Darkfell vampire clan bo.., p.78
Darkfell Vampire Clan Boxset, page 78
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and I lasered in on that arrogant little smirk. My rage ramped up higher, my neck growing hot. “In fact, I’d love to eradicate you from the earth and never have to look at your arrogant face again.”
“That, I'm afraid, is something that you cannot do, Seraphina.”
My father stepped out of the doorway of the kitchen. Behind him there was a cup of tea on the counter, steam rising, a half-eaten sandwich beside it.
“Oh my God.” I was already moving toward him and threw myself into his bear hug. “Are you okay? Are you… you? I can see your… your eyes are fine again….” I pulled back, searching his face for signs of compulsion or possession. I found none. “But… I don't understand.”
“He’s not compelling me. I've been myself ever since Caine transported me out of that clearing.”
“But Newcastle said…”
Caine had been telling the truth?
Sebastian chuckled. “I should’ve known that was the first place you’d go. Newcastle was scared shitless of Caine and made the assumption that I was under his power. In reality, I just wanted to get him off the streets. We did wipe his memories before we left, to prevent him from talking to the wrong people.”
Immediately, my father’s gaze slid over to Deston, and his face darkened. Bad blood. Winston mentioned the rift between them, and I briefly wondered how bad it could possibly be.
“Caine said he went hunting? You allowed this?” I asked softly. “You know there’s about a hundred reasons we can’t go around killing humans, Sebastian.”
My father chuckled darkly, and I pulled out of his embrace. “I educated him in the questionable morals of drug dealers, so the only fallout will be less meth on the streets.”
“But if you’re not being compelled, why didn't you get away? Why are you helping him?” It didn’t escape me that Caine watched us intently, taking in every single word.
“My question exactly.” Deston snarled. “What the fuck are you doing, Blackwell? Seraphina is your daughter, you owe her your loyalty, not this unnatural creature.”
“Watch how you talk about the sire of our race, de Rayne. And go fuck yourself. I liked you far better when Katarina had you under your thumb.”
“Sebastian?” I pulled away and dropped my arms to my sides. “What the hell was that?”
“That was me, telling a traitor to go fuck off.” There was so much venom in his voice I took a step back. He’d been around Deston before and never had I seen this level of hatred. Tension, sure, but nothing that felt this close to violence.
“Should have done this before, in truth. You deserve to die, you bloodless scum.”
When I looked over, Caine's smirk had turned into a full-blown smile as he followed their escalating argument, pleasure blooming on his face.
“He’s my mate, Sebastian. He saved me from Katarina, who would have killed me.” My voice was hard as I reminded my father, stepping to Deston’s side and laying my hand on his shoulder. Beneath my touch, my mate vibrated with restrained anger, his eyes fixed on Sebastian. “You will show Deston the respect he deserves.”
Instead of looking to me, Sebastian’s knowing gaze slid over to Caine.
That’s when I should have walked away. I should have let Deston dematerialize me out of there, left my father to his choice, and taken my men to organize our stand against Caine.
But I didn’t. Because I had to stay and win an argument, because deep within myself, I couldn’t allow anyone—not even my father—to speak ill of my mate.
That was my mistake.
Loving someone so much, I just had to get in the last word.
39
SERAPHINA
The air changed in the kitchen, and Caine rounded the island to put his chin in one hand, as if he was getting ready for a show.
“Tell them what you told me,” Sebastian said wickedly. “Tell them what this traitor has been hiding, all this time.”
I couldn't quite decipher Caine's expression when he focused on Deston. It was a combination of cunning and malevolence, and a hole opened up in the pit of my stomach. Unease spread through me as he faced Luthor and Cyrus.
“Lord de Rayne”—Caine bowed mockingly—“is directly responsible for Queen Lyra’s death. Vane Carpathian bribed him to look the other way on the night of the coup. If he was present that night, if he had not betrayed you, Lyra would still be alive today.”
