Page 107

Chapter 25

None of them even glanced her way, although Alessandra was certain they knew she was present. They were vampires, after all, and she hadn’t attempted to be stealthy.

Kenton—hard, proud, and inflexible Kenton—knelt before the Derrickson siblings. He knelt before the Derrickson siblings, his eyes closed, his head bowed, and his hands propped on one knee. Lawrence stood above him, a wooden stake in his hand. Aspen, she assumed, though admittedly Alessandra didn’t know her wood types very well.

What in the ever-living hell?

She had opened her mouth to tell them to stop when Laria looked her way. Shaking her head gently, the vampire smiled . . . reassuringly? There was nothing reassuring about Kenton in such a vulnerable position, bowing at the feet of his enemy who held the means to kill him.

Heart hammering, she watched, mutely, unsure of what to do or how to act. But Kenton surely knew she was here, and couldn’t he stop this himself if he so wished? It was as if . . . as if this had been his idea.

When Lawrence raised his hand, the one holding the wooden stake, she could no longer hold still. It didn’t matter if Kenton had green-lit this, she certainly hadn’t consented to this. If he planned to allow Lawrence to harm him in some way . . .

“No!”

Ignoring her, Lawrence continued to move his hand toward Kenton’s shoulder.

And then laid it there, the stake still gripped in his hand.

Kenton spoke, his words forceful despite his lowered head, “On my honor, I vow to observe my allegiance to your cause completely, and for all time.”

This was getting stranger and stranger.

“I accept your pledge of fealty to our clan and our cause without reserve.”

Pulling his hand away, Lawrence handed the stake to his sister. Then, in an unbelievable display from two bitter enemies, Lawrence held out his hand, and Kenton took it. He helped him rise, and the two stood that way, hands and arms clasped, for what seemed like an eternity.

And then Kenton turned to face her.

If her mouth was wide open, it was with good cause.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“Hell yes, we do,” she murmured. “Hi, Lawrence. Laria.”

After what she’d just witnessed, the gravity of the scene she’d walked in on still weighing her down, the greeting seemed shallow. Inadequate.

“Hi,” they answered back simultaneously. A smile spread on Laria’s face as she looked back and forth between Alessandra and Kenton. “Oh!”

Oh? What was that supposed to mean?

Kenton reached her in four long strides. And then he pulled her to him and kissed her, hard.

She kissed him right back.

Not usually a fan of PDA, Alessandra forgot to care that the Derricksons were present, and worse, this was their house. Only when she’d had her fill did she pull away.

“I suppose that explains it,” Laria said.

“Does someone mind telling me what the hell is going on here?”

Suddenly, the room felt too warm and stifling.

“Never mind,” she said. “I think I need some fresh air.”

Kenton grabbed her hand, and they made their way toward the door. But just before walking through it, Lawrence put a hand on her upper arm. Leaning in, he whispered, “You can tell him now.”

She had no idea what he was talking about . . . until she did. They’d only taken one step outside when Alessandra stopped in her tracks, understanding.