Page 59 of Heir of Blood and Moonlight

Curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked over my shoulder.

Ash was blocking Gavin, as I had suspected, but he also held Bastian’s arm in a firm grip, keeping the shifter from following me as well. “She wants to be alone,” Ash said.

Bastian leaned in close. “Try to stop me,” he said, a growl in his voice.

Rolling my eyes, I faced forward and picked up the pace, hurrying toward the grand staircase at the heart of the house. I jogged down the steps, and before I realized where I was heading, I had crossed the foyer and was entering the infirmary. My steps slowed as I approached Micah, stretched out on his back on the padded examination table, an IV tube feeding fluids and magic-laced medicine into his arm and a few cordsconnecting him to the monitors arranged beyond the head of his makeshift recovery bed.

One of the vampires who had doctored Micah when we first arrived sat in the corner of the room, reading a book. She looked up as I entered the room, then stood and set her open book on the counter.

“How is he?” I asked, approaching my unconscious son.

She carried her chair closer to the bed. “He’s healing well,” she said, setting the chair down and gesturing for me to sit.

I offered her a quick smile and eased down into the provided seat. “Thanks,” I said, reaching out to grasp Micah’s limp hand in both of mine. His skin was warm, and his fingers reflexively curled around mine. “He’s the only family I have left.” I shook my head, my brow furrowing as I looked over Micah’s body at the vampire healer. “I’m so sorry. You saved my son’s life, and I never even asked you your name.”

She smiled. “Greta, my lady,” she said with a bobbed curtsey and a bow of her head. “And it has been my greatest honor to serve you.”

“Please,” I said, again shaking my head. Embarrassment at her deference pushed my focus down to my hands. “You don’t have to do that.”

Greta bowed her head again. “I’ll give you some privacy,” she said and swept from the room.

I watched Greta leave, then heard her muffled voice as she spoke with Bastian out in the foyer. Of course he had followed me down here. I turned back to Micah. At least my shifter seemed satisfied with waiting outside for the time being.

So much had changed in the past day. I was now the proud owner of a harem of four immortals, one of which had been missing for over two decades and was likely being held prisoner by the Sun King along with untold numbers of our people. How many queens were still alive, held captive by the House of theSun for even longer than Javier? Gavin’s mother was a queen. I still didn’t know if she had survived the Sun uprising or been killed during the attacks, and that was assuming she had even still been alive at the time.

“I don’t know how to feel about him,” I confessed to Micah. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m the most important thing in the world to him—me, the woman, not the queen. But at other times, he seems so conflicted, almost resentful.” I let out a breathy laugh. “Which makes sense because he has spent the past thirty years working toward something, and now that I’m here, that all goes out the window.”

I exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of Micah’s hand with my thumb. “They think I can be their savior, but I’m just me. I don’t know the first thing about being a queen, let alone the High Queen. Maybe they should stick to the original plan and trade me to Veris for the rest of our people, find a queen who actually knows what she’s doing.”

“Don’t be dumb, Soph.” The deep voice echoed throughout the room.

I jumped in my seat, my heart suddenly beating double time. That voice—I knew that voice, and it certainly wasn’t Bastian back in the foyer.

A shimmering mist appeared on the other side of Micah’s recovery bed. It slowly coalesced into the foggy iridescent shape of a man, gaining more definition and recognizable features with each erratic beat of my heart.

I stood, releasing Micah’s hand. “Wes?” I breathed, my heart lodged in my throat.

36

He was easily recognizablenow, looking the same as he had on the day he died down to his jeans and flannel button-down shirt, save for his opalescent transparency. The hint of a smile touched his handsome, ephemeral features. “I’ve been waiting for you to leave the warded area, but I didn’t want to scare you,” Wes said, less of an echo to his voice now that he had taken on a visible form.

I had the photo in my wallet, and memories, of course, but those had faded over time and my mental image of Wes had long since blurred around the edges. But seeing him now, not a day over eighteen, forced every memory and detail back into crisp, clear focus. I shook my head, at a complete loss for words. Maybe I should have expected to see him here, especially after his brief appearance in my office the other day, but I hadn’t. The part of me that was from here, that belonged here, felt entirely separate from the part of me that had lived out in the human world with Wes.

“Geesh, Soph,” Wes said, his lips twitching with the hint of a smile. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I barked a weak laugh and covered my mouth with one hand.

His expression grew serious. “I never left you, you know,” he said. “After it happened, I followed you to the hospital. You were never alone.”

My eyes stung as tears welled, and I sniffled. Again, I shook my head, my jaw working as I searched for words. “I wish I’d been able to see you,” I said, finally lowering my hand.

Wes smiled that hesitant grin that had stolen my heart all those years ago, softening his big tough-guy appearance. “Your sister explained everything to me—about what you are and why you couldn’t see me but should have been able to.”

“Amaya?”

“Oh yeah,” he said, laughing softly. “She’s around here somewhere. We’re practically BFFs. Her words, not mine.”

I snorted my amusement, picturing the two of them palling around together, like a mastiff hanging out with a Chihuahua. “You and Amaya arefriends?”

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