Page 162 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

“She should take the name with clout,” she hissed under her breath. “And as for you, it’s the twenty-first century. You needn’t be so old-fashioned. Thea becoming a Rousseaux sends an important message.”

“I’ll leave that for my mate to decide. We don’t need to prove our power to anyone. Ours or hers,” I added before Mother had an aneurysm. “The Council acted because they knew that.”

“This is about more than magic” she said, her hand still clenching my arm. “It’s about politics, alliances, and control. Don’t underestimate them. We need to send the Council a message. Thea’s presence will remind them of that.”

“My mate is not a pawn.” I yanked my arm from her.

“No, she is not. She is a Queen, and they will watch her every move, starting tonight,” she hissed.

“As delightful as this conversation is, people are beginning to stare,” Lysander drawled.

She straightened instantly, suddenly aware of the attention on us and preened like the creature the mask had made her. Looking to my brother with a courtier’s smile, she muttered through her curved lips, “And you will begin looking for your own match.”

“Like hell, I will,” he said darkly. “I’m not interested in taking a wife.”

“Liar,” she said, her voice low. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the tension between you and that handmaiden. Let me be clear, that is not a suitable match.”

“Neither was mine.” I came to my brother’s defense. “And now you’re singing her praises.”

Before the argument could continue a ripple went through the crowd. The people surrounded us turned, whispering and gasping, and I knew without looking who they stared at. I knew it like the beating of my own heart, like the skin that clung to my bones, the blood that ran through my veins. A tendril of golden magic wrapped around my heart and tugged. My frustration faded away. Next to me, Lysander’s eyes were wide. He tilted his head, wonder written over his features. Even my mother fell silent.

The entire party had stopped, and as if they knew, despite our masks, despite the enchantments imprisoning us, they had made a path that led directly to her.

Because mask or no, she was a Queen—and every soul here answered to the magic in her blood.

Thea’s transformation revealed what I’d always known—since that first moment when I’d scented her in San Francisco. She was temptation and eternity and raw, primal power.

A phoenix. Even if death touched her, she would rise again stronger than before. Unbreakable. Unyielding. Absolutely fucking untouchable.

To all but me.

Her silk gown wrapped around her petite torso, feathers in shades of orange and crimson fluttering on her shoulders, the swell of her breasts, around her hips—and they were on fire. Flames wreathed her, licking harmlessly over her moonstone skin up to where her golden mask obscured everything but her sensual mouth and her emerald eyes. They met mine and those perfect lips parted in a smile that belonged only to me—a smile that promised only I could touch that power, feel it under my fingertips, share it as we fulfilled that sacred call of our mating bond.

Which I would do as soon as fucking possible.

She showed no sign of fear as I approached, no horror at the creature the mask unveiled, and I knew what I had to do.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

THEA

He was death incarnate. Julian had always looked comfortable in the shadows, in the night. Tonight, he owned them. The lines of his black mask were brutal, cut to mimic the sharp, sculpted lines of his beautiful face. Pools of endless onyx stared from behind it. There was no hint of blue in his eyes. As he moved, light snagged on his leather clothing. On the scales. Behind him, his cloak fanned into great, veined wings.

This was the beast that lived inside my own soul, the terrible, beautiful monster that belonged to me. His magic bellowed in my blood, crying out to him in need—as if it sensed the urgency building inside me.

To touch him.

To claim him.

To show every soul here exactly who Julian Rousseaux belonged to.

Me.

His gaze never wavered from mine. Each step filled me with longing, power in his every movement. My opposite. My completion. My equal in every way. My mate.

All around me, creatures stopped to stare, sensing the connection between us. But I didn’t care. Let them feel it. Envy it. Covet it. Julian was mine, and I was his.

The mating bond thrummed between us when he reached me. Those endless eyes never left mine as he dropped to one knee before me.

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