I inhale a deep breath of early spring air, then blow it out. “We’ll be alright.”
 
 “I hope so. Anyway, your father wants to speak with you. But you know that, right?”
 
 “Mm.” I turn and head back into the house and toward my father’s office. When I reach my destination, I knock and am called inside.
 
 Stepping through the doors, I’m met with radiant sunlight shining through the windows. A soft baroque melody floats on the air—Jean Baptiste Lully? Maybe. I’m not sure. Eve is on the couch with a book propped up near her face and my father is behind his desk. The surface is neatly arranged with his treasured odds and ends.
 
 He’s holding some papers but he looks up at me, deadpan and speaking in his northern tongue. “Your mother is going to have a nuclear meltdown about this. I hope you’re emotionally and mentally prepared.”
 
 Stressed, I walk over and take one of the tufted armchairs positioned across from his stately desk. “Yaud, käm sanvack an.” I plop down and rub my palms against my face.
 
 Yeah, I know.
 
 “Why is your hair suddenly in such a chaotic state?”
 
 “Ah, sorry.” I lift both hands to smooth and quell it back.
 
 “He was painfully tense during lunch,” Father goes on, settinghis papers aside. “Why was his manner so… cross? He barely made eye contact with you. Is he ashamed? Is he ill?”
 
 I drop my palms. “He’s had some very difficult experiences in life since we last met him. He’s coping as best he can. And yes, he’s ill.”
 
 “You’ve fed from him,” he declares. “You’ve marked him and he carries your scent. But he has not fed from you.”
 
 “He hasn’t.”
 
 “Will you offer yourself?”
 
 Another heavy sigh. “I don’t know.” I didn’t mark him on purpose. This happens naturally when any vampire feeds deeply and repetitively, but much more so if the blood potency is imbalanced. Like pouring whisky into a glass of soda.
 
 I love Daniel. I’ve loved him for a long time, I’m realizing. Day by day, I’m increasingly aware of the depths of my feelings for him and it exposes me. In my bedroom earlier, it was as if he’d pushed me to the edge. If Raphael hadn’t knocked, I would have fallen over into an abyss. A void of what exactly, I don’t know.
 
 I’d give him anything he wanted that was within my power, but I also worry about… everything. If he feeds from me, his weakened nature will latch onto me. Is he ready for that? What’s happening inside of his head? Learning whatever irrefutable truth lies within his mind... Once I know, we can’t go back.
 
 He says that he loves me, too. But then, his actions are contrary. He snatches away from me and avoids my gaze. He’s hot and cold.
 
 If there’s resentment toward me somewhere within his mind and he feeds from me? I’ll know it. He can’t hide that.
 
 “Be certain, Alexander,” Father cautions. “If you give yourself to him, the road ahead will not be an easy one—not in the beginning, anyway. It is your choice… a far superior choice over Lord Cherrington, frankly.” He rolls his eyes.
 
 I smile, relieved to finally hear him admit this aloud. “Do you remember when we were in the car on the way home from the Álvarez estate?” I ask. “After we saw Daniel play that evening?”
 
 My father leans back in his chair, grinning as he folds his arms across his chest. “Of course. When you candidly asked me, ‘Why can’t I choose a vampire like Daniel?’ How could I forget such a poignant moment?”
 
 “I’ll always remember your response. You said, ‘Maybe someday, you can.’ It was so different from what Mother or any other vampire in Central was saying—about ranked vampires, about status and purebred superiority. It almost felt like an open invitation. To remake the world in whatever way I wished to see it.”
 
 Father huffs from his chest. “I’m not sure that my intention was as grandiose as that. But I have always wished to offer you the sovereignty to think, live and choose of your own free will, because I was not allowed to do so. As you are well aware.”
 
 “I know.”
 
 “I promised myself that I would not burden my own child in that same manner… much to Victoria’s displeasure. Sometimes, I wonder, might we have been happier in our mated arrangement if I had ruled over you with an iron fist? If I had acquiesced to the brusque show of ‘masculinity’ and dominance that she preferred? Somehow, I doubt it. I much prefer this, Alexander. Your ease in confiding in me. Your trust in these delicate situations.”
 
 If my father had raised me strictly, the result would have beentwodysfunctional relationships within his nest instead of just one. I’m sure of it.
 
 “Despite his palpable discomposure today,” Father goes on, “I quite remember his sense of will and eloquent dignity. He still exudes a quiet grace that pairs well with your bright vitality. Together, the two of you are like… kings positioned on opposite sides of a chessboard. One cast in shadow, the other in light. One pensive and sharp, the other gallant and zealous. The perfect balance for reshaping and governing a new world. I support your choice, Alexander, for whatever it is worth.”
 
 My heart swells in my chest as I blink.
 
 Wow.