38
THE EMBERS OF HOPE
M y finger grazes Nevan’s as we head to the dining room for our final meal at the Blood Den.
I resist the urge to take his hand in mine.
Despite having just been completely naked in front of him, nerves bubble in my stomach at the thought of curling my fingers around his. Such an intimate gesture, and one I never thought I’d crave, not after so many months of wanting nothing but his death.
I pride myself on always being a master at playing the game, but it seems somewhere along the way, this time, the game has played me.
With a deep breath, I vow to tell him the truth about myself if we make it out of the Blood Den alive.
We pass a few servants on our way, and every time I hope Aella will be one of them. But she isn't. And my lingering hope that she’s here somewhere, still alive, is quickly fizzling out.
Nevan’s presence next to me is the only thing helping me keep my composure. Ever since he walked into the Temple of Secrets, I've felt a connection to him. But now, it’s as if energy buzzes between us.
He reaches out his hand and loops his pinky around mine.
I don’t pull away as a smile overtakes my face. I’m struck by the foreignness of my reaction.
We hold pinkies until we arrive at the dining room, where we release each other's fingers and give each other a final look before sauntering into the room with our heads held high. The lingering aroma of freshly baked bread and savory herbs fills the air, making my mouth water.
Mavet's goal had clearly been to break Nevan in one way or another, and our final plan is to show how little his games have affected the prince, even if it isn't the truth.
The Blood King sits at the head of the table with a raw chicken thigh in his hand.
"Welcome, friends," he says and bites into the pink flesh. "I can't believe our time together has come to an end."
My hunger vanishes, and I resist the urge to gag as he chews with his mouth open, clearly a purposeful act.
Once we have taken our seats, Nevan says, "Thank you for your hospitality, Mavet. You've given me a lot to think about."
"Please, before you make your final decision, let's enjoy this meal, Princeling. I have a story to tell you.” Mavet tosses the half-eaten piece of meat onto the table. He spits a piece of chewed tendon into his hand and tosses it with the rest of the meat.
Although my appetite is long gone, I make an effort to eat a little of each of the five courses the Blood King has brought out, one by one. Not eating at all would only showcase my unease.
Nevan seems about as hungry as I am, and after we pick at the apple pie, he says, "I think we should be going now."
"Patience, Princeling.” Mavet takes his last bite of pie, the apple filling dripping down his chin. “Gods below, this pie is delicious, don’t you think? Solendale apples really are superior. Though I’ve heard to fully appreciate them, one must be fae.”
His gaze settles on me and the few bites of food I’d managed to eat sour.
“Now it's time for my story.” Mavet pushes the empty plate away. "I grew up with two brothers, like you, Princeling. Though I was the oldest and my parents’ favorite, the dream son as we first borns always tend to be. And the one with all the responsibility.” Mavet sighs. “I was meant to marry the Solendale Princess, to secure peace between our people as tensions between humans and fae were on the rise.
“Unfortunately, before the princess and I exchanged our vows, I fell in love with a human woman. The princess didn’t take too kindly to being replaced, and so, in a rage, she cursed the crown and attempted to kill me. But my lover stepped in front of the magic and was the one to die instead.”
Mavet was once heir to the Valazican throne?
The Blood King stares at the empty pie plate in front of him. “I won’t bore you with all of the details, but in my quest for revenge, one of my brothers and I stumbled upon a ritual to Malikar. We got the power we craved, and we got ourselves cursed.”
There is a reason Malikar isn't worshiped by the common people of Valazica. His magic is dark and, legends say, he hates mortals—which explains why vampires feed from human blood.
Nevan lifts his chin. "Do you expect us to feel sympathy for you? Poor Mavet had his heart broken and so he founded the House of Blood and turned into a monster."
"Monster is a harsh word, is it not?"
"Not when the accusation fits."
"You're a lot like my brother," Mavet says. “He sought Malikar with me then, and only after helping with the ritual that created the House of Blood, decided we'd been in the wrong in our quest for power. As if simply changing his mind was enough to erase his participation."
I mull over his story for any detail that might be important. “So, you never became king?”
“No. Not being able to step outside during daylight proved too difficult to keep hidden. My youngest brother figured out what we’d done, and he banished my brother and me from the kingdom. The bastard told the people we’d been killed by the fae princess and took the crown for himself when our father died.”
