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I bit down the Why? that climbed up my throat. I doubt he’d answer. I also doubted I really wanted to know.

I didn’t move at first and the Lord of Dusk didn’t climb in to pull me out either. Odd. The other vampire warriors in Corraidin had no qualms forcing people into the transport wagons, but this Lord of Dusk and his cheerful Dawn companion had surrounded me like an honor guard and left me to enter of my own volition.

Now it seems I was to exit on my own, as well.

I started forward, ignoring the roar of blood in my ears and the cramps in my belly. While they didn’t force me, it wasn’t like I had a choice. No human in the Azarasian Impire did.

The Lord of Dusk raised a hand for me. Like a gentleman. Could that be all this was? But no, vampires didn’t think of humans that way. We were livestock.

There was something else going on here. A volunteer. It only took a month. What did the Dawn vampire mean by that? Why did the Azarasians need a volunteer?

Another question I was sure I wouldn’t like the answer to.

Teeth clenched, I took the Lord of Dusk’s hand. The warmth of his skin clashed with the chill of his four silver rune-carved rings. A spark shot through my arm, but I ignored it. If the vampire felt it, he ignored it as well.

I jumped from the cart and landed on the sand. I nearly pitched forward as my legs went weak from the pain, but the Lord of Dusk’s grip on me tightened, righting my balance. My other hand went to that wide chest of its own volition, using him like a wall to hold me up. A warm, solid wall of flesh, toned to perfection from centuries of wielding that massive axe on his back.

He cleared his throat. I jerked away from him, gaze flickering to him and then down again. The edge of his lip twitched ever so slightly.

“I would normally remove the hand of someone who touched me without permission. Especially if they’d made eye contact multiple times in the hours before.” He brushed his knuckles along my jaw and tilted my head until I met that unyielding silver gaze again. I shuddered at the touch. “But staring isn’t always a challenge. It can be an invitation. Which is yours, Miss Halloran?”

My mouth went dry. Fuck. “Neither?”

“Is that so?”

I don’t know why I did it, but I raised my chin ever so slightly. Obstinately. Everything in me screamed to back down, but I didn’t hear it through the exhaustion and pain. “It was neither.”

The twitch of his lip grew into a half-smirk. “A challenge and an invitation? Intriguing.”

“It—no, that’s not—”

Another scream split the air, cut off just as quickly. I straightened. The Lord of Dusk didn’t react, but a callous chill overtook his expression at the sound. He turned on his heels. “Come, Miss Halloran.”

I glanced around. Two unfamiliar vampire warriors straightened from where they leaned against the side of the empty wagon next to mine. Had they been there this entire time? I hadn’t even noticed them.

Their luminous gazes traced down my body like I was nothing more than a walking meal. Every instinct in me screamed. I scurried after the Lord of Dusk to the pounding drumbeat of my heart.

We weaved between the rows of wagons. Most of the Maboni had been unloaded and ushered toward the dock but some remained in their seats. They watched and frowned as I passed, the only human moving freely. I ducked my head, examining the glittering sand like it was a great work of art.

When gilded, black boots entered my vision, I halted a second before I crashed into a hard body. My gaze ricocheted past a red cloak and a familiar wicked smile into bright golden eyes noticeably lined with shadows.

Fucker. Two demonborn vampires? The Lord of Dawn’s black rim was almost imperceptibly thinner than his soulbound’s but it was still there.

Like all the vampires on the beach, the Lord of Dawn had lowered his hood. Pale blond hair brushed his shoulders, a slight wave to the artfully messy strands. His skin was a smooth, flawless ivory. He had a strong jawline and cheekbones sharp enough to cut, but there was something softer to his face compared to his soulbond. He’d fit perfectly with the godstars in the murals adorning the Church walls. Everything about him screamed gentle divinity—except for those eyes.

The playful, mischievous spark was that of a predator, like a cat toying with its food.

I stepped back instantly.

The beautiful lord circled to my side, the rubies of his earrings and rings twinkling in the sunlight. His cloak differed from the standard army issue his counterpart wore, the faintest hint of gold thread weaved into the fabric. Real gold unlike the patriarch’s.

His thumbs looped around the gilded hilts of his daggers at his hips. “Enjoy the ride?”

“Uh...” When I licked my lips, those glowing eyes followed the movement. “I guess?”

The Lord of Dawn barked out a laugh. “You guess?”

