Page 62 of Queen of Vampire Hearts

Then, as I watched, Malcolm seemed to come undone, as if he could not keep the information in. “They had my sister! I had no choice but to betray you, Phoebe. I loved you.”

Lucien hissed, no doubt irritated at the other vampire’s past with me. The knots in my stomach intensified. This was the first time I’d seen Malcolm since my life went to shit, and it looked like he was already making a mess of my newest relationship. I planned to reveal everything to Lucien, but never like this.

“So, you stole my grimoires and disappeared on the orders of someone else?” I asked.

I assumed he had done it of his own will, that he had merely waited until I’d received my grimoires to move against me. Grimoires were valuable on the black market, and I’d despaired of ever finding them again.

“They got in touch with me right after you showed me the grimoires, Phi.”Phi.It was his old nickname for me. When he made to step toward me, his hands out in supplication, Lucien growled, forcing him to step back again. “I thought Mia was dead, but they showed me they had her. It was your grimoires for her life,” he muttered, shame coloring his tone.

That he’d betrayed me to save his sister did nothing to lessen the fact that he left me at the mercy of the Witches Council. “You couldn’t have told me this? I would have helped you get your sister back.” I would have done anything for him at the time. He’d been there for me when I’d lost my parents.

Malcolm visibly gulped. “I couldn’t risk you saying no.”

His eyes kept going back to Lucien, looking like he was about to piss himself from fear. He was afraid of what his king might do, as he should be.

Lucien allowed his burning gaze to bore into Malcolm a moment longer before saying, “So let me see if I understand this. Some group who claimed to have your sister approached you. They informed you that in exchange for her life and freedom, you had to steal and turn over Phoebe’s grimoires. You did so, knowing the Witches Council would sentence Phoebe to death because of it.” Malcolm glanced down at the floor in shame, bowing beneath the weight of his cowardice, but Lucien wasn’t done. “And then, you left her to face the consequences alone?”

I couldn’t help but fall even more in love with him. Lucien’s voice was harsh, and his jaw clenched as he growled, “Phoebe?”

Without words, I knew what he was asking. I’d imagined Malcolm’s death hundreds of ways over the last ten years. Now, with revenge right in front of me, it felt stale. Lucien would execute him, giving me everything I thought I wanted, but I wasn’t able to give the command.

“Let him go,” I answered. “He’ll have to live with the mistakes he’s made.” I rose, coming to stand face-to-face with the cowering vampire. “One thing before you leave—who was it?”

Who destroyed my life, making sure I remained on the run for the next decade?

“It was eight members of the Witches Council,” he whispered, and my head snapped back as if he’d struck me. Why would they set me up?“I only saw two of them, Hans and Monteux, but I smelled the rest of them. They were all witches.”

My eyebrows went up in shock at the names of two of the highest-ranking members of the Council. I knew both had survived my littleexplosiveepisode.

“Leave. Before I ignore my queen’s wishes and paint this room with your insides,” Lucien bit out. With a rush of air, Malcolm disappeared from the throne room, his tail between his legs.

Slowly, I turned to face Lucien, bracing myself for his reaction. His eyes were still a violent red, and he was barely holding himself together.

“Did you love him?” The words were little more than a growl, garbled by his fangs and fury.

I shrugged. “I did at one time.”

The arm of his throne disintegrated as it broke away in his fist. He lunged to his feet, pounding at the wall in frustration. Dust flew into the air, his strength forcing the stone to yield to his fury. I’d never seen him so angry, but I felt no fear that he would lay hands on me. I knew no matter his mood, he would never touch me in anger. He whirled back to me, still seething.

“Do you still?” he spat the question. Was he seriously more enraged about me loving Malcolm than about what he’d revealed?

“No,” I answered resolutely, and some of his anger seemed to ease. I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. “I had planned on telling you everything today, but not like this, never like this.”

I stood and walked to the massive window, gazing out through the tempered glass. Lucien was breathing hard, but I didn’t look back at him. “There’s more, Lucien. After they found out about the grimoires, they brought me before the Council to answer for what Malcolm had done. Loss of a grimoire is a death sentence. There are no exceptions.” He came up behind me, but I did not turn back to him. I couldn’t. “When they sentenced me, I...I lost control. Magic seemed to force its way out of me in waves, like an explosion. Before I knew it, there was ash falling from the sky, ash from their corpses.” I choked back the memory but knew I had to get it all out now, or I might never leave. “I killed a good portion of the Witches Council that day. Those who survived, I placed a memory charm on. They each recall different people when they think of me.”

Lucien was at my shoulder, and I closed my eyes, bracing myself to turn around and see how his face had lost that glowing look of pride. He placed a soft hand on my shoulder, forcing me to face him, but I kept my eyes closed so I didn’t have to see his disgust. He placed his finger under my chin, tipping it up.

“Is that what you’ve been dreading telling me?” His voice was light and amused. “That when faced with death, you fought to live?”

My eyes snapped open in surprise, meeting the green of his. They were compassionate, almost understanding. “I killed so many witches that day, Lucien.” I felt the tear slide down my cheek at the memory. He caught it on the tip of his finger and flung it away.

“Did a single one of them speak up in your defense, vote against you being put to death under some archaic law?” he softly asked. His hands framing my face, he continued. “Did anyone explain how you were being sentenced to death because of the actions of another?”

I wanted to glance away, but he held me fast. “No. They did not.”

His eyes searched mine. “Then every single one of them deserved their fate.”

I gasped in surprise. “Why do you say that?”

---