“Prince Killian,” Angelo waved his hand. “Enjoying your new accommodations?”
Killian narrowed his eyes. “It has its…advantages. I’m sure you’ve heard I’m going to have son.”
Stefan flashed him a murderous look but didn’t engage.
I hid a smile. The fool was digging his own grave without even knowing it.
“Yes, I’ve heard,” Angelo said smoothly. “Congratulations.”
Confusion flashed in Killian’s eyes as if he wasn’t expecting that. “I know why I was brought here. The headmaster told me. And no, you can’t have it. I want the portal opened. My subjects will defeat you, and I will become king not only here, but in the Elder Dimension.”
Rage detonated in my chest. This arrogant bastard thought he could bargain while Joy was trapped, suffering, possibly dying. My fangs throbbed with the need to rip out his throat. Only Angelo's presence kept me from lunging across the office.
Angelo broke out in a tight smile. “Then you don’t get your son.”
“What?” Killian glanced over at Stefan who shrugged and held up his hands.
His crestfallen look brought a smile to my face. “We can’t force you, that’s true. But if we don’t get what we want, then you don’t get what you want.”
“Kara’s a prisoner,” Killian said. “You can’t take her.”
“Oh, she would be in prison,” Angelo said, his voice silk-smooth and deadly calm. He leaned back in his leather chair and slid one finger along the armrest as if drawing a map. “But some place where you would never find her. I have many hiding places, places that could accommodate a pregnant woman and her child.”
Beads of sweat erupted across Killian’s forehead, glistening under the office lights. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the first crack in his arrogant facade. His hands trembled slightly at his sides as he fought to maintain control. “I don’t believe you.” He gestured frantically toward Anton with a shaking hand. “He would never allow that.”
Anton shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his jaw working silently. His fingers drummed once against the armrest before he stilled them. “I said I would never allow them to torture a pregnant woman physically,” he said carefully, each word measured. “I never said I wouldn’t allow them to…relocate one.” His eyes met mine with what looked like reluctant resignation. “Enzo would make sure she was safe.”
The taste of victory was sweet on my tongue. I pushed off from the wall where I’d been standing, my footsteps deliberate and predatory on the polished floor. “Oh, I would do more than that.” My fangs elongated fully, catching the lights as I smiled without warmth. “I would never allow her to contact you.”
Behind me, I heard Dimitri's low chuckle. "Now this is getting interesting," he murmured.
Killian’s breathing became shallow, rapid. The color drained from his face as I closed the distance between us, each step calculated to build his terror. His fear was sharp, acrid, and so delicious.
“I would never allow you to know anything about your son.” I patted his cheek, hitting him softly with each beat of my words. “You would rot here while we raised your child never knowing you existed.”
Killian gritted his teeth, snarling out the word. “No. You can’t do this to me. You can’t take my son from me. He would be the future king of my people.”
I leaned closer. “Then give us what we want, and the baby’s all yours. You can raise it any way you like.” I whispered as he shuddered. “Or maybe it grows to be one of us.” I pulled back just enough to meet his horrified gaze. I ran my tongue slowly over my fangs, savoring his terror. “A vampire. Your heir, forever craving blood instead of ruling the Unseelie.”
Something snapped behind his eyes—raw, primal panic mixed with rage. “Never!” he roared, lunging at me with desperate fury, his fingers clawing wildly at my face.
But I moved with inhuman speed, sidestepping effortlessly. He stumbled past me, his momentum carrying him straight into Stefan’s bookcase. The wood cracked like thunder, and books cascaded to the floor in a violent avalanche of leather and paper.
Dimitri’s delighted laughter filled the room. “Well, well. Someone’s feeling as brave as a bull today. How adorable.”
Killian lay sprawled among the scattered books, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face. Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself to his feet and whirled around to face us, his eyes wild with desperation and hatred. Desperation led men to dorash things, and I had no doubt that Killian would break. We just needed to keep up the pressure.
Dimitri and Angelo flanked me like predators closing in on wounded prey. Anton sat frozen in his chair. Stefan remained perfectly still, watching the chaos unfold in his office with cold detachment.
I knelt down and looked at Killian eye to eye, not using compulsion. “The choice is yours, Killian. Keep your damn blood or lose your son. Either way, we’re not leaving here empty-handed.”