I gaped for a minute before shrugging. I’d had a terrible time, but it didn’t seem wise to tell my new masters that. Make that new master. The Lord of Dusk had continued on toward the dock near the line of Maboni.

“You’re going to love this, then.” The Lord of Dawn offered out his arm, like he was escorting me to a dance and not my death.

“I doubt that,” I murmured under my breath, but looped my arm around his.

“You got me there.”

My heart stuttered. I couldn’t tell from what—his nefarious reply, his gorgeous grin, or his rock-solid arm under hardened leather.

We crossed the beach toward the Lord of Dusk. My anxiety and pain spiked the closer we got to the water’s edge. I tried not to flinch, but I couldn’t stop my reaction in time.

The Lord of Dawn halted and twisted to look down at me. “You’re in pain.”

It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with, my lord.”

“Jules.”

“What?”

“That’s my name.”

I stared, trying not to gape. “Why?”

His smile widened. “Why is my name Jules? I believe my father named me, may he suffer for all eternity.”

“No, I mean... why are you telling me your name?”

He paused for a moment, almost like he wasn’t sure, but then shrugged. “I felt like it. Just like I feel like doing this.”

The Lord of Dawn—Jules—raised his hand. Shadows wafted from his fingers, flickering between solid and incorporeal. With a quick flick in the air, he drew a small pattern in the air above my chest. The rune flared into life, into my soul. Soothe . A warm heat spread through me.

I straightened slowly. The pain was... gone. Completely. My nausea and exhaustion still lingered, but without the agony, I could manage.

I pressed a hand to my belly. How long had it been since I hadn’t hurt nearly every other day? Months, at least. Within a blink, a vampire had eliminated the ache that plagued me for over a decade.

Emotion welled up within me, but I shoved it down. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Anything for our volunteer.”

There it was again, dangled in front of me. Volunteer. What exactly had I gotten myself into?

More importantly, did I really want to know?

“How long will the rune last?”

“A couple hours.”

So it wasn’t a permanent fix. But a couple of hours without pain was better than nothing. I tried to stop my expression from falling, but I obviously wasn’t successful.

Jules arched an eyebrow. “Are you expecting the pain to return?”

“It always returns.” And I didn’t want to talk about it, not with my vampire captor. “What exactly did I volunteer for?”

Jules didn’t respond for a moment, but his frown quickly became a smile. “The harvest. It only happened a couple of hours ago, lovely.”

I narrowed my eyes, but quickly washed away the expression. If I wasn’t murdered in the next couple of days, I’d need to learn to control that. There was clearly something wrong with these vampire lords if they were letting me talk and stare.

There was clearly something wrong with me since I continued to do so. “I didn’t forget. What else did I volunteer—?”

Another scream ripped through the air, this time much closer. My head twisted toward the sound. The Lord of Dusk waited a couple feet away, but a quick glance to my left revealed the front of the line.

A Maboni man bent over a waist-high stone, his arms splayed, his trembling hands pressed against the rough, bloodstained surface. At his side, a vampire warrior blocked part of my view. The man’s scream had stopped quickly like all the others, but not because his pain had stopped. His face was turned toward me, his skin flushed and sweating. He thrashed weakly, but neither of his feet left the ground nor did his hands raise from the stone. A rune held him still, I was sure of it. But what were they—

The warrior shuffled to the side, and I had my answer.

With sharpened black claws, the warrior carved a runespell into his skin. The brand every Maboni received at birth was gone from the back of his neck, shadows slicing into smooth flesh. I spun away, my nausea flaring and not because of my illness, but the Lords of Dusk and Dawn stood to my right, watching my every reaction.

For the first time today, I couldn’t bear to meet their eyes.

Reluctantly, I twisted back toward the man and the line of Maboni behind him. The man’s mouth was open, his eyes bulged in a silent scream. Blood gushed down his neck, most of it devoured by the vampire’s runespell and shadows, but stray droplets escaped. They spattered against the stone, deepening the red stain across its surface.

At the sight of all that blood, a man split from the line and made a beeline for the water. He couldn’t outrun or out-swim a vampire, but his terror didn’t care.

No one moved to chase him. The warriors milling across the beach followed him with their gazes and nothing more. Why didn’t they—?

His foot touched the water. At his neck, his brand flared, the black lines becoming twisting shadows that pulsed through his spine. Brand. Track. Boundary. Retribute. The final rune burned brighter than the rest.

