Page 1 of Protecting His Vampire Mate

PROLOGUE || BRYAN

Iwas probably the only vampire in history who had ever stood in front of a coven of upset witches and wanted them to do something completely awful to me. But I already knew they wouldn’t. Not even after I had drained a bunch of them dry and very nearly caused a massive war between the witches and vampires of the city as a result.

“On this eve of Litha, as the sun sets upon the longest day of the year, we gather here to pass judgment upon the vampire centered here in our circle for the deaths of nine of our brothers and sisters.” The Witch Queen herself stood before me, in a long burgundy dress, her blond hair wavy and shimmering in the soft glow of the faerie lights. She looked regal, formidable, and very, very witchy. She added, raising her eyebrows at me, “Please speak your full name.”

“Bryan Peterson,” I gritted out. As if she didn’t already know it.

I resisted the urge to heave the frustrated sigh that was building up inside me. The pomp and circumstance of all this was completely ridiculous. I already knew she was going to pardon me, even if I didn’t want her to. Why not just send everyone an email or something instead, if she wasn’t even going to bother to do her job properly?

Why force everyone to watch as she let me off the hook completely?

It seemed like at least half the coven was there, on the back lawn of the stronghold. They stood in an enormous circle all around me, keeping well back. I didn’t look at any of them. But I could feel dozens of pairs of wary eyes on me, their faces streaked black and gold from the ring of faerie lights the witches had conjured, tiny motes of light hovering in the air like fireflies, which did little to beat back the deep purple shadows from the rapidly gathering twilight.

Tatiana’s violet eyes met mine and there was a softness to them that I didn’t deserve. She had linked her mind to mine only two weeks prior, in order to obtain information about the warlock who had enchanted me. She had seen everything I had done firsthand. How could she even look at me now? But somehow, seeing it for herself hadn’t made her recoil from me in horror, but had instead softened her to me.

She acted like she knew me or something.

“On behalf of the witches of Seattle, it is the decision of this council that we formally pardon you, Bryan Peterson, for crimes committed while under the influence of any spells cast by Giles Ames.”

She didn’t shout her words or anything, but somehow her voice carried at a normal volume, flowing out from her, and I felt certain that every single coven member present heard it clearly, as though she were standing right next to them. It was a spell of some sort, no doubt.

It took a moment for the meaning of her words to really register for me. Even though I knew how she felt, I still stood there, staring at her, willing her to say something else. Maybe she could banish me from the city? Or put me under house arrest or something?

Anything would have been better than nothing.

But she cast a look around, probably to see how her words landed amongst her people, and she seemed satisfied by whatever she saw there. She turned her attention to me again, met my gaze, and added, “You were an instrument of Giles Ames, a member of our own council. He was a murderer, a traitor to our people, and an enemy to this city at large. You participated in his downfall, and for that, our coven owes you a debt it can scarcely repay.”

There were murmurs of assent from the ring of witches and warlocks gathered around us.

It set my teeth on edge. Didn’t they understand how ruthlessly and mercilessly I had killed? I didn’t deserve any kudos. Especially since I had barely done anything at all. I had merely turned myself in to the Vampire King of the City, Nathaniel Bailey, half expecting him to end my life when he realized what I had done—that I had very nearly caused an all-out war. I had merely cooperated with them. Everyone else around me had done all the heavy lifting.

Tatiana paused, her gaze still locked with mine, and allowed silence to gather for a long moment before continuing.

“Giles Ames cast no less than a dozen spells of compulsion upon you. Forbidden magic, which he gathered illegally from the coven’s archives. His enchantments robbed you of your freedom and your will. You shall be held blameless by this coven for his crimes, under penalty of death. None of us shall ever act to cause you any harm in response to his actions. And none among our people will ever harbor any desire for vengeance, nor any desire for your misfortune.”

I strongly doubted that last part.

There had to have been someone amongst the assembled witches who had known at least one of my many victims. Maybe a family member? Or a friend? Perhaps even a lover? There was surely someone present who would see me standing there, back ramrod straight, entirely unharmed, and see a monster who should be put to death for taking someone they loved away from them.

Next to Tatiana stood a short and thin warlock with a mop of shock-white hair and the same strange violet eyes as his mother. Ethan Solomon, the last member of the coven that I had attempted to kill.

He was the very reason I was even here to begin with, operating under my own power again. His blood had broken the compulsive spells that Giles—a very dark, very evil, very twisted warlock from Ethan’s own coven—had placed me under. He didn’t seem to hold any grudges, though.

He even gave me an encouraging smile. He thought I was innocent too. Just like his mother did. It didn’t hurt that his best friend, Tobias Hawthorne, was my mate.

Beside Ethan stood Poppy Hawthorne. With her slight frame, pale skin, wide eyes, and the long and unruly mane of fire-engine red hair trailing down her back, she looked less like a witch and more like a woodland sprite or a seriously pissed off pixy who had somehow misplaced her wings.

She, at least, seemed a bit more skeptical of the Witch Queen’s declaration. Because at Tatiana’s words, she cast a wary glance into the crowd gathered around us. Whatever she saw there apparently was bad enough to cause her to scowl. Her hands twitched slightly, as though she wanted to cast a spell but had stopped herself.

She traded a dark look with Wynn, the other member of the Witches’ Council, who stood facing me. Wynn was an older woman with a severe face, going gently plump with age, with her steel-gray hair pulled back into a tight bun.

But when Wynn turned away from Poppy and met my eyes, I didn’t see any fear or hatred there. Only concern.

For me?

The thought caused my throat to close up and I fought the instinct to turn and run. I might have done that anyway though, if not for the man standing beside me, holding my hand in his with such supreme gentleness that I couldn’t quite bring myself to wrench my grip away.

When I glanced over at him, Tobias Hawthorne gave me a reassuring smile and squeezed my hand. He was Poppy’s twin brother, Ethan’s best friend, and the guy who was apparently my soulmate. Allegedly. According to the Verum Amor, a spell he had cast years ago in order to reveal the face of his true love, that had shown him me. Tobias swore that the Verum Amor is never wrong.

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