Page 22 of Blood Marked
TWENTY-TWO
KAEL
T he Great Summit hadn’t been held in six years.
Not since the last time blood had been spilled over diplomacy.
Now, under the weight of assassinations, prophecy, and power plays, it had been called again.
Kael hated every second of it.
He stood in the marbled rotunda of House Fenrir’s High Hall, flanked by his guards, crownless and unarmored, but still every inch the heir. His presence wasn’t for show—it was warning.
Let the other heirs come. Let them posture. He’d bleed anyone who thought they could lay claim to what was his.
Especially her.
Selene stood to his right, her cloak fur-lined, her chin high. She didn’t cling. Didn’t cower. She was composed steel wrapped in silk, and it made his chest ache with something damn near reverence.
He hadn’t told her how tightly he’d held her name in his dreams the night before.
He wouldn’t. Not yet.
The first to arrive was Lucien Umbraclaw—tall, lean, with black hair and a smile like a snake stretching in the sun. His eyes were silver, unreadable.
He walked like he owned the shadows, dressed in layered obsidian leathers, his House sigil burned into the shoulder of his cloak.
“Kael,” he drawled, bowing with a mockery of grace. “Still brooding, I see.”
Kael didn’t blink. “Still breathing, I see. Where’s your mother?”
“The Queen decided it was time I attend these alone while she matters some delicate issues at our own court,” the panther prince answered vaguely.
Lucien laughed. “For now.”
Selene tilted her head, studying him. Lucien’s gaze flicked to her, and his smile widened.
“And you must be the famed Bond.”
Kael growled low under his breath. “Careful, Lucien.”
“Oh, come now. I’m being charming .”
“She has a name,” Kael said sharply.
Lucien’s eyes gleamed. “I imagine she has many .”
Selene stepped forward before Kael could speak again.
“Selene Morwen,” she said smoothly. “Daughter of Ambassador Elias Morwen. Not a Bond. Not a conquest. Try again.”
Lucien’s lips parted slightly, like he hadn’t expected venom from the girl the court had labeled delicate.
Kael fought a grin.
Gods, she was perfect.
Next came Calder Grimhart.
Grimhart had been a presence once already—kind, hawk-eyed though. His pale hair was braided back tight, jaw perpetually clenched, much more professional and wound up then the last time Kael had seen him.
He bowed stiffly to Kael.
“Grimhart,” Kael said.
“Fenrir,” Calder replied.
They didn’t shake hands.
They never did.
Calder turned to Selene. “Lady Morwen.”
She gave him a nod. “We’ve met.”
“Yes,” he said. “It was more of a pleasure then than this is now, I’m sure.” He nodded once more and headed back to where his father stood, the King of the Bear Shifters.
Last came Seraphine Drakar, and the entire hall seemed to lean toward her without realizing it.
She moved like fire—controlled, commanding, dangerous. Long dark braids laced with golden thread hung down her back, and her crimson eyes flicked over everyone like she was already deciding where to strike.
She smiled at Kael, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Awe, ever the sullen type,” she said, echoing Lucien’s earlier comment.
“Still terrifying,” he replied.
That earned the smallest smile from her. Her gaze moved to Selene—and stayed.
“You’re the girl everyone wants dead,” Seraphine said, voice light.
Selene met it head-on. “And yet, I keep disappointing them.”
Kael turned to hide his grin.
Seraphine laughed. “I like you already.”
The High Priestess finally arrived, flanked by Fenrir’s inner court, and the summit began.
Talk of territory. Threats near Veilbreak. Border raids. Peace treaties wearing thin.
Kael listened with half an ear, his senses tuned to every breath Selene took beside him. She didn’t speak unless spoken to, but when she did—gods, she owned the space.
Lucien smirked. Calder glowered, seeming ot be more distracted than usual. Seraphine watched.
She was winning allies, and she didn’t even realize it.
But Kael did.
Hours later, the summit paused for the ceremonial offering—a token gesture of peace between Houses.
Kael stepped away from the cluster, finally able to breathe.
Selene followed.
“Did I embarrass you?” she asked, her voice a little too even.
Kael turned to her, gaze dark. “You made Lucien shut up. That’s practically a miracle.”
She smiled, slow and soft.
And he wanted to kiss her so badly it ached. But not here. Not yet.