Page 46 of Little Mate

“Never, my lord. Please forgive me.”

“Give him a chance, Theo. It’s a shock, and will be the same when my people learn of this.” They both speak in unison, but it’s her remark that I focus on. It makes me smile, a genuine one, and a few gasp at the sight.

“To this degree?” I’m intrigued by the thought. How they will react. “Should I be concerned?”

“No. I’d never allow harm to come to you.” The vehemence, the truth in those words, ring through the room and those present look up in wonder. The truth slamming into the vampiric kingdom like a wrecking ball as all, no matter where in the world they are, will feel this moment. “That is my vow to you.”

“I’d kill for you.” To protect. Because someone pissed her off. Both are acceptable to me. “You will always come first. Will always be my priority.”

Gabby’s grin is saucy, the twinkle in her green eyes so enchanting. “Let him go, Theo. He’s learned his lesson.”

“Submit, or death.”

“King Astor, please—”

“Submit or death, Veltross. There is no other choice.”

“My loyalty will always be to the crown.” In pain, he rights himself and draws the injured arm to his chest. His eyes are on her this time. The respect he’s showing now makes me look over at Brodej and he nods, already knowing what I’m thinking. Something is off with Veltross. “All hail our queen. May she lead us toward prosperous paths and many victories.”

“All hail the queen.” The voices meld, the room vibrating with the echo of our people. “All hail the queen.”

Brodej leaves the room while his wife moves closer to the woman Veltross was glaring at earlier. She’ll be watching her while Brodej does a little digging for me.

Something isn’t right.

I’ll be paying close attention to them both.

The elders are the first to rise, coming closer to where we stand. Their posture is unintimidating, trying to appear submissive as to not scare Gabriella, but my pretty girl just smiles and extends a warm hand to Carlo, the older of the group.

“Your majesty, it’s a pleasure to—”

“Call me Gabriella. You have my permission after your honest acceptance without doubting your king once.” The man is surprised, but you can see the ease at which she makes him feel, the calm that infiltrates every single inch of the castle at her poise and gracious display. “Now, I’m starving here. When is dinner being served?”

No one responds. They’re not sure how to, but me, I laugh. It rumbles up my chest and is loud, the eyes of all here on me as they take in their king so relaxed. Doing something so mundane.

“Only you, pretty girl,” I say, my amusement reverberating throughout the room while Gabby shrugs, her tiny hand intertwining with mine. More of our subjects ease up. They even let out a snicker at the irony. She’s won them over without trying. “Want to watch the monsters feed, or join?”

“You drink, and I chew.”

“Deal.”

I took her back to my quarters to change after that, choosing to pull her away before people could come and talk to her. Not yet. Not after the reactions of some, something the elders understood, and after a few more introductions with the group, they bid us goodbye and chose to prepare our meals in the formal dining room.

A show of respect to both.

They’re not dumb. She’s the Wiccan princess, daughter of the strongest sorceress and warlock to have ruled their lands. Paolo and Leonora were not to be taken lightly and their demise took many hands—heads that I will serve my pretty girl on a golden platter.

After changing, we walk back hand in hand to the dining room, the halls clear of any lingering vampires. My warning earlier, Veltross’s hand, still lays in the middle of the floor as a reminder. Rank or no rank, I will teach a lesson.

The severity lies in the infraction. How upset Gabriella is.

Not that she paid them any mind; her head is held high and her body lax beside mine as I pull out her chair and help her sit. My hand lingers on the soft skin of her neck before taking my own place at the head of the table.

“You look beautiful, Gabriella.” A touch of pink blooms across the apple of her cheeks, and I want to nip her skin there. Just a tiny cut. A few drops of her blood will appease me more than whatever meal is going to be brought inside.

“Thank you, but it’s—”

“I like you in my clothes.” And I do. The long dress shirt she borrowed dwarfs her small frame, the bottom edge sitting a little below mid-thigh. The white material lays gently over the swell of her breasts, highlighting the lack of underwear—something I adore on her.

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