Luthor and Cyrus stood stunned, while Deston’s arm slipped from my waist, his anger turning to shock. Through the bond, I sensed Luthor and Cyrus’s emotions clearly. Disbelief, pain, rage, then a deep-seated need for revenge. On instinct, I stepped between them before Deston set me away.
“No, mon amour, it is too late for that. You should leave,” he urged softly, glancing at Caine, his expression knowing. “There will be no good ending to this.”
“I’m not leaving anyone.” I whirled to Luthor and Cyrus, searching their stricken faces. “He wasn’t bribed. He only left to save his family. His sisters.”
“You knew?” Cyrus’s voice was stone cold. “You knew my cousin betrayed Lyra and caused her death? You knew the reason we were imprisoned that whole time and you never said a word?”
My mouth worked, but nothing came out. He was right. Cyrus was right, and I’d made a mistake, keeping this from them.
Undiluted hatred sharpened Cyrus’s voice. “Do you know what I dream about? Every time I close my eyes, I'm back in that throne room, watching Vane Carpathian slit Lyra’s throat. Having a sword driven through my skull, listening to Luthor’s death rattle.”
Cyrus’s beautiful face twisted into something ugly as he hissed at Deston. “I've defended you these past months. Stuck up for you. Gave people my word that you would never hurt Seraphina, that you’d changed.”
“Perhaps all those years with Katarina rubbed off,” Cyrus said spitefully. “You're no different from her. Never have been, never will be.” He stepped toward us, but Luthor stopped him with an arm across his chest.
“You're not my cousin. You are not my friend. You are nothing to me. Rot in hell for all I care.”
Deston’s face changed, and through our bond… a heart wrenching pain that made me reach out and wrap my arms around him.
“You're seriously hugging this piece of shit traitor that got Lyra killed?” Luthor's voice was carefully controlled, a sure sign of just how angry he was. Disgust was written all over his face, his cold eyes burning with hatred.
“I knew,” I told them both, feeling sick. “Yes, Deston broke his word and wasn’t there that night. But his family’s lives were in danger.” I sucked in a breath. “I couldn't say I wouldn't have made the same decision if it was your lives we were talking about. Or Mom. Or Gram.”
Their faces only grew colder, the bond between us growing chilly.
“Deston made a bad decision. That night, he meant to release his family and make it back to the ball in time, but he was too late. He didn't know what the Carpathians were up to, only that his family's lives hung in the balance.”
My father snorted. “You’ve told her so many lies, she actually believes you’re the hero.” Sebastian scoffed, and my anger went supernova.
“No, I don't think he's the good guy. I think he made a mistake. I think there's a big difference between overtly plotting to kill a queen and making the decision to save your family. Trust me, I should know. I’ve been the target of enough plots lately.”
I looked at my men wildly. There was a malevolence creeping through our bond, hatred turning our connections to acid, the longer Luthor and Cyrus stared at Deston. I entreated them to please, please, let’s just get out of here so we can sort this out, but it was like banging my fists against a wall. They didn’t hear me.
Or they didn’t want to.
“De Rayne killed my family. Your aunt and uncle. Your cousins. Killed them and never looked back. This bastard left a hole in my life, and I'm not setting foot in the palace until he’s gone,” Sebastian insisted, eyeing Deston with disdain. “There will come a time, Seraphina, when you'll realize he’s lied to you all along.”
That couldn’t be true. It couldn’t.
“And as a reminder,” Luthor hissed. “The Carpathians killed my entire family, including my three sisters. I lost everything that day. Everything. My family, my Queen, and my freedom.”
Deston’s jaw worked, but he remained silent because, really, how could he defend himself? Nothing Sebastian said was a lie—just the subtly shaded truth—told in a way to be completely incriminating.
“And now, I know who was responsible. Don’t think you’ll wriggle out of this, Deston.” Luthor’s cold smile promised pain and suffering, as did the silken threat in his voice. Deston stiffened, darkness flaring in his eyes.
