Page 86
Story: Vampire's Hearth
Declan bristled beside him. “Must you?” His voice was steady, but the tension in his shoulders gave him away. “You don’t like her—I understand that—but you know how I feel.”
Aiden rolled his eyes, the gesture dismissive. “Feelings,” he muttered, barely audible.
I placed a forkful of the roast into my mouth, savoring the deliberate pause as I chewed and swallowed. “Declan, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve spoken about finding the right woman—about marriage, even. Should I be congratulating you?”
Declan’s eyes widened in fear as he glanced at Aiden. “No,” he said quietly, his voice hollow. “My place is here, with Aiden. I only see her every few weeks.”
I dabbed my mouth with my napkin and turned to Aiden. “Surely, you wouldn’t deny your closest ally the joy of marrying his mate? It would set quite the example, wouldn’t it? A union of strength, loyalty—a perfect show for your… council.” I gestured lazily to the table around us, a pointed jab at the absurdity of his gathering.
Aiden’s knuckles turned even whiter around his glass, but he forced a smile. “Declan has never spoken of marriage—not since he left you behind.”
I arched a brow, letting the silence grow before I responded. “You think his heart has changed that much? Or perhaps it’s your influence, Aiden—your need to remind everyone who holds the power. But even you must see the value in allowing such a union. Unless, of course, you’re worried your council might view it as a weakness. That would explain this…” I looked pointedly around the room. “This spectacle.”
Aiden’s jaw clenched, and he dropped his gaze to his plate.Perfect.A perceived weakness—real or otherwise—was something he couldn’t tolerate.
After a long pause, Aiden turned his head toward Declan. “My brother is right, isn’t he? You wish to marry this—human.”
Declan cleared his throat, the sound breaking the heavy quiet that had fallen over the table. He inhaled sharply, his voice firm despite the tension in his body. “Yes, I do.”
Aiden tapped a finger against the table, his expression a mask of calculation. Finally, he waved a hand in annoyance. “Fine. Do it. Quickly. But nothing else changes. You will be at my side when I need you.”
Declan exhaled heavily, the weight of the moment written across his face. “Of course, Aiden.”
He glanced at me, the barest hint of a smile crossing his lips. Gratitude, mixed with disbelief, flickered in his eyes.
Aiden turned back to me, his eyes narrowing. “Satisfied?”
“Perfectly, thank you,” I replied, raising my glass with a faint smile. “Congratulations, Declan. You deserve it.”
Aiden sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now that you have something you desire, back to the Cure. You were just going to tell me all about him, weren’t you, Cormac?” His eyes gleamed with a fervor that bordered on madness.
I took my time standing, allowing the chair to scrape against the floor, the sound a sharp protest of the growing silence. “Actually, no, I’m not.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” demanded Aiden, his eyes flashing with anger. “I haven’t said you could leave.”
“You do a very poor imitation of Father. I’ve indulged you enough.”
His hand curled into a fist on the table, the wineglass trembling with the strength of his grip, though his voice remained steady. “Sit down, Cormac, or I’ll have you killed.”
I leaned forward, placing my hands on the table. I met his eyes and saw the hesitation behind the threat. He needed this charade of power, this illusion of control. Killing me would destroy the fragile web he had spun, and we both knew it. “No, you won’t because as much as you don’t want to admit it, you wish your family was at your side. This entire show was a hope I would stay right here. But I will not engage in your war.”
As I straightened, a hand landed on my shoulder at the same time as I smelled the wolf. The air next to me whistled, and the wolf collapsed. I barely caught sight of the handle of the silver blade that had pierced his heart, killing him.
The others at the table didn’t even gasp. A woman sitting a few seats away fought against her trembling lip as tears gathered in her eyes. She must have been his mate.
Aiden smiled, his elbow still sitting on the table from the blade he had thrown. “Sit down, or the next one goes in your chest.”
My brother’s eyes grew wider as I walked past him to the French doors, opening them and feeling the air rush around us. I took a calculated risk that only two day walkers were in the room, Aiden and Declan. And I knew the wolves' speed was no match for mine.
“Do you think I won’t find the Cure and kill him myself? And your witch.”
“You won’t lay a hand on either of them,” I said calmly, walking into the sunlight. My demeanor hid the pounding of my heart. What would happen if Aiden got to them? I turned my gaze to the crumbled body of the wolf who had only dared to lay a hand on me.
“Declan,” sneered Aiden, holding the hilt of a silver blade toward our friend. “Show my brother back to his room.”
“Certainly, Aiden.” Declan took the knife and hesitated for only a second before he raced toward me, the blade pointed toward my heart.
But that second was all the time needed for the look of understanding that passed between us. At the last moment, I stepped to the side, allowing him to pass me. With his back still turned toward me, I grasped each side of his head in my hands. A stomach-churning crackling noise echoed around us as Declan’s neck broke when I twisted his head. He would wake with a headache worse than mine.