A strange, fearful sensation turns in my stomach. Something is wrong.
Underneath the table, Nevan rests his hand on my thigh. “What's the point of this?"
"Ahh, yes. I'm no fool. You didn't come here to give any honest thought at allying with me. I've watched you since you became a vampire. You've done everything you can to fight the blessing it is to belong to the House of Blood.”
Mavet picks his teeth with a leftover chicken bone from dinner. "I must admit how surprised I was to see you at The Red Raven with her."
I tense, understanding that Mavet doesn't intend to let me leave without revealing my secret to Nevan.
The prince takes my hand. "Don't make this any more complicated than it needs to be, Mavet. I'm not king yet. When I am, we can discuss how the House of Blood will continue under my rule."
"I don't think you should be so quick to dismiss what I have to say," Mavet says. "Your lovely lady has been keeping a secret from you, Princeling. While you've been here, feeling guilty for everything that you are, she's conveniently left out exactly who she is."
My gaze narrows onto the Blood King. "Nothing about what I am changes who I am."
For so long, I’ve hidden the secret of my heritage. I’ve pushed down any part of me that came from my fae father and swore I would never allow myself to access the power lurking deep within.
The only magic I’ve ever used was a glamour to soften my harsher features, the ones that might make someone suspect I was half-fae. I’ve been so fucking afraid of what I might become if I unleashed my fae side, so afraid of what people might do to me in a kingdom of people who’d sooner stomp on a dying fae than offer a hand.
Worse than that, I’ve spent my entire life feeling dirty inside, shamed by the potential I have, afraid it somehow will ruin me.
But as I defend myself to the Blood King, I believe my own words.
I face Nevan, keeping my chin high. "I tried to tell you last night."
I refuse to be embarrassed; I can’t change my heritage.
The prince glances at Mavet out of the corner of his eye, the first sign of worry flashing on his face.
I take his face in between my hands and bring his gaze to mine. This is my fucking secret to tell, not Mavet's, even if the choice isn't mine anymore. "I'm from Solendale. My mother was a human servant in the Day Court."
I pause, searching for the nerve to speak a truth I've hidden for so many years aloud.
"She's half fae, Princeling.” Mavet practically glows as he speaks.
Nevan sips from the wine he hadn't touched all meal. "And this matters to me why?"
My entire body relaxes at his reaction. He hadn't seemed to hate the fae princess as much as the rest of Valazica, but I never thought he'd react so nonchalantly to my heritage.
"It's nice to see the alliance with the fae has already changed the hearts of nobility," Mavet says.
"I don't speak for any of my family.” Nevan shrugs.
Mavet flashes a frown. “Well, that news didn't go as I planned. But that isn't the only thing I have to share with you. Sensing Zariah's fae blood wasn't the biggest reason I was surprised to see you two together, seemingly lovebirds. The Red Raven wasn't the first time I sensed the fae blood in you, dearie."
Right as he grins at me, I know we are in deep, deep trouble.
"You might have escaped The Silver Lady that night, but not before I inhaled that mouthwatering scent of yours. It was milder than I remembered the scent of the Day Court Fae, but then I sensed the earthiness of humans in you.
"I saw the utter panic in your eyes when I chose your friend. And then like the sneaky little resistance member you are, you went out the back door, leaving your poor innocent friend behind."
He shakes his head.
I had thought I'd felt guilt before, but now, the weight of it punches me like a sword through my gut. I grab at my stomach.
"Judging by the lack of reaction from you, Princeling, I must be right that she already confessed that part to you. And yet, the two of you came here, together. I can only think of one thing that would join you as allies.” The Blood King brings his index finger to his chin. "Let's see. Zariah came to you for revenge, and to save your dark, brooding self, you told her her friend didn't actually die that night. At first, she didn't believe you, but then an ember of hope lit within and she understood if you were telling the truth, her friend might not actually be dead. Am I close?"
The terror stabbing my stomach is too much for me to respond.
Nevan rests his hand on my shoulder. "What do you want Mavet?"
"I want my House to live in a kingdom that doesn't shove them into the shadows." He raises his right hand and two females I don't recognize enter the room. "And you aren't going to be the one to give that to me so..."
Both of the females pull something from the front pockets of their jackets and, before I can tell exactly what they’ve grabbed, they chuck something at Nevan and me.
A prick in my arm is the only thing I notice before the world goes black.