Page 17

17

“M ight as well look the part,” I muttered, slipping into a dress for the first time in ages. It was deep crimson silk, and other than the dozens of teeny tiny buttons running down the back, it wasn’t all that different from the robe I’d taken to wearing when wandering the Moon Sanctuary at night, with long sleeves, a low V neckline, and a cinched waist. The skirt pooled around my feet, pretty, but impractical for anything other than fluttering around the manor like a bored Victorian lady or receiving guests. The silk whispered against my skin, making me feel far more elegant than I was.

“Stupid, dumb thing,” I muttered, twisting this way and that as I attempted to fasten the buttons, trying and failing to get a decent view in the standing mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

Javier appeared in the doorway, and I gave up on the buttons, turning my back to him and peering over my shoulder. “This dress was designed by a sadist,” I grumbled.

He huffed a laugh and approached. “I agree.” He trailed his fingertips down my bare back, making me shiver, then started on the buttons. His eyes met mine in the mirror as he worked. “You look like her,” he said quietly, his voice catching. “Like your mother.”

“I’m not her,” I replied, sharper than I’d intended. The weight of her ghost, her throne, her sacrifice and betrayal, pressed down on me.

“No. You are you , my Luna.” His expression softened as he stood unnaturally still, assessing me with predatory intensity. “My queen.” He fastened the top button at the nape of my neck, then gathered my long, dark auburn curls off to one side and brushed a soft kiss under my ear. “Just one final touch,” he said, setting a silver circlet on my head. The lunar phases proudly displayed in gleaming moonstone on my forehead, a perfect match for the ring on my finger.

I raised one hand, touching the waxing crescent moon on the end. “I remember her wearing this.” I turned to him, accepting his offered arm. “Tell me what to expect. Why are they visiting now, and what do they want from us?”

As we walked through the corridors, Javier’s voice was low, meant only for me. “The House of the Stars has always been mercurial in their allegiances. They were willing to attempt to break the curse on the House of the Sun, but Diana refused, making it impossible. They remained neutral during the uprising, neither helping nor hindering the shifters’ attacks on our people.” Bitterness edged his words as he smoothed his thumb over the pulse point on my wrist, a gesture both possessive and reassuring. “But if the Shadow King truly threatens our world, they will need us as much as we need them.”

Through our bond, I felt his controlled anger at their past neutrality, tamped down beneath centuries of political savvy. From down the hall, I sensed Bastian making his way toward us.

He rounded the corner, dressed in formal wear that somehow made him look both more dangerous and more beautiful. He stopped in his tracks, his stare appreciative. “Damn, Soph,” he said, watching me like a kid in a candy shop. “I feel like one of those guys in a teen movie watching his prom date walk down the stairs.” He ran a hand through his dark curls, the only part of him that remained visibly untamed. “You look…” He licked his lips, slow and deliberate, letting me know exactly what he was thinking about doing to me.

“You clean up nice,” I said, stopping in front of him and offering him my lips. He kissed me thoroughly enough to ensure my lips would be rosier and swollen during the impending meeting. I didn’t mind. It gave me something else to think about besides the holy shit panic swarming through my veins at the thought of receiving the Stars’ emissaries. I hadn’t been trained for this. I had no idea what I was doing.

“We’ll be with you the whole time, Soph.” Bastian brushed the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “You’re not alone.”

I closed my eyes, soaking up the sense of Javier at my back and Bastian in front of me. “I know,” I said, smiling gently. I inhaled deeply, then blew out my breath and opened my eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”

The formal reception hall seemed designed to awe and intimidate, with a soaring vaulted ceiling and massive stained-glass windows along one side that transformed the late morning light into a kaleidoscope of colors. Thane and Ash waited on the dais, taking positions on either side of the throne. Their eyes roamed over me as I approached, flanked by Javier and Bastian.

Vampires and their whispers filled the hall, their presence a testament to our House’s renewed strength. Imposing undead guardians stood at attention by every entrance, their silver crescent sigils glowing faintly on one side of their faces. I recognized many of them from our frantic escape from Seattle and the later infiltration of the Sun Keep. At least a dozen more undead vampires were spread throughout the room, alone or in pairs, their stillness unnerving.

Ghosts filled the remaining space, leaving only an aisle open down the center of the room leading to the dais and throne. The collective power of so many undead vampires created a palpable energy in the room, only amplified by the ghosts’ presence.

Wes and Amaya stood with Micah, Isador, and her trio of consorts near the dais, though only the other queen was aware of the ghosts’ presence. Micah looked incredibly uncomfortable but determined not to stick out like a sore thumb, and the three-piece suit that had clearly been tailored for him helped. His eyes met mine, offering encouragement through his obvious nervousness.

Isador looked like she should have been the one on the throne, not me. Her rejuvenated beauty commanded attention, her copper eyes seeming to glow in the filtered light. She inclined her head slightly as I passed, the gesture conveying both respect and subtle caution.

