas from around Lundaria were kidnapped or sold to become thralls to their vampire masters, sources of blood, pleasure, manual labor, and whatever else they could offer until they were walking husks, shells of their former selves to be discarded once they’d fulfilled their purpose.
The Premiers had outlawed the practice over a century ago when they’d codified the Lundaria Omega Protection Act.
“I can’t just divorce Accalia,” Victor said with a sad smile, as though he were trying to comfort me. “It would strain relations with Fenmoor.”
Accalia rolled her eyes, looking at her nails as she spoke. “Relations that soured how, again? Oh, that’s right. When you killed my cousin.”
He gritted his teeth, ignoring her as he continued. “And we also have a child together…”
I flinched at the mention of the baby. He hadn’t forced me to interact with Alaric since that one time he’d brought him over, despite his delusion we were some kind of family, and I prayed to Hecara that Alaric’s parentage would be remaining a secret.
I didn’t think I could stomach it if he tried to include me in his son’s upbringing, like, Hecara forbid, a nanny.
“It just wouldn’t be proper to leave her,” he said, holding my hand as he stared daggers at his wife. “No matter how much we’d both prefer it.”
Accalia rolled her eyes, crossing her legs and arms as she growled.