I’d never seen Luthor like this, except with Viktor, and knew from experience his hatred ran deeper than most. He’d survived what most males wouldn’t and, thus, felt things more intensely. Cyrus would eventually see reason, but Luthor…
Luthor might not.
Cyrus hissed something vile, and Luthor laughed. Sebastian countered with an insult, and then they began bickering anew. Ozone burned my nose. There was the metallic slide as Cyrus drew his knives.
But I wasn't looking at any of them.
No, I was staring at Caine. The look of vindictive pleasure on his face while he watched them fight, before he glanced over at me, as if gauging my reaction. At the smug, sanctimonious expression that gleamed on his face when he saw the pain in mine.
My heart beat like a drum in my ears as the truth hit me.
He’d set this whole thing up.
He’d wanted us to come tonight, had banked on it.
This was nothing but a play he’d scripted, moved us into place so he could tear us apart. To make matters worse, he’d used my father to do his dirty work.
Luthor had warned me, early on, that our love could be used against us, and I’d discounted his fears.
Playing us against each other was a terrifyingly efficient way to break us apart, and Caine hadn’t spilled a drop of blood in the process. Katarina had cursed Luthor and Cyrus in order to hurt me, but all Caine had to do was reveal the truth.
Both of them had done damage.
But I had a feeling the truth would tear us apart forever.
Or force me to make a choice I wasn’t willing to make.
40
SERAPHINA
I narrowed my gaze on Caine’s self-satisfied face, wanting to tear it off, but I needed answers.
I didn’t know if this would work. Part of me hoped it wouldn’t, that Caine couldn’t really see into our heads. That I still had secrets he didn’t yet know.
Why are you doing this? I pushed my question deep into his thoughts.
Isn’t it obvious? I was alone for an eternity. And every King needs a Queen.
There are plenty of queens in this world. Go pick another one.
But none of them are quite as delicious as you, Seraphina. Certainly, none of them freed me from my prison. And I somehow doubt any of them would stand up to me the way you do.
Just my luck. My life was finally working out until a delusional demigod decided I’m his dream girl. Not happening.
Caine shook his head. Keeping secrets from the ones you love is a mistake, Seraphina. Especially one of this magnitude. Besides, the traitor doesn’t deserve you. He tipped his head toward Deston.
You won’t be able to keep all of them. You’ll be lucky if you end up with any. Even Sebastian can’t accept you could keep such a terrible secret. And to protect his worst enemy. Caine clicked his tongue. Your father is quite disappointed in you, Seraphina.
He drew my name out seductively, and I shuddered.
And as for those two? His gaze slid over to Cyrus and Luthor, who both looked at Deston as if they were trying to determine where to start hacking him apart. What will they think of you, once you explain why you kept this from them? How you trusted a male you hated, more than the ones you claimed to love? Or will you explain it away? Make excuses? Minimize what you knew and when you knew it?
I couldn’t move. My feet were glued to the floor because, yes, I’d done exactly that. Again, my reasons were my own, but on the surface, they were every bit as damning as Deston’s.
I, on the other hand, understand the difficult choices one makes when you are in love. That there are too many shades of gray sometimes to see what’s black and white beneath.
You will not break us apart to serve your own ambitions, I insisted firmly. We are bound together, and by God, I will keep us together through sheer force of will. There’s no room for you, so banish that idea from your mind, right now.
You’ll soon find, Seraphina, that I do not lose.
As if Caine had scripted it, Sebastian pointed toward the door. “Get out, de Rayne. There’s no room here for traitors.”
I firmed my grip on Deston’s hand. “And if I march in here tomorrow with everything I’ve got, what then? Because I swear to Christ, I’ll raze this place to the ground, with you inside.”
My threat came out in a low, feral growl. At the prospect of losing everything, I’d slipped into my old recklessness, all because this asshole decided he wanted something he couldn't have.
“Then they’ll die,” Sebastian said coolly. “Look around, Seraphina, and see the truth. There's only one male here who doesn’t belong. Get rid of him, and everything will go back to how it was.”
