Page 196 of The Vampire's Bride

I blink several times. “Three days?”

A door opens across the way and Lysander walks in, followed by Eben and Damar.

Obviously having heard my conversation with Aerlyx, Lysander nods. “That’s how long you’ve been unconscious.”

“Why are we still at the royal winter palace?” I ask. As glad as I am that Juliet is all right, I’d prefer to be back in one of our own holdings, behind several layers of protective wards.

“It was my call that we remain here.” Damar steps forward. “After you collapsed, I didn’t want to risk moving you. Juliet was only unconscious for half a day, but you’ve been asleep for three. Prince Raine’s personal healer has been checking on you regularly.”

Juliet turns to me, concern on her features. “We were worried when you didn’t wake up after the first day.”

Eben gives me a lopsided grin. “Apparently, performing miracles is exhausting work.”

“Miracles?” I frown, glancing down at my palm as the memories return. I nearly lost Juliet. “I can’t believe it actually worked,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.

“What you did,” Damar says, voice reverent, “hasn’t been done since the time of King Drovyan. Everyone saw it, Valaric. There are none who can deny it now. They saw you bring her back to life through the power of your fated bond.”

Lysander looks at me. “Word has already begun to spread throughout the kingdom about you and your ashaya.”

Prince Raine is probably thrilled about this as it will only strengthen the belief that Juliet and I are the ones spoken of in the ancient prophecy. But I worry what his father thinks. “What about King Corvin? He already considered the prophecy a threat to his reign.”

“I doubt he’s happy about this,” Damar admits. “But there’s a High Council meeting tomorrow. Now that you are awake, I think you and Juliet should attend. We need to show them that you’ve both recovered. We need them to see that the Great House of Greyvale is still strong.”

As much as I am loath to admit it, he’s right. I’d rather keep Juliet hidden away, safe from the politics of our kingdom, but we need their acknowledgment.

But I won’t make this decision alone. I turn to my bride. “What do you want to do?”

She squeezes my hand. “I think Damar is right. You told me before that Vampires only respect one thing: strength. So we must show them that we are not weak.”

“All right,” I agree.

Damar nods. “We will present Juliet to the High Council so they can officially recognize her as part of our clan and our Great House. They cannot deny you, Juliet.” Determination lines his features. “They wouldn’t dare. Not after what they witnessed.”

I lean back, exhaling slowly. Damar is right. It’s important that we show the High Council our strength, but I cannot help but worry. Tomorrow will be a test, one we cannot afford to fail.

CHAPTER 85

JULIET

The High Council chambers are dark and foreboding, with high vaulted ceilings and walls lined with intricate carvings of ancient battles, Vampire legends etched into the very stone.

Rows of polished obsidian benches curve in a semi-circle around the raised platform where the King sits, House Blackthorne's crest looming large behind him—a sword wrapped with thorny vines against a dark banner. Prince Raine sits to the right of the King, his expression as unreadable as ever, and beside him, Lord Stryker—the King's brother—watches the room with the cold calculation of a predator.

Valaric and I sit between Lysander and Damar, in the section designated for House Greyvale. Despite my husband’s impassive expression, I can sense his underlying tension through our bond.

Some of the High Council members stare at me with admiration in their eyes, but others fix me with malevolent stares.

Damar warned me of this. Even though they witnessed the fated bond between Valaric and me with their own eyes, I am still human. And to most of the Council, my people are considered lesser beings.

I push down my discomfort and straighten my shoulders, forcing myself to meet their gazes head-on. I won’t let them see any weakness.

My gaze flickers back to the center of the chamber, where the King sits, his cold eyes sweeping over the nine Great Houses. His face betrays nothing, but I know he is calculating, assessing the threat we now pose. Because if people believe the prophecy is true, it could lend more strength to our Great House. And kings do not like to share power.

The door bursts open and a guard bows low to the King. “My King, your guests have arrived.”

He frowns. “What guests?”

Even as he asks this, I notice Prince Raine doesn’t appear surprised by this. Which makes me wonder if he has something planned.

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