Page 115 of Bitten Vampire
“I do not. My heir’s ascension stands, if the Council permits.”
“We, the Vampirical Council, accept your abdication and the heir’s investiture.Let the Silence record:by your motion and with our assent, this is honour, not penalty, recorded under Accord 401.4.”
The ceremonial staff slams against marble; power thrums through bone and stone.
“Hear the Silence,” the Herald booms, “and mark the record: Valdarr Blóðvakt, Master of Clan Blóðvakt, Raven of the North, is henceforth Grand Master—first among fang and law, steward of the Accord.”
A heavy wave of magic rolls the tiers. The bone-whiteranks rise as one, then drop to one knee, heads bowed to the new Grand Master.
Silence holds. Every gaze lifts to Valdarr.
“Council. Herald. I accept.”
The Herald waits; everyone seems to expect more—perhaps a speech. Just before the silence turns awkward, he dips his head. “Grand Master.”
James steps forward, bearing a stack of thick, cream-coloured parchment edged in gold and pricking with enchantment.
“By leave of the Council,” Valdarr says, “we file the following registrations: pursuant to Accord 910.7, Mating Bonds and Claim Marks, the mate-bond between Valdarr Blóðvakt and Winifred Crowsdale; pursuant to Accord 502.3, Non-conforming Daylight Physiology, day-walker designation.”
The Grand Master nods and smiles; everything is going to plan.
“And pursuant to Accord 910.2 and Accord 903.1, Oracle Designation and Handling, registry of gifts—Oracle.”
Silence takes the Hall. A councillor or two forgets to blink.
The Herald clears his throat. “The Council receives and enters the filings. Day-walker and oracle statuses shall be provisionally recorded pending Ministry countersignature under Accord 903.1 and 502.3. Clan Blóðvakt, you are most… fortunate.”
An aide bows, lifts the parchment from James, and bears it toward the lectern.
“Stop!”
The Grand Master’s roar splits the chamber like a thunderclap. Every figure freezes.
Everyone freezes—everyone but Valdarr.
While I watched the Herald, he never once took his eyes off his father. Mine was the mistake; his wasn’t. Valdarr’s father is livid.
“An oracle?” he snarls. “Why was I not told? She ismine. I brought her into this life, I should benefit from her gifts.”
The Heraldturns, blue robes whispering. “Former Grand Master, the record reflects a duly filed mate-bond under Accord 910.7 and provisional Oracle designation under Accord 903.1. Further, Accord 112.6 Prohibition on Prior Claim against a Bonded Mate—extinguishes any antecedent assertion. You have no standing. By your abdication under Accord 401.4, you retain no claim and no recourse.”
“I have a claim!” The old monster’s voice cracks like a whip.
“Former Grand Master,” the Herald warns, staff lifting, “Accord 12.9, Sanctity of Court. Stand down.”
His fingers flick—a familiar, deadly gesture.
Oh no.
Chapter Forty-Four
The ward separatingthe seated vampires does not fail this time; it strengthens.
“You will all obey!” The Grand Master’s words drop like a magical bomb. The air shifts. Power knifes through the hall; glass trembles, balconies shudder, lights gutter and dim. The command rolls through the room, and I can almost see it spreading—first hitting the council, then rippling outward.
It bounces off the Herald but continues like a wave from a stone thrown into a pond. It hits the guards, then smashes through the ward, sweeping over every single vampire.
He’s compelled them all, taken over their minds.
