Page 21 of The Vampire Court

Once the song ends, Alaric takes my hand and leads me out to the terrace. The moon is bright and hangs heavy in the sky. But out here, the stars seem to shine brighter than usual against the solid wall of black made by the Sunfall mountains. The cold night air sends a shiver racing over my skin.

He drops my hand and turns on me, lowering his face to mine. His lips twist into a sneer. “What have you been doing? You smell like wolf.”

I blink at the harshness of his accusing words. He’s acting as if I did something wrong. These are his first words since he left me in his rooms and ignored me for the past hour. I take the hurt and turn it into anger.

“How dare you,” I bite out. “You spent the last few hours at the queen’s side, pretending I don’t exist. And I was supposed to do what? Stand by myself, alone, in a room full of creatures that would kill me if given half a chance?” My words hitch in my throat. “Oliver was there for me when…” I trail off, at a loss for words. I don’t even know where to start.

I glance inside the ballroom. Vampires dance, their humans doting over them like faithful pets.

Alaric’s knuckles graze the side of my face. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I pull in a breath. His deep blue irises threaten to drown me in their unending depths. He leans in. My heart hammers against my ribs as I wait for the feel of his lips on mine.

“Dance with me,” he says.

My eyes snap open. Alaric waits expectantly for my reply. My mouth is dry, my tongue heavy. Unable to form words, I nod. He smiles and takes my hand, entwining his fingers with mine.

“Am I interrupting something?” Oliver asks, appearing in the doorway.

Alaric and I draw back but don’t let go of each other. Still, the space between us feels cold. Empty.

He snarls at the shifter. Reflexively, I squeeze his hand. Oliver’s gaze drops, observing the gesture.

“I have traveled here to talk to you about the demon problem.”

Alaric cuts a hand through the air. “I can do nothing for you until we return to Windbury. You know that.”

He tugs on my hand and moves to walk past Oliver.

“That’s just it, Mr. Devereaux. Once you and your guests left, the demon issue vanished. It’s as if it never happened.”

We still, taking in the meaning of his words.

“Whatever—whoever—was responsible for the demon destroying the lands was staying with you.”

“Impossible,” Alaric says. “It was a problem before they arrived.”

Oliver shrugs. “It was. The attacks were weak and sloppy. It wasn’t until they arrived that the demon grew in strength. Do with that information as you will.” Oliver turns to me and nods. “My offer still stands. I’ll be here one more day before I leave. You have until then.”

“I don’t need time to think,” I say. “I’m sorry, but no.”

Oliver bows to me then turns on his heel and leaves us.

“What offer?” Alaric asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“That didn’t sound like nothing.”

I glance up at him from the corner of my eyes. “It was ridiculous, and I would never accept.”

The muscle in his jaw ticks. Then his eyes darken, and he goes perfectly still as understanding dawns on him.

“I’m not interested in his offer,” I reiterate more firmly this time.

After a long moment, the tension eases from his shoulders, and to my relief, he leads me back inside.

Chapter Eight