Oh.
Fuck.
How did they find out about that? Had they put two and two together now that it was out of the bag that Vincent was immune to silver?
Feral’s slabs of muscles flexed and strained against the collar of his white shirt. His veins and the raven tattoos seemed to writhe on his flesh, dancing to their master’s fury. He looked fit to explode at the seams. “You have no proof that I did it.”
“As a matter of fact, we do,” Grigori said, with hyena-like glee that had my lungs filling with venom. The vampire gestured behind him toward the shadow-shrouded corner of the room. Pure hatred turned my mouth to dust and my hands to deadly fists, when Lexi stepped out from the shadows.
Chapter thirty-eight
Sweet as Arsenic
Whenthesuccubusemergedfrom the veil of shadows where she’d been quietly observing the meeting, unholy rage twisted through me.
Before, Vincent’s stone-cold ex had been an icicle in my side. Now, I hated her. I hated how she’d let her petty jealousy get this far. If the council deemed Vincent guilty of murdering the vampire king, they’d probably execute him.
No way was Sterling or I going to let that happen. We’d have to get physical with the Elders, and that would get bloody. And if the entire Council of Elders died before the crown was on my head, we risked the covens turning on us.
She could ruin everything.
It’s not like I was the least bit surprised Lexi was the first in line to hurl Vincent under the bus. After all, I’d more than stolen her toy. She’d been under the delusion that Vincent would have picked her to be his queen should he have been the one to win the throne. In her eyes, I’d robbed her of her chance to be queen.
“Let me handle this,” Sterling whispered into Vincent’s ear, tight and scathing. “And for the love of God, do not shift.” His head twisted, so his hollow stare bore through me. “That goes for both of you.”
Vincent’s glare was so erosive, I was sure Sterling could feel it eating right through him. My stomach flipped with unease. Vin had a hard time holding back his monstrous fae form once he got explosively angry. It took a lot to push him past that point, but something told me we were on the cusp of a full-blown murder trial in which he was the only suspect. Add in the fact that Sterling now posed as a potential obstacle in his mission to be the first to impregnate me, and well... Things weren’t looking too good on the whole anger management front.
“Brother,” Sterling bit out, “please?”
Vincent’s barreled chest lifted with a deep inhale as he tried to collect himself. “I’ll try.”
Satisfied, the priest paced back to his seat and took his place once more among the Elders.
“Council,” Lexi practically purred as she made a low curtsey before the row of thrones. “It’s an honor and a privilege to be granted an audience with you.”
Her voice was all honey, smooth and sensual. She had to have some kind of sex-demon magic that attracted males, because three of the four council members leaned forward. One licked their lips, a creepy glaze to their eyes. The Rasputin-looking one—Grigori—even placed his hands over his crotch to not-so-subtly conceal his erection.
“Miss Alexandra,” Elder Grigori crooned. “Until recently, you were very close with Prince Feral, yes?”
“Yes, Elder. Until the princess arrived, we were mates.”
Vincent’s eyes flared, and he looked ready to refute the succubus, but Sterling was quicker. “As the highest ranking member of this coven, I am aware of all the mated pairs within our home. It was Miss Alexandra’s wish to be the prince’s mate, presumably to secure a higher position within the vampire hierarchy. However, she was nothing more than a favored blood donor for my den brother.”
I could see a vein in Lexi’s temple throb in the wash of moonlight highlighting her profile. “That’s not true!”
“By all means,” Sterling said with a wave of his hand, “produce your mating mark to prove my statement false.”
“I–I don’t—”
“Have one?” The silver prince’s brows arched high into his hairline, a hint of a smirk tucked at his mouth’s edge.
“That’s not fair. That mortal—” When Sterling sent her a look of warning, she corrected with a sputtered, “P–princess. The princess doesn’t have a mark either.”
“No. But as the council can see, he carries hers, and as the council can scent, only hers. Your testimony is that of a servant testifying against a royal vampire.” Sterling leaned back in his chair with an annoyed sigh. “This ‘testimony’ is likely the tantrum of a low-ranking blood whore who got a little too attached to her fantasy of a high station. So I suggest we take whatever she says with a grain of salt.”
Mother of God, Sterling was a wolf of a lawyer. I almost felt the beginnings of pity for the hybrid until she whirled around and pointed a finger at Vincent.
“I didn’t know Prince Feral was a dark fae until after The Warehouse match, but I knew he was immune to silver. The night before the king’s death, he demanded I come to his bed. He bragged about obtaining several gallons of liquid silver.”