Page 31 of Fire & Ice

"Why yes," I purred, lacing my words with honey. "I would be at your beck and call councilman."

And with that, our game had begun.

Chapter 33

Deakon

The heavy ring felt like a brand searing my flesh as I stood alone in the twilight hallway, my heart hammering with anticipation. Ever since Sara had placed it upon me, I was consumed by her—the beguiling scent of her skin, her melodic voice lulling me into a trance and those captivating eyes that seemed to hold a universe of secrets.

"Deakon," she intoned earlier, her gentle breath tickling my earlobe. "I need you at the Royal Court's meeting tonight. Show them your strength."

No matter how much I wanted to deny her request, her words held me in a vice-like grip and eventually I found myself unable to resist. As the grand doors revealed the royal council's chamber thronged by elite vampires and halflings, I could feel their piercing stares, as though they knew something about the dark magic that had been cast over me. My apprehension grew even more when Baron Vashcroft greeted me with his smug grin, thrusting out his bejeweled hand.

"'Ah Deakon Lacey," he said, "Glad to see you've finally decided to join us."

My eyes narrowed at the baron's words, suspicion creeping up my spine. Did he know about Sara's hold on me? Or was there something else he was plotting? I forced myself to keep a neutral expression as I shook his hand. "My apologies for the delay, Baron," I replied smoothly. "I was...preoccupied."

I turned away from Ashcroft and my palms grew slick with sweat as I watched the king approach, my insides churning with equal parts trepidation and desire to please Sara. No matter how hard I tried, her control over me was a raging fire, threatening to consume me completely, and I think that I would want to please her even without her dark magic wrapping around me. "Deakon, my boy!" King Lucas approached with open arms, a fond smile plastered across his face. "Ready to make your mark on this gathering of esteemed peers?"

"Of course, my king," I lied.

"Excellent!" The King clapped me on the back. "We're all eager to see what you bring to the table."

As the parliament meeting commenced, I took my seat at the round, ornate table, steeled myself for the night ahead, and prayed that I could fulfill Sara's wishes without betraying my own instincts.

The air in the Royal Court Parliament Meeting was thick with tension, and I could feel it pressing against my chest like an invisible weight. My gaze darted around the room, taking in the hungry eyes of the elites that surrounded me, all eager to sink their teeth into the night's proceedings.

"Deakon," Prince Beau's voice broke the silence, "we're waiting."

I opened my mouth to begin speaking but could no longer ignore the whispers of Sara in my mind—the same ones that had urged me to disregard my own instincts. As I summoned the words, they felt foreign on my tongue yet strangely satisfying at the same time. "Esteemed members of the Royal Court," I began, my voice wavering slightly. "I propose we hold a masquerade ball in honor of Beau and Tempest, since our king in waiting has finally found his mated half and completed the Mating Ritual."

The thought of pleasing Sara made it all feel worth it. My heart raced and my stomach twisted into knots, but I forced myself to remain composed, lest I betray myself in this court of vampires.

"Interesting," murmured one of the council members, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What is your reasoning behind this proposal?"

My throat felt like a desert as I forced out the words. "Their love is a testament to the power of our kind," I lied through gritted teeth, images of Sara's smile flashing before my eyes. I had to continue, no matter how much I wanted to turn tail and run. "By celebrating their union, we demonstrate our commitment to supporting the continued growth of the Royal bloodline—a bloodline that has persevered through time and adversity."

The crowd erupted in conversation as my proposal lingered in the air.

"Ah, a masquerade ball!" Lady Cordelia enthused, her eyes twinkling with delight. "How splendidly romantic!"

"Indeed," murmured the elegant Lord Rothbury, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he considered the idea. "A fitting tribute to young love and triumph over adversity."

Others, however, were less enamored with my suggestion. A whisper of doubt slithered through the crowd, its venomous tendrils wrapping around the hearts of those present.

"Is it wise," questioned the Duchess Morwenna, her voice laden with skepticism, "to indulge in such frivolity amidst our current predicament?"

"Perhaps," replied Sir Osric cautiously, his eyes drifting toward me with something akin to suspicion. "But do not underestimate the value of unity and celebration in times of strife."

"Silence," commanded King Lucas, his deep voice cutting through the din of conversation like a sharpened blade. The room stilled, all eyes turning to him and Queen Tatiana, who sat serenely beside him on their imposing thrones.

"Your creativity and initiative are most commendable," added Queen Tatiana, her enigmatic smile hinting at approval. "We believe this event could serve as a beacon of hope and inspiration for our kingdom."

I bowed my head in deference, barely able to contain the bubbling excitement that surged through me. In the back of my mind however, Sara's smirk flashed like a warning sign, a reminder of the danger that I had now chosen for myself.

"Of course," I said, speaking with a boldness that belied my shaking heart. With each word I spoke, I could feel the stones of my decision resting on my chest, slowly erasing any chance of backing out.

Queen Tatiana surveyed me closely with her steel gaze. "We look forward to witnessing your vision come to fruition."

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