Page 19 of King of Moon and Claws

Bastian was at odds with himself. He had checked out the storage room where the vampires had been butchered and instructed his men to gather the dead. Vampire bodies needed to be burned to prevent possible resurrection. When he returned from the alley, more shifters had gathered, even ones who hadn’t been privy to the attack itself.

As king, he had two options. He could lie to them and assure his people that all was well in order to prevent panic. Or he could come clean and tell them about the possible war between the vampires and shifters.

Both had their pros and cons. If he lied, he would have to keep his story straight. While his people mostly adored him, they were also curious and intelligent. They had seen him with Elora, kissing her head and holding her close. They knew she wasn’t some damsel. She scented of matehood.

He stood in the town’s square with his men on all sides and answered in a loud, assertive tone. “I want to thank all of you for your help today and for responding so promptly to the message sent out to save my dear Elora. I want to assure all of you that the vampires have been dealt with. It was an abhorrent event that will not occur again.”

The crowd mumbled and grumbled. The man who had asked the question about the new defense stood before the king, his expression contorted with impatience.

“What about the telepathy?” he repeated.

The king had nowhere to go with that one. He felt like a politician, evading the truth that would only harm the people more than they could comprehend.

“The telepathy was Elora. She has the ability to speak to multiple people at once. It was how she called to me for help and how I called back, requesting all of your aid.”

“But she’s human, isn’t she? How can she do that?”

Bastian was getting irked. The man before him had helped in the attack, so he felt entitled to an honest answer. But the king could not give him that. So he simply ignored him and shook his hand fiercely.

“Thank you so much for your hard work. I promise you that the vampires have been dealt with. You all have nothing to fear.”

The people were not convinced. And frankly, Bastian understood why. His response was rather pithy.

“We should get back to the castle, My King,” one of his men suggested.

“Indeed.”

He gave the people a broad smile, profusely thanking them. But there remained an unease hanging in the air as clouds blanketed the skies overhead. All Bastian could do was escape and return to the drawing board.

This was far from over. Vasilis was dedicated in his pursuit of Elora, enough to destroy years of agreed-upon peace. That meant there were certainly going to be more vampire attacks. There was a war brewing, and that needed Bastian's full attention.

As he hurried back to the castle, he glanced at the people’s long faces, the skepticism, the frustration, and distrust. He couldn’t blame any of them, but he had to have his own answers before he could give any.

“Do you really think it's over?” one of his closest soldiers asked. “Those vampires seemed ready, My King.”

Bastian sighed. “No, I don’t think it’s over. We have a lot to go over before any of this is over. No more questions, though, please. I have to think and get back to Elora.”

The man did as he asked, remaining silent as they headed to the castle. He wanted to be with Elora. He could keep her safe as long as she no longer ventured outside of the castle walls.

That was where he had ultimate control and power. But the real problem was his inability to control her.

There was a lot for the king to deal with upon his return.

TWELVE

BASTIAN

As soon as Bastian arrived at the castle, he received word that Nerys was on the mend. Due to her shifter nature, her recovery would be swift, and the king was thankful for that. She was one of his longest-serving, loyal housekeepers. It would break his heart if something were to happen to her.

Especially if it had been his fault.

Anger bubbled up inside him as he moved down the corridors to Elora’s guest room. The emotion surprised him in its intensity, replacing the sense of relief he’d felt when planting eyes on his mate safe in the alleyway.

He hadn’t informed Nerys that Elora wasn’t to leave the castle. That wasn’t the older woman’s fault. It was Elora’s fault for not heeding his instructions or taking into account the safety and well-being of his people.

The king was glad, of course, that Elora was safe and sound, but that disappeared quickly. The anger took over like a firestorm in his chest, burning up his throat.

The king knocked on Elora’s door loudly enough that it echoed through the hallways. He heard her get to her feet and turn the knob to greet him.

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