Across the aisle from her, Doris and Helene had taken up positions with their own small retinue of consorts. Youthful twin vampires with identical watchful expressions flanked Doris, while Helene clutched the arm of a more mature consort whose protective stance suggested centuries of devotion.

I offered them smiles, not trusting my voice with the nerves currently lodged in my throat. My legs felt shaky as I stopped in front of the throne and hesitated, unsure what to do. I turned to Javier and whispered, “Do I stand, or…” I looked from Javier to the throne and back.

“You sit,” Javier said, his voice hushed. “You are the High Queen of the House of the Moon. You stand for no one, save for the goddess herself. Once the emissaries arrive and bow, you can stand, if you wish, or even offer to speak with them in the seating area.” He glanced toward the cluster of armchairs and small tables set up off to the side of the dais. “But you don’t need to. If you stand as they approach, they’ll view it as an act of deference, and this must not happen.”

I gulped and sat, my body humming with anxiety. I desperately wanted to sink into myself and hide, but I forced myself to sit tall, back straight, forearms on the armrests. I crossed my ankles, uncrossed them, then crossed them again.

The vampires throughout the hall shifted into a formation that spoke of centuries of court protocol, the ghosts fading out when in the way, only to fade back in elsewhere. Two particularly imposing guardians moved to flank the main doors, their hands resting casually on concealed weapons.

The doors opened, and I jumped, my heart lurching into my throat.

The man who entered first radiated power. Magic crackled around him, making the air thick with the scent of ozone. My consorts tensed in unison, their varied energies bristling. Throughout the hall, the vampires’ collective awareness sharpened to penetrating focus, a ripple of silent readiness sweeping through their ranks, warrior and civilian alike.

“High Queen,” the elemental said, stopping a few steps away from the dais. His bow was perfectly calculated, deep enough to show respect without appearing to grovel. “I am Prince Reiji of the House of the Stars. We come seeking alliance in these troubled times.”

I started to respond, but movement behind him caught my attention. A woman emerged from his shadow—tall and lean, with short black hair and dark eyes that seemed to strip me bare, weighing and measuring me in a single sweep. Unlike Reiji's dramatic entrance, she moved with subdued potency.

“And this is Ren,” Reiji added, his tone suggesting she was an afterthought. “My guard.”

But the way she carried herself spoke of someone too powerful to be dismissed so casually. Her striking features held an androgynous beauty that drew the eye, the sharp angles of her face softened by full lips that seemed perpetually on the verge of a knowing smile. Her stare lingered on Wes's pendant nestled between my breasts, and I fought the urge to curl my fingers around the silver tree of life. When our eyes met, her gaze held curiosity—and secrets.

“Welcome to the Moon Sanctuary,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite the way Ren’s stare and Reiji’s circling magic unsettled me. “We weren’t expecting you until later.”

“The stars suggested haste was prudent.” Reiji’s smile was meant to dazzle. “And who are we to argue with the heavens?”

Ren’s expression flickered—just the slightest tightening around her eyes. I filed that reaction away, adding it to my growing suspicion that “guard” was the least interesting thing about her.

“Who, indeed.” I stood and gestured to the formal seating area set off to the side of the dais. “Please, join me. We have much to discuss.”

As we moved to sit, I watched how Ren positioned herself—not following behind Reiji, but walking alongside him, like an equal. Her movements were liquid grace, reminding me of Bastian in his panther form. When she caught me watching, her dark eyes met mine with an intensity that made my cheeks heat and my skin prickle.

Something flickered in her gaze, a brief, unexpected softness that contradicted her otherwise guarded demeanor. It vanished so quickly I might have imagined it, but the momentary connection left me strangely unsettled in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Javier’s hand brushed my shoulder as he took his position beside my chair, his energy wrapping around me like a shield against Reiji’s persistent magical prodding. His eyes never left our visitors, tracking their every movement even as he appeared relaxed.

Micah, Isador, and her consorts arranged themselves strategically to my right, close enough to signal their allegiance but far enough to give me autonomy. One of Isador’s consorts—an undead vampire gentleman with silver hair—whispered something in her ear, causing her to cast a measured glance at Ren.

Reiji settled into his chair with practiced elegance, Ren taking up a watchful stance behind him. “We’ve heard fascinating rumors,” Reiji said, his voice hitting that exact note of cultured interest I was still struggling to master. His smile turned sharp. “About the rather diverse collection of consorts you’ve chosen to serve you.”

Through our bonds, I felt my immortals bristle at the implied insult. Near the walls, the additional vampire guardians shifted almost imperceptibly, reading the tension in my consorts’ postures and adjusting their own stances in response.

“I prefer to think of them as partners,” I said, keeping my tone pleasant. “Each brings unique strengths to our alliance.”

