Page 40 of Blood Bound

“Am I? Or are you just afraid I’m getting too close to the truth?”

“Enough!” Arabella’s voice cracks like a whip, silencing us both. Her eyes blaze with anger as she looks between us. “I will not have two of our most prominent members bickering like children in my presence.”

I force myself to take a step back. Lucien does the same, though his eyes promise retribution.

Arabella’s gaze fixes on me, her expression unreadable. “Darick, these are serious allegations. Whether they’re true or not, the fact that they’ve been raised at all is…concerning.”

I work to stay composed as Arabella’s words hang in the air. Her eyes, cold and inscrutable, give nothing away.

“You’re dismissed, Darick,” she says, her tone brooking no argument. “I’ll speak with Lord Marlowe alone.”

Goddammit!

The thought of leaving Lucien here with her, free to spin his web of lies, is almost unbearable. I open my mouth to protest, but Arabella’s sharp glance silences me.

“That wasn’t a request,” she says, ice in her voice.

I bow stiffly, my eyes never leaving Lucien’s smug face. “As you wish, Grand Elder.”

As I turn to leave, Arabella’s voice stops me. “And Darick? I expect a full accounting of your recent activities. Soon.”

The implied threat in her words is clear. I nod once, not trusting myself to speak, and stride out of the room. The heavy door closes behind me with a finality that sends a chill down my spine.

I pause in the antechamber, my mind racing. What is Lucien telling her now? How much damage has he already done? The uncertainty gnaws at me, fueling my growing unease.

Is Arabella falling for Lucien’s lies? Or is this all part of some larger game she’s playing?

The not knowing is maddening. I’ve always prided myself on being steps ahead, on having contingencies for every scenario. But now, I feel like I’m fumbling in the dark, and the stakes have never been higher.

I storm out of Arabella’s chambers. Lucien’s smug face is burned into my memory, and I can almost hear him spinning more bullshit to the Grand Elder. The urge to turn back and confront him is almost overwhelming, but I know it would only make things worse.

As I stride through the corridors, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, grateful for the distraction from my turbulent thoughts. It’s a message from Marcus.

My eyes narrow as I read the cryptic text: “Strange activity detected in sector 7. Witches involved. Details unclear.”

“What the hell?” I mutter, my brow furrowing. Sector 7 is firmly in vampire territory. No witch would dare venture there without good reason – or a death wish.

Then it hits me.

Rowan.

It has to be.

“What the hell is she up to now?” I growl. After the scene at the Nocturne Lounge, I wouldn’t put it past her to do something reckless. But this? This is beyond foolish.

For fuck’s sake, woman!

I quicken my pace, my mind already racing through possible scenarios. If Rowan’s involved, she could be in serious danger. And if she’s caught by the wrong vampires…

I shake my head, pushing away the dark thoughts. I need to focus, to think clearly. But all I can see is Rowan’s face, her eyes flashing with fury and something else – hurt, maybe? – when she saw me at the Nocturne Lounge.

“Dammit, Rowan,” I mutter, my fingers already flying over my phone to message Marcus back. “What the fuck have you gotten yourself into this time?”

13

Chapter 13

Rowan

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