I was unsure how to word my next question—unsure how much I wanted to show this woman I barely knew. Just the fact that I was having this conversation with her revealed more than I felt comfortable showing.
“You will find,” I said at last, “that most vampires don’t think especially highly of the Turned.”
“I’ve gathered that.”
“Many vampires don’t have especially benevolent reasons for Turning a human. My maker was no exception. So, since you like to be blunt, I’ll be blunt, too. If you don’t want to be here, Lilith, you don’t need to be here. If any of this has been against your will—”
“No.” She bit out the word fast, then laughed, like I’d just said something ridiculous. “No. It’s not like that. Vale Turned me to save my life.”
I didn’t find this especially convincing. They always say that, I wanted to tell her.
Do you want to live? Neculai had asked me. And I’d said yes, too. I’d begged for life. Like a fucking fool.
“Sometimes it can start that way,” I said. “But—”
“I’m here because I want to be here,” she said firmly. “Vale treats me with nothing but respect and affection.”
I’d been watching closely, and I had never seen anything that contradicted that. But I was still skeptical. Vale was the same man who had witnessed horrific abuse on Turned slaves in Neculai’s court, and had treated it as nothing but normalcy.
“Good,” I said. “I’m happy to hear that. Just know that if anything changes, you will never be trapped. Not here. Not in my court.”
A faint smile flitted across her mouth. “I appreciate that. More concern than I thought I would get from the king.”
She stopped at a set of double doors. “This is my room.” Then she bowed her head. “Thank you for walking me.”
I waved away the bow. “Of course.”
I started to turn away, but Lilith called after me, “Highness.”
I glanced back over my shoulder.
“You’re distrustful of Vale,” she said.
That was very true, and also something I was absolutely not going to admit out loud. “Vale is my highest general and I give him all the trust befitting that position.”
She looked unconvinced. “You dislike him, then. Why?”
Ix’s tits, this woman.
I smirked. “I’m sure Vale has his reservations about me, too.”
Lilith didn’t answer, and that was answer enough for me.
“You’ll learn eventually that it’s a strange thing to be so long lived,” I said. “So much can change in a couple of centuries. But you carry all that shit with you, anyway. Centuries worth of it.”
She smiled a little. “Not so different from humans.”
I shrugged. “Maybe not.”
I turned away again, uninterested in sharing more uncomfortable honesty. “Goodnight, Lilith. Thank you for indulging my curiosity.”
32
ORAYA
The castle looked different. I couldn’t remember if it had been this way when we’d left, or if it had changed in the time we had been away. Either could be true. Before, I was in such a haze of grief and anger that I could barely process the world around me.
Now, as I wandered around the twilight-empty halls of the castle, I wondered if it had always been this… bare. So different than when my father had ruled this place, all the Hiaj art stripped away. I’d expected that they would quickly be replaced with Rishan art, Rishan trophies, Rishan artifacts—all the same preening signals of power, just with a different kind of wing.
But Raihn hadn’t done that. He’d left the walls bare. The whole castle was empty, as if trapped in the space between an exhale and an inhale.
Maybe that was what drove me out into the human district that night. Nothing about my home looked familiar anymore, so perhaps I was looking for something familiar out in those dilapidated streets—after all, they had forged me just as much as the castle had.
Or maybe I just really needed to go kill something that deserved it. I’d accept that answer to.
But when I got there, the human districts had changed too. They were… quiet.
I hadn’t been out here in months, not since Raihn and I had come during the Kejari. In the past, whenever I’d neglected my duties for more than a couple of weeks, the district would be crawling with vampires. I expected to find a killing field ripe for a harvest.
Instead, perplexingly, I found no one at all. Not a single hunting vampire. Nothing.
After a few hours, I sighed and leaned against the wall. Reluctantly, I slid my blades into their sheaths.
Was I actually disappointed that I wouldn’t find anyone to kill tonight? That was selfish of me. I should be glad.
I was glad.
And confused. A little suspicious.
A welcome gust of wind cooled the sweat on my skin. It sent a wooden sign across the street clattering against the brick building. My gaze fell to it—to the sign that read, Sa d r ’s, but perhaps had once said, Sandra’s.
A familiar, shitty little pub.
I rubbed my dry tongue against the roof of my mouth. Suddenly, the taste of cold, foamy, absolutely fucking terrible beer sounded… strangely appealing.
I stood up, stretched, and decided I could handle a detour.
I didn’t know what the hell I was thinking.
I kept my leathers buttoned all the way up to my throat—more than far enough to hide my Heir Mark—and drew my hood up tight. My wings were gone. I had no sharp canines. Most importantly, I wasn’t a vampire.
And yet, I still felt so out of place. Every time someone casually glanced my way, I had to resist the urge to run.
The pub was packed—even more than it had been when I’d come here with Raihn. It smelled of sweat and beer and burning candles. Voices all melded together into a single rush of laughs and jokes and flirtations and ill-fated bets on cards.
I had been surprised the first time I came here, to see how relaxed the patrons were. It had seemed foolish for a human in Obitraes to do anything but live in constant fear.
Now, they seemed even more carefree. And this time… maybe I couldn’t fault them for it. I’d spent hours wandering these streets in search of dangers to protect them from and had found none.
Maybe that was worthy of celebration.
Still, their behavior felt foreign to me. If some tiny part of me had come here searching for familiarity, I hadn’t found it. I had some human blood, but I was nothing like these people—even if a part of me wished I was.
“Hey, pretty girl, you here alone?” a young, copper-haired man said, sidling up to me, and I shot him a dagger stare that made him make a face and immediately turn away.
I realized after he left that I’d had my hands on my blades.
For fuck’s sake. What was I doing here?
You don’t belong here, little serpent, Vincent whispered in my ear. Here among the mice.
Even in my head his voice was so disgusted by them, so dismissive. I could hear it so clearly, because I’d heard that tone from him countless times in life.
It set my teeth on edge. My fingers tightened at my sides.
Fear is a collection of physical responses.
I forced my breath to slow, my heart rate to lower.