His entire body seized like a shot of lightning coursed through his veins.

He flopped down into the water and didn’t move again.

Corpses tended to do that.

I stared. Stared. Stared. Gentle waves brushed against his body.

His dead body.

Stars, I was going to hurl and scream. Maybe at the same time. I resisted the urge to claw at my nape. The brand at the base of my spine marked me for exactly what I was—one of the Azarasian herd.

I hadn’t known it could kill me.

I’d assumed Retribute meant pain, not death.

I swallowed hard. “I thought the brand just stopped you from leaving.”

“It did stop him from leaving,” the Lord of Dusk said simply.

I stared, jaw agape.

A pair of warriors headed for the corpse, but the vampire near the runestone stepped away, drawing my attention. The runespell on the human’s neck flared suddenly. The shadows drank up the blood as the magic activated. I tried to peek, but I didn’t have the right angle to read the runes.

“Stand,” the warrior commanded.

The man pushed from the stone. There was a bit of resistance as the shadowy rune on the rock’s surface held tight. Anchor . When the rune dimmed, he finally broke free.

“Walk to the end of the dock and wait for further instruction,” the warrior said in a bored voice, already turning to the front of the line and his next victim.

Without hesitation, the Maboni man marched for the dock. His eyes flickered around, a wild panic in his gaze, but it didn’t show in the way he moved—

Oh. Oh, no.

“What does the new runespell do?” I asked softly, suddenly afraid of what I suspected was true.

“Beyond extending your range to the entire Azarasian Impire?” Jules ran a hand through his blond hair. “It’s for obedience, mostly.”

My insides went cold. The thrall runespell. Karra hadn’t worn it as a witch, but humans in service to the vampires and demons of Azaras’s court had. The Azarasians called their servants thralls, but I hadn’t known for certain if they were magically bound.

I’d naively hoped we wouldn’t be.

The obedience wasn’t even the worst part of the spell. Through a loyalty rune, it made thralls want to please their masters. And if it was sealed at the end, it couldn’t be removed as long as the spell remained powered.

And the Azarasian Impire had power to spare.

“You won’t be receiving a thrall runespell,” the Lord of Dusk said.

I jolted, turning to him with wide eyes. “Why not?”

“You’re our volunteer,” he said. “We’ll need to remove your brand runespell instead.”

That didn’t answer my question. My stomach dropped.

Jules wiggled his ruby-ringed finger toward me. “Move your hair.”

Hesitantly, I pulled the long braid over my left shoulder, baring my brand runespell... and the side of my neck.

Both vampires’ eyes dropped to that pale expanse of flesh over my pulse. Everything within me stiffened. I didn’t even jump when the next of the Maboni screamed. I had frozen, my heart racing in the blind terror of prey caught in the predator’s jaw.

Jules didn’t touch me, but I felt the warmth of his skin as he waved his shadowed finger in some pattern over my brand. The heat of magic brushed my nape a moment later.

“There.” Jules pulled back. “Now you’re one of the few humans in all the Impire unmarked by a brand or thrall runespell.”

I ran my fingertips up my spine. The runes hadn’t even left a mark, the skin smooth like the brand had never existed. “Lucky me.”

Jules flashed me a bright grin before turning toward his soulbound. “I don’t think they need supervision, Luc. They’ve only done this quarterly for nearly four hundred years.”

The Lord of Dusk—Luc, I assumed—turned toward me. “Tristan?”

Tristan? Who was—

A gold-eyed vampire with chestnut-brown hair flashed into existence beside me. I almost shrieked. Almost. This warrior wore the standard dark leathers, his cloak the red of Dawn, but a gold insignia in the center of his chest showed the Azarasian eight-pointed star. Perhaps he was a higher rank than the others on the beach.

The vampire dropped into a quick bow, ignoring me. “Yes, Imperator?”

Imperator? I hadn’t heard that title before, but something about the word was strong and imposing. Maybe these vampires weren’t only lords.

The Azarasians didn’t provide any books on their government or military formation—or any government of military formation. I knew nothing about titles and hierarchy beyond what I’d witnessed from the vampires stationed in Mabon or inferred from The Soulborne Queen .

“Get another mage down here. I want to leave within the hour.”

“Yes, Imperator.” The vampire flashed out of sight, moving at a speed too quick for my eyes.

An hour.

A single hour.

In one hour, I’d never see my homeland again.