Now I was the one who snorted and raised my chin defiantly. “Nice try, but I already made myself clear. Deston’s my mate. He's not going anywhere. Neither are Luthor and Cyrus. We are staying together.”
From their defensive stance, I knew this, too, was a lie.
I only hoped they’d keep up a united front long enough for us to get out of here.
I didn’t want to give Caine anything else to gloat about.
Pain stabbed my heart when I told my father, “If you want to pick a side, then choose. But you can’t trust Caine, and if you do, you’ll regret it.”
Caine’s evil chuckle was soft.
You will not keep any of them, Seraphina. Holding on tightly will only make them leave faster.
I couldn’t wait to prove him wrong.
Luthor appeared calm on the surface, but his anger boiled along the bond, leaving me scalded. Deston watched Caine carefully, as if he knew what the elder vampire was up to and already planned a treacherous response. Cyrus quietly watched all of us, then finally sheathed his knives.
I linked my arms with Deston and Cyrus.
“But you’re right, we should leave. Enjoy your life,” I told the both of them, heartbroken that my father couldn’t see through Caine’s lies. Maybe he hated Deston so much, he was blinded. Maybe he had every right to be disgusted with me. Whatever the case, I was walking away, before this devolved any further.
We strode down the hallway three across, past the chandeliers and the priceless furniture, the flowers freaking everywhere, the crackling fireplaces, and straight out the front door.
When we reached the sidewalk, I stepped immediately into Deston’s arms. They trembled slightly when he wrapped them around me.
“We’re going back to the palace,” I told Luthor and Cyrus. “I hope that you meet us there. I hope you’ll give us a chance to explain.”
“I…” Luthor looked down the empty street. “I have to think. I'm heading for the crypt. I'll come to you when I'm ready.”
Cyrus looked between us, obviously torn. Then he finally nodded. “I'm sticking with Luthor. We’ll meet you at the palace in a couple of hours.”
My heart sank. But they were right, they needed time to process this, talk it over, because that’s how Luthor’s analytical mind worked. He had to make sense of things, and get his emotions under control, before he made a decision. That careful self-control was why I loved him and what made him such a good commander.
Cyrus would stay with him because that’s what Cyrus did. He took care of his friends.
“All right, if you haven’t come to the palace by nightfall, I'll come to you. Deal?”
Luthor nodded, his face expressionless. “Deal.” But right before he dematerialized, I clearly saw his face. He’d looked at Deston, and all I saw was pure, unadulterated hatred.
Deston flew us back, landing in the throne room. He released me and stepped away, his face grave.
“Ma cherie, your sire is right. I should leave. I never wanted to make your life harder, nor cause a rift between Luthor and Cyrus and you.” My mating mark ached, every bit as deeply as my heart. Panic rose, tightening my chest, making it hard to breathe.
“Nobody’s going anywhere. Caine set this all up, to try to break us apart, and I'll be goddamned if I let him win.”
“Ah, I thought so,” he said it so easily, I wondered how Luthor and Cyrus hadn’t seen it too. “Is this about losing to Caine?” Deston asked carefully, his shrewd eyes fixed on my face. “Or about losing us?”
I went still, seeing his point.
“I’m not speaking of myself, mon amour,” he assured me, pulling me close, his thumbs digging into my tight shoulders. “I know you love me. I do not doubt your motives. But Luthor… he was hurt tonight. Badly.”
“I know. He doesn’t forgive easily.” I sighed. “Or at all.”
“You need to decide, ma cherie, and you need to be sure, before you talk to Luthor. Revenge or love? If your heart is not in the right place when you face him, he will feel betrayed all over again, and then you could truly lose him.”
His face tightened, and he stopped massaging my back. “How did you know Caine maneuvered us tonight? You did not speak mind to mind with him, did you?”
“Yes, while you were all at each other’s throats, I did. I saw what he was doing, and I called him on it.”
