Page 56

The hooves of a dozen hellsteeds cracked like thunder across the stone roadways leading to Montaurère’s peak. Bright, curious eyes watched from windows, stoops, terraces, and patios, all bustling with activity even this late into the night. They had watched us race from the city mere hours ago. What rumors and gossip would swirl through our courts tomorrow, first at our quick departure and then at our bloody return, unconscious witches thrown over our saddles?

Jules had a hand fisted in the torn fabric of Exalted Morrena’s gown, the witch slung over Cala’s back like a sack of grain. He didn’t glance at her as she bounced against the hellsteed’s flank with every jolt of movement. A spike of delight flared through our bond with each smack. If he hadn’t been pulsing his weakened magic into the sleeping rune writhing on her skin, she would surely be awake and screaming. Like all our cargo would be.

Except for mine.

My arms tensed around our unconscious bride cradled in my arms, her naked, blood-splattered body wrapped in a cloak. After our rough claiming and feeding, she had melted into me with a sigh and fallen asleep instantly. As if I were the safest place in the world.

Even now, jostled by the hellsteed’s steady canter, she didn’t stir. Only once had she neared the surface, when Jules moved away to mount his own steed. She had reached out, seeking the touch of the man who carried the other third of our soul. It was almost enough to get Jules to stop, but he had shaken off the bond’s influence.

I stared down at Nessa, tracing the shape of her plump lips, the curve of her soft cheeks, the shadow of her lashes against the pale peach of her skin. I had found her comely and pleasing to look at that first day we met only two short weeks ago.

Now I was enchanted, intoxicated, bewitched.

Which was only fitting, given she was, in fact, a witch.

A witch in league with Allegra Isaura herself.

That deep anger rolling in my chest surged to the surface. It hadn’t faded since we learned the awful truth earlier today, but the blocking rune on our bond had made it inconsequential in comparison. Now that the rune was gone and our wife reclaimed, there was nothing standing in the rage’s way.

Allegra fucking Isaura.

Stars, I’d kill that witch when I found her. I had vowed as much long ago, after she arranged the massacre at Duskfell. Bodies strewn across the hallways, vampires and thralls torn apart and their flesh devoured, Corinne among them—

I gave my head a sharp shake. Now was not the time to remember that night.

Jules had nearly caught Allegra once, months after our army seized Isaura’s capital. They had both limped away from the fight clinging to their lives. In the years since, we hadn’t encountered her once, but she still lived, even now. Morrena’s failed surrender five days ago had proved that much. If Allegra was dead, Morrena’s allegiance runespell would’ve faded, allowing us to finally cast a thrall runespell on the Isaurans.

But Allegra hadn’t spent her centuries merely hiding—she’d spent them planning.

And now, three hundred years later, she had finally put her plan into action.

Whatever it entailed.

“If you frown any harder, you might make the expression permanent,” Jules said, glancing my way as we finally turned into Imperium Square before Dawnspear’s rose-covered wall.

My soulbound’s words had the intended effect. My scowl sharpened into a glare. It was a look that made most vampires drop to their knees to beg for mercy, but Jules only rolled his eyes.

“You’ve never doubted yourself before, Luc. Don’t start now. Whatever Allegra has planned, we will survive and prevail, as we always have.”

“Will we? She’s already succeeded in the first part of her plan,” I grumbled with a pointed look at our bride.

Jules shrugged. “Sure, but we’ve survived and prevailed, have we not?”

I shot him a dry look. “Our bride nearly escaped us a mere hour ago, Julien.”

“But she didn’t,” he said. “And she won’t, even if she tries again.”

“Allegra or our bride?”

“Both.” His gaze drifted to Nessa. “Stars, we might even benefit from that bitch of a witch’s plan.”

I watched his eyes trace the lines of her throat, her shoulders, her chest. Almost… tenderly. His quiet yearning rippled through the bond. It was an emotion I rarely glimpsed on my soulbound’s starstouched face. Jules was wild abandon and wicked glee, no part of him gentle. His lovers either feared him or bored him—or both. And with good reason, since he toyed with them like a cat with a mouse, the hunter in him too vicious to suppress even around other vampires.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want.

Didn’t crave.

Didn’t covet.

He’d never been anything but happy for me when I had Corinne, but his envy had burned beneath his smile. It was always brief, always followed by that familiar shadow of grim acceptance, as if what he wanted most would always be out of reach. The few times those fears crept too close, he simply shut it all off.

My Butcher didn’t believe himself capable of love.

But now we were heartmates, tied together by the little witch in my arms. And there was only one path for heartmates. I had accepted it days ago, but Jules had done more than accept. He had celebrated.

He finally had what he wanted, and it was inevitable.

“You always wanted a heartmate,” I murmured.

“I did.” His golden gaze flashed to me. “I always wanted you, too.”

I arched a brow. “You had me.”

“Did I?”

The words were quiet. Uncharacteristically soft. The Sun Gate loomed ahead, its massive doors already swinging open. Silence stretched between us as we passed through.

How could he question us? Of course he’d had me. We had been like brothers from birth, lovers for nearly as long, like all soulbound Azarasians. But if he had to ask—if that doubt had lingered for centuries—then he hadn’t known it.

And that was my fault.

I had always been careful with emotion. Always controlled. Always distant. Emotion was weakness, something my enemies could use against me. Something Marisol had used against me, over and over again, when we were young. Sometimes, I wished my inherited godcurse were as useful as Jules’s. I’d numb it all, quieting the storm beneath my skin and matching the ice I wore on the surface.

But I had no such escape.

I inhaled slowly, then exhaled. “You have me now.”

“And we have her.” Jules let a small smile play over his lips, his joy warming my chest. “Do you intend to let Allegra Isaura take us from you?”

My rage flared again, sharp and unyielding. My grip on Nessa tightened. “No,” I nearly growled the word. “Never.”

Jules chuckled. “There’s the Lucero Azaras I know and love. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, darling.”