In the days leading up to the ceremony, there was a new wariness in the narrow lanes and canals, shops closing earlier than usual, fewer street vendors peddling their trinkets in the narrow streets and campos.
As if the humans knew death had descended on their bright, shining city.
But the human world was not my problem.
I was locked inside my own body, a cold, blank mask on the outside, a seething mess of hostility inside. Despite tonight’s strict, no-weapons rule, I had a dagger strapped to my thigh. Despite my promise to my uncle, I wanted Marcello Dominico dead with every fiber of my being. My hate for him was so consuming, nothing else mattered.
A seismic shift was about to occur, one I might not survive.
We were next in line to swear fealty to the bastard who had killed my father, and I could barely swallow down myanger. All around me, the rest of the D’Immortali bristled with power, hunger, and sheer depravity, eachdrip, drip, dripof blood on stone fanning the flames of an already savage crowd.
By the end of the night, they would become the monsters the rest of the world thought we were, and the banquet that followed this event—the one I always skipped—would become a scene of debauchery and carnal revelry, something Luca was looking forward to, his body as tight as a strung harp, well aware there were no less than thirty females jockeying for position behind him.
From above, the heat of Gabriel Dominico’s gaze touched me like a brand, and I grit my teeth, remembering the dangerous curve of his full lips, the arrogant tilt of his cleft chin. I’d slipped up by glancing up at him before, never anticipating he’d be doing the last thing I expected.
Like he saw every wicked thought in my head, the bastard had been staring straight down at me.
And those eyes… I’d never met anyone with eyes that color before.
So blue, they didn’t look real, like the deepest ocean or the sky on a clear day.
I’d been berating myself ever since, and I wouldnotmake the same mistake twice.
I shivered from the adrenaline coursing through my system, and in my peripheral vision, Uncle Gio’s fingers flashed in the simple battle language our family had used since the beginning of time.Stand fast.Keep your wits about you. Stick to the plan.
I drew a slow, shaking breath, laced with the potent scents of five hundred bloodthirsty strangers.
Uncle was right.
We had spent the past weeks crafting our strategy, and now I had to play my part perfectly.
I squeezed my eyes closed, tempered my breathing, and told myself I couldn’t kill Marcello, no matter how much I wanted to. Luca’s life was at stake, and I would do anything to protect my brother.
Another long, deep inhale settled my heart into a steady beat, the heady rush of adrenaline easing off.
Even if I did everything right, there was a chance I would not leave the Sala del Giuramento alive. Even worse, I hadn’t warned Luca what I was planning. Plausible deniability might save his life if this went wrong, and I was relying on my uncle’s sworn promise to get my brother out, to shield him from the fallout.
And still, barely a flicker of fear burned inside me, crushed beneath the deluge of righteous anger for what the Dominicos had done to my sire.
For ripping the most important person out of my life, for leaving me completely rudderless in a Dynasty determined to devour me.
But… not if I devoured all of them first.
10
GABRIEL
The room held its collective breath as the herald’s staff struck the stone again.
My gaze rested firmly on Emberline DiRavello, searching for any tell that the spoiled princess was dangerous. She looked like a fucking wet dream in that dress, and my knees went weak as an image struck me out of nowhere—her on her knees, taking my cock in her mouth as I thrust…
“The Dominico Empire.”
Confused, the crowd shifted, and every gaze in the hall moved to the throne.
To my father.
And then… to me, frowning from the balcony.