“As you say.” Reiji’s gaze flickered between my consorts with poorly concealed interest. “Though I notice you’re still short of the traditional seven. Perhaps the House of the Stars could assist with that?”

Was he suggesting he could fill that role? Behind me, Bastian made a sound low in his throat, and I felt Javier’s cold fury through our bond. Throughout the hall, the temperature seemed to drop as dozens of vampire eyes focused with predatory intensity on the elemental prince.

Before I could tell Reiji exactly where he could stick that suggestion, Ren made a soft sound—not quite a snort, but close enough to draw Reiji’s attention. Ren moved around from behind Reiji’s chair and sat, their eyes meeting in what seemed like a silent argument.

“What my colleague means,” Ren said, her voice low and rich, “is that we seek true, lasting alliance, not merely political maneuvering.” Her dark eyes met mine. “The shadow grows stronger. We all feel it.”

The direct acknowledgment of the threat sent a chill down my spine. My vision of the Shadow King’s invasion flashed through my mind—blood and fire and endless darkness consuming everything I loved. Through our connection, I felt my consorts’ attention sharpen.

“Tell me what you know,” I said, dropping the diplomatic facade. Screw politics—if they had information about the shadow, I needed to hear it.

Reiji’s smile faltered slightly, but Ren’s expression remained steady as she held my gaze.

“The shadow seeks gaps in the barrier between realms,” Ren said, her voice dropping lower. “Places where the barrier has grown thin.”

Reiji’s magic pulsed with irritation, but Ren seemed utterly immune to his attempts to silence her. “The House of the Stars has preserved certain records,” Reiji interjected smoothly, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Prophecies that speak of a High Queen who will either save or destroy us all. Though they’re frustratingly vague about which outcome is more likely.”

My mouth went dry. “Prophecies can be misinterpreted,” I said, remembering how my own visions were, at best, confusing, and at worst, utterly indecipherable. “Or misunderstood entirely.”

“True.” Ren’s voice carried a weight that drew all eyes to her. “But the gathering darkness is harder to misinterpret. It hungers.” Her gaze flickered to the window, where storm clouds loomed on the horizon. “And it remembers the taste of our world.”

As she spoke, her formal mask slipped just slightly, and I glimpsed genuine concern beneath her calculated exterior. Her eyes held mine a moment longer than necessary, an unspoken acknowledgment passing between us—we both understood what was at stake, perhaps more clearly than those around us. I couldn't quite place why, but something about her resonated with me on a level that transcended diplomatic posturing.

The careful game of politics suddenly felt hollow compared to the threat we faced—not merely the House of the Moon or the Stars, but the world . “No more riddles. Tell me your prophecy, and I’ll tell you mine.”

Ren’s lips curved slightly, but her eyes remained serious. “The Shadow King isn’t just trying to break through,” she said, ignoring Reiji’s sharp look. “He’s already begun. Each breach weakens the barriers further.”

“How long?” I asked, impressing myself with the steadiness of my voice.

“Weeks,” Reiji said smoothly, clearly not wanting to be left out. “Perhaps months if we’re fortunate. The stars grow darker each night.” His smile grew teeth. “Though I suspect you’ve seen this yourself, assuming Selene has blessed you with any visions.” A test.

“The visions show possibilities,” I said carefully. “Not certainties.”

“Truly? Is that how yours work?” Ren’s dark eyes met mine, and my gut told me her question was genuine. Her brows drew together. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s not the same for you?” I asked, leaning forward.

Ren shook her head. “We have prophecies, not visions.”

I waved a hand, dismissing the difference. “What does your prophecy say, exactly?”

Ren and Reiji exchanged a look. “Don’t let me stop you now,” Reiji said, gesturing for Ren to continue.

Ren stared at him for a moment longer, then returned her focus to me. “Our prophecy is long and tedious, but one verse is crystal clear:

“When the Shadow King stirs in his endless hunger,

The last High Queen must seek counsel beyond mortality’s veil.

Into her circle must come one born of stars,

Completing the seven bonds that strengthen her light.

The departed queens shall rise at her calling,

Silver wisdom from beyond the grave guiding her hand.

What was broken by necessity shall be mended through sacrifice.”

Anger heated my blood. Not at Ren. Not even at Reiji, though it was clear he came here to become the “one born of stars” to join my harem. I was mad as hell at yet another twist of fate forcing me to do something I didn’t want to do for the sake of survival. I was so damn tired of sacrificing. Hadn’t I given enough? Couldn’t I at least choose who would fill the remaining two spots in my harem? Or was this yet another thing to be taken from me?

Not trusting myself to keep a civil tongue, I stood abruptly and stalked out of the reception hall, my silk skirt fluttering around my feet, my consorts trailing behind me.

I would do what had to be done to stop the Shadow King. To protect my people. To protect my son.

But that didn’t mean I had to like it.