Aiden rolled his eyes, the gesture dismissive. “Feelings,” he muttered, barely audible.
I placed a forkful of the roast into my mouth, savoring the deliberate pause as I chewed and swallowed. “Declan, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve spoken about finding the right woman—about marriage, even. Should I be congratulating you?”
Declan’s eyes widened in fear as he glanced at Aiden. “No,” he said quietly, his voice hollow. “My place is here, with Aiden. I only see her every few weeks.”
I dabbed my mouth with my napkin and turned to Aiden. “Surely, you wouldn’t deny your closest ally the joy of marrying his mate? It would set quite the example, wouldn’t it? A union of strength, loyalty—a perfect show for your… council.” I gestured lazily to the table around us, a pointed jab at the absurdity of his gathering.
Aiden’s knuckles turned even whiter around his glass, but he forced a smile. “Declan has never spoken of marriage—not since he left you behind.”
I arched a brow, letting the silence grow before I responded. “You think his heart has changed that much? Or perhaps it’s your influence, Aiden—your need to remind everyone who holds the power. But even you must see the value in allowing such a union. Unless, of course, you’re worried your council might view it as a weakness. That would explain this…” I looked pointedly around the room. “This spectacle.”
Aiden’s jaw clenched, and he dropped his gaze to his plate.Perfect.A perceived weakness—real or otherwise—was something he couldn’t tolerate.
After a long pause, Aiden turned his head toward Declan. “My brother is right, isn’t he? You wish to marry this—human.”
Declan cleared his throat, the sound breaking the heavy quiet that had fallen over the table. He inhaled sharply, his voice firm despite the tension in his body. “Yes, I do.”
Aiden tapped a finger against the table, his expression a mask of calculation. Finally, he waved a hand in annoyance. “Fine. Do it. Quickly. But nothing else changes. You will be at my side when I need you.”
Declan exhaled heavily, the weight of the moment written across his face. “Of course, Aiden.”
He glanced at me, the barest hint of a smile crossing his lips. Gratitude, mixed with disbelief, flickered in his eyes.
Aiden turned back to me, his eyes narrowing. “Satisfied?”
“Perfectly, thank you,” I replied, raising my glass with a faint smile. “Congratulations, Declan. You deserve it.”
Aiden sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now that you have something you desire, back to the Cure. You were just going to tell me all about him, weren’t you, Cormac?” His eyes gleamed with a fervor that bordered on madness.
I took my time standing, allowing the chair to scrape against the floor, the sound a sharp protest of the growing silence. “Actually, no, I’m not.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” demanded Aiden, his eyes flashing with anger. “I haven’t said you could leave.”
“You do a very poor imitation of Father. I’ve indulged you enough.”
His hand curled into a fist on the table, the wineglass trembling with the strength of his grip, though his voice remained steady. “Sit down, Cormac, or I’ll have you killed.”
I leaned forward, placing my hands on the table. I met his eyes and saw the hesitation behind the threat. He needed this charade of power, this illusion of control. Killing me would destroy the fragile web he had spun, and we both knew it. “No, you won’t because as much as you don’t want to admit it, you wish your family was at your side. This entire show was a hope I would stay right here. But I will not engage in your war.”
As I straightened, a hand landed on my shoulder at the same time as I smelled the wolf. The air next to me whistled, and the wolf collapsed. I barely caught sight of the handle of the silver blade that had pierced his heart, killing him.
The others at the table didn’t even gasp. A woman sitting a few seats away fought against her trembling lip as tears gathered in her eyes. She must have been his mate.
Aiden smiled, his elbow still sitting on the table from the blade he had thrown. “Sit down, or the next one goes in your chest.”
My brother’s eyes grew wider as I walked past him to the French doors, opening them and feeling the air rush around us. I took a calculated risk that only two day walkers were in the room, Aiden and Declan. And I knew the wolves' speed was no match for mine.
“Do you think I won’t find the Cure and kill him myself? And your witch.”
“You won’t lay a hand on either of them,” I said calmly, walking into the sunlight. My demeanor hid the pounding of my heart. What would happen if Aiden got to them? I turned my gaze to the crumbled body of the wolf who had only dared to lay a hand on me.
“Declan,” sneered Aiden, holding the hilt of a silver blade toward our friend. “Show my brother back to his room.”
“Certainly, Aiden.” Declan took the knife and hesitated for only a second before he raced toward me, the blade pointed toward my heart.
But that second was all the time needed for the look of understanding that passed between us. At the last moment, I stepped to the side, allowing him to pass me. With his back still turned toward me, I grasped each side of his head in my hands. A stomach-churning crackling noise echoed around us as Declan’s neck broke when I twisted his head. He would wake with a headache worse than mine.
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