Page 16 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

The taller one said, “Nothing, sir. This is standard protocol.”

Standard protocol, his ass. Ryker knew something was wrong. He could feel it.

Probing for answers would have to wait because the Chancellor cleared her throat. The microphone screeched. Ryker winced.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Republic, I apologize for the delay.” The Chancellor’s smooth, melodic voice rang through the space. Like Ryker, Ignatia Rose was a fae, but her element was fire. “There was a slight incident.”

That would explain the guards.

“Fortunately, the situation has been dealt with, and we can now begin.” The Chancellor smiled, but nothing but ice came from the fire fae.

Ryker didn’t believe the Chancellor. If everything was resolved, why were there so many guards present? The problem, whatever it was, still existed. He’d bet on it.

He remained alert as Ignatia continued speaking. As was tradition, she regaled the attendees about the history of the Choosing, and of the Founders’ desire that the Choosing would bring strength to all and unite the continent. The Chancellor reminded them that the Choosing wasn’t just for the Representatives and their families. Six participants were Selected from the general population to join the competition. It was an honor that would elevate their status and lift them into the echelons of high society in the Republic of Balance.

The Chancellor was in the middle of explaining the timeline of the next three months when suddenly, a scream ripped through the air from the back of the ballroom. It was so sudden, so unexpected, that for a moment, no one moved.

Then, that sense of dread exploded in Ryker. He released the railing and spun around as all hell broke loose.

CHAPTER 5

A Curse and a Blessing

Brynleigh was in the middle of an internal debate about how bad it would look if she slipped into the Void to escape this wearisome ceremony when a high-pitched scream cut through the Chancellor’s monotonous speech. Was it bad that, for a moment, she’d been happy because it meant she could focus on something other than the history of the Choosing?

As soon as the ceremony had started, Brynleigh was looking forward to its end. Not only was the speech ridiculously tedious, but all the women wore floor-length black strapless gowns and four-inch stilettos. The shoes seemed designed to inflict agony upon the wearer’s feet, and Brynleigh wanted to take them off as soon as possible.

Another scream came seconds after the first.

Brynleigh’s head snapped back, her eyes narrowing as she searched for the source of the cry. Her shadows pulsed within her, and she let a few slip as her fingers curled into fists. The damned shadows cloaking the middle of the ballroom, designed to keep them from seeing the men, made seeing anything at all nearly impossible.

There.

At the back of the ballroom, by the exit, a guest was on the ground. Even through the shadows, Brynleigh made out their prone form.

Her nostrils flared, and her heart raced.

Blood.

She’d recognize the scent anywhere. It was her life, after all. The source of her immortality. Her everything.

A snarl rumbled through the elevated box, and it took a moment for Brynleigh to realize the sound came from her chest. She stared at the floor, warring with herself.

Half of her—the monstrous, deadly, violent creature built for death itself—wanted to vault over the railing. She’d summon her wings and make it onto the floor in one piece. The other half—the rational, logical one—remembered that she wasn’t there to feed. It urged her to leave before she did something stupid and endangered her entire mission.

The other women were yelling, and Brynleigh could’ve sworn someone was crying, but their voices were muffled.

Brynleigh battled the dueling desires within her. Like all vampires, blood was her weakness and her strength. A curse and a blessing. The giver of her life and the pulsing, never-ending need in her veins.

Her fangs sliced into her tongue as she stared at the growing pool of red on the ground below. It wasn’t that far. Two, maybe three stories. She could be down there in a flash. Her shadows would protect her while she fed. She could?—

“Ladies!” a guard shouted, his commanding voice snapping Brynleigh from her thoughts.

She jerked her attention away from the body, turning to face the soldier.

“Follow me,” he ordered. “I have orders to return you to the Crimson Lounge immediately.”

A sigh of relief slipped past Brynleigh’s lips as she moved towards the guard. Each step took her further away from the crimson pool of temptation.

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