The Emerald Lily (Vampire Blood #4)

“Perhaps. What do you know, my lord, that you are not saying? For I can see a glint of merriment in your eyes?”

“That celebration at your birth, Queen Morgrid threatened revenge upon your family. Because she dealt in the dark arts, everyone feared that she had indeed placed a curse upon you and the king. But then a woman appeared, dressed all in white. She was a white witch, to be sure.”

“A white witch? I’ve never heard of such a woman.”

“They are rare and live apart, for fear of being burned as witches.”

Mina shivered. “But my nurse spoke of such a woman once. Before she was taken away. What did this white witch say or do?”

He hopped up and ambled to the far shelf, his long, bony fingers tracing over the spines of old books. “Ah. Here it is.” He snatched the tattered book from its shelf and shuffled back toward the dying firelight.

“What is that? Grimmstone?”

“Yes. A first edition. I pen many things in the notation section as my memory fades.” He flipped through the back.

“Well, you are a man of many years.” Mina wondered what other interesting memories he had penned.

“Here we are.” He cleared his throat and read. “The white witch dusted a piece of hartstone onto the infant princess’s face and said, ‘A prince will awaken your heart with a blood kiss. Not long after, you will drink fire into your soul and awaken the beast of vengeance and righteousness. And courage and hope. Blessed child, you will awaken the white queen with emerald eyes and smite the evil one with one bite. You will be the savior of them all.” He snapped the book shut.

Mina peered up at him. “I was awakened with a blood kiss.”

He nodded. “And soon you will be the white queen to save us all.” His voice cracked, tears brimming.

Mina threw her arms around this old man who was a mere stranger till an hour before. Her heart poured out with love for him, this vampire who’d risked his life to save his queen and who’d lived a life of exile for it. For it was his bravery and devotion that allowed Mikhail to come into the world.

He squeezed her tight and whispered, “You must be our white queen, Your Highness. You must be.”





Chapter Twenty-One


Mikhail had been waiting in the dark of her bedchamber for quite a long time. Long enough for Mina to accept Lord Rathbone’s proposal and seal their betrothal with long, lingering kisses. Perhaps more than kisses. He fisted his hands on the arms of the chair in the corner.

Finally, he heard the quiet snick of her door opening and closing. She entered on silent feet, carrying a single candlestick, which haloed her face, making her appear even more angelic. His heart ached at the sight of her. She set it on the sideboard near the window and looked out. Was she thinking of him? Or Lord Rathbone?

Mikhail swallowed bitter bile, for this was all his own doing. He’d been confused on how to handle his undeniable feelings for her with the slaughter of their army, and his blood brothers, in Silvane Forest. He’d kept her at a distance, trying to work through it all. Well, no more.

He watched her slide off her slippers and stockings with a soft rustle of silk, then unlace the bodice of her gown. She could use some help, but he remained there in the shadows, watching and wanting. Before she could slip it from her shoulders, he spoke.

“Did you accept him?”

She gasped and squeaked at the same time, spinning toward him. “For heaven’s sake, Mikhail. Don’t frighten me like that. What are you doing sitting here in the dark?”

“Did you accept him?” he asked, the words scraping against his throat.

She paused, her arms crossing her chest, still holding up her gown. “You overheard Lord Rathbone’s proposal?”

“No. But I know men like him and how they think. He deduced why we were here the moment we stepped into his blue parlor and will have realized that an alliance of his house with the Arkadian throne would be a strong one. And beneficial to him.”

“I see.” She continued undressing, pushing the gown down over her hips and stepping out of the circle, standing in only her sheer chemise, tied with white silk ribbons at the shoulders. “And what do you think?”

Starting at her bare ankles, he looked his fill—at the slender curve of her thighs, the dark thatch of hair between her legs, the indention at her waist, the subtle curve of her breasts, pink nipples hardened against the transparent fabric, her slender arms at her sides, and svelte neck tall with her chin raised. A paragon of beauty and royalty. And pure woman. A possessive vise gripped his chest and squeezed, his beast murmuring in the dark. Mine.

His fangs throbbed in his gums, extending and forcing his mouth open. He wanted to sink inside her in every possible way, slip into the sweet oblivion of Mina.

“I think he’s right.” The truth of it ripped him in half. “He would be a strong partner and ally to win the favor of the House as well as the people of Arkadia.” He should stop talking, the thought of losing her like a knife slitting up his spine. But he had more to say, to make her understand. “But it will never happen. You don’t belong to him.”

After a moment’s pause, she unpinned her hair and shook out the waves around her shoulders.

“Come to me, Mikhail,” she beckoned, and he was sure his soul slipped from his body at her command.

“Did you accept him?” he asked yet again, softer but shaking, gripping the arms of the chair.

“Come to me, and I’ll tell you.”

Slowly, he shoved out of the chair and stood, then strode toward her with long, hard steps, stopping only when he was mere inches away. She didn’t reach up to touch him. And he didn’t reach out to touch her.

He couldn’t understand the expression on her face, both adoring and somber at the same time. “I did not accept him. Because you’re right. I belong to another.”

He couldn’t move, relief washing over him so fast his vision hazed.

“You asked me once what it was like when I was in the bloodless sleep.” She licked her lips, emotion shaking her voice.

“Yes.”

“There were times I could hear people moving in the room around me, even talking like I wasn’t there, like I was invisible. While I lay there in pain.”

Mikhail wanted to break the bones and slash the throats of every man in that tower. Again. He kept his fisted hands at his sides while she continued.

Juliette Cross's books