Page 85 of Stalked By Seduction and Shadows

“If Durian has also intercepted whispers of a war in Ravenia, then it’s possible that this could be an even bigger play,” I said, and all eyes flew to me. “I’d always assumed that King Earle would detest Durian for his bold chosen one claims. But if the king has to fight to hold his reign, especially against mortals and turned forces… he will need our exports now more than ever. Allying with us would be the safest assurance of a steady resource flow, but not if he assumes we would band together with the turned and mortals in Ravenia. Or if he thinks a born-turned war here is inevitable, and it would be more advantageous to back his own kind.”

“You think he might consider taking back Valentin?” Uriah asked, and hushed murmurs fell over the room.

“That would be risky,” Mason added. “It could spread him too thin, especially given the geographical barriers.”

“But he’d have the born forces already here, right next to us,” Uriah said.

Percy, one of our oldest in both years and appearance, stepped forward. “This is all contingent on a war in Ravenia, which is not at all certain. For all we know, tensions could be eased with a more concentrated transfer of power, such as the council enacting a coup.”

“True,” I said. “The best-case scenario would be a peaceful visit with the dignitaries, a coup that ends with an alliance. We could barter for greater freedoms for Valentin and allowances to crack down on the born as we see fit. But I’ve never known fate to dole out best-case scenarios. It’s best we prepare for all possibilities.”

“Now that the born have blatantly broken the peace in their slaughter of Cedar in Nyx, we will enforce an even harsher rule of law,” I continued. “If they want to attack blood centers, then we will kill all born in bloodlust to protect mortals. No more Good Samaritan policies. Born districts will be patrolled even heavier. Gatherings that encourage or even hint at lawbreaking will be squashed.”

As I continued giving my new orders, the energy of the room shifted. The looks on these vampires’ faces at once both energized me and scraped at my guts. Because I recognized this energy. I remembered how it felt the last time.

The beginnings of wartime were unmistakable. It was the feeling of infinite possibility, hope for a better world, promise of conquest and triumph, of brotherly and sisterly connection that forged bonds stronger than blood. It was thirsty, and it was untamed.

I could see clearly which faces in the crowd had known war and which had not. The virgins to great conflict didn’t know how this energy shifted and slithered out of our control as war marched forward. They hadn’t seen piles of corpses that went on for miles. They hadn’t witnessed their homelands reduced to ash. They hadn’t watched the light die out from a child’s eyes—mortal or born, because I’d seen enough of both to conjure the image in a split second.

I hoped tensions would resolve with a quick and bloody coup and a tactful dismantling of Durian’s psychotic brand of rule.

But I knew better by now.

As the meeting devolved into comradery and morale building, I wasn’t focused on the burgeoning shadow magick in the air. Nor was I transfixed by the looks of devotion and dedication from my men and women as they passed around willing mortals and pledged themselves to me.

I saw Little Flame singing a mournful song to the stars, their celestial light shining down upon her as if her radiance didn’t put the cosmos to shame.

40

SCARLETT

Idetested having a babysitter about as much as Arrowe was elated to be trusted with the task. Her devotion to Rune creeped me the hell out.

Or maybe it was a different feeling that churned in my stomach when she’d all but drooled at him as he spoke.

“Behave,” he’d whispered in my ear, disappearing by shadow before I could talk back.

I expected Arrowe to shoot me with questions as soon as Rune had left, but she didn’t ask a single one. Or at least, none that had anything to do with me or why she was watching me. It reminded me of the men who’d carried up the furniture Rune had gifted me, having not a clue why they were doing what they were doing.

No wonder Rune had a god complex. It seemed whatever he wanted, he got, no questions asked. Which of course only made me want to deny him, to make him work for it, even if saying no to Rune was, historically, something I struggled with.

“I’ll be in the natural history section,” Arrowe chirped, brushing her curly brown hair behind her ears.

It took me a moment to snap out of my dumbstruck daze, my head tilted up at the ginormous three stories of books and art. It was a place right out of a fairy tale, fit only for royalty. Warm light trickled through arched windows on the far wall overlooking the gardens. A thin layer of forest separated the castle from the sprawling city beyond. We were in the middle of Nyx, residential zones on all sides. The castle was like a beautiful piece of the past left preserved here in the present, a haven of deceptive tranquility in a sea of tension and blood.

Or, at least, the parts I had seen were nothing but peaceful. Rune hadn’t yet unveiled his secret dungeons and piles of skeletons.

Golden vines with decorative leaves coiled around the wooden banisters, and witch lights levitated all around. Sometimes I’d catch a glimpse of floating books rearranging themselves among the towering shelves.

I blinked, finally acknowledging Arrowe. “Natural history?”

“I like bugs,” she said simply, offering no further explanation.

I nodded slowly. I did not like bugs. But to each their own.

“Don’t leave, okay?” She said, cocking her head and letting some of her inner crazy ooze into her soft brown irises. She stared, unblinking, showing the tips of her fangs. “I’m faster than you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I said, taking a firm step away from her.

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