Page 126 of The Vampire's Bride

Everyone is silent, waiting for my response.

I bite back a growl. If Stryker and the prince are waiting for a groveling apology, they will be waiting until they are dead. I don’t regret having Aerlyx spirit Juliet away from this den of vipers.

Damar pushes through the crowd and enters the room, disapproval burning in his eyes as they meet mine.

Guilt trickles through my veins as I realize the precarious position I’ve placed him in. I would be dead now if not for the protection he gave me by making me a member of his House.

Bracing myself, I meet his gaze evenly, awaiting his judgment. I wouldn’t be surprised if he finally cut me free to salvage the reputation of House Greyvale.

He crosses the room in three strides to stand next to me, facing the prince and Lord Stryker. “You are correct, Lord Stryker,” he says smoothly. “The Right of Guest is one of our most revered tenets. And yet, less than a hundred years ago this sacred law was broken. My entire Clan was murdered in one night.”

He darts a glance at me before turning the full weight of his stare to Stryker. “Given House Greyvale’s history, I’m sure you understand why we are of the mind that there is no length we will not go to in order to ensure the safety of the members of our Great House.”

He pauses, allowing his words to sink in. “Which is why you must excuse our use of Day Guardians”—he gestures to Eben—“in the protection of Lady Juliet.”

To his credit, the wolf shifter betrays nothing of his surprise at Damar’s words.

Damar continues. “The Incubus and the wolf are only acting in service to their Great House.”

As if on cue, Aerlyx reappears. The crowd inhales sharply as his mouth curves in a devilish smile.

“Everyone into the circle,” he mutters under his breath, a forced grin on his face as worry flashes in his lavender eyes. “Quickly, please.”

Damar, Eben, and I step into the ring of smoke and everything goes dark.

The world blinks back into focus. We’re standing in a kitchen with a long countertop covered with bowls and various ingredients: flour, milk, eggs, sugar. Warmth radiates from the large oven behind us, and the delicious smell of baking bread fills the air.

The quaint wooden building is adorned with painted flowers and vines along the baseboards and moldings. The early blush of dawn is visible through the line of windows along the wall opposite the counter.

I don’t recognize this place. We should have been transported to the Manor. “Where are we?”

“My bakery,” Aerlyx says proudly. “What do you think? I’ve always found it rather cozy myself.”

I glance around the room. “Where is Juliet?”

“About that.” He clears his throat.

“Aerlyx,” I growl, impatient. “Where is my wife?”

“I took her back to the manor.”

Anger blisters through me. “Then why in the seven hells would you bring us here?” I turn to face him and inhale sharplywhen I notice his haggard appearance. Dark circles rim his eyes. His hair is disheveled and his wings and tail hang limply behind him. Concern rapidly replaces my wrath. “What is wrong with you? Are you ill?”

Leaning heavily on the counter, he shakes his head. “I’ve never transported so many at once. And in such a short span of time.” He walks to a nearby table and collapses into the chair. Hanging his head back, he stares lifelessly at the ceiling. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure we would make it here.”

“Why did you not take us to Mysthaven Manor?” Irritation laces Damar’s tone. “Why bring us to this place?”

“My magic brought me here to regenerate.”

“Regenerate?” Eben asks. “What do you mean?”

“I’m an Incubus,” Aerlyx replies as if that should answer all questions. “My magic needs to be replenished.” He sighs heavily. “Most of my kind choose to engage in rigorous carnal activities to do this, feeding off their partner’s pleasure. But because of my curse, I cannot. So, I do the next best thing.”

“What is that?” Eben asks.

“I bake things with magic.” He huffs out a laugh. “In turn, the delightful ecstasy my customers experience when they taste my pastries and breads replenishes my powers.”

The sound of humming drifts through the air and my head snaps toward it as a Fae male with shoulder-length blond hair rounds the corner, a pan full of cookies in his hands. He halts in his tracks when he sees me and Damar, his face turning ashen. “Seven hells!” he cries out, dropping the tray.

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