Blood Moon (MalexMale Paranormal Fantasy)

Chapter 18 ∞ DAIRE

I wander over tangles of driftwood and years of collected debris and stand on a wide sweep of land overlooking the sea. With hands tucked in my pockets, I gaze along the moon-dappled waves toward the black shadow of Mt. Elant. I think of my coven and the nights spent listening to the crash of waves against the seaside boulders with so much hope in my heart that I could one day make things better. I think of Reeve and the depth of revulsion and betrayal on his face. My heart twists and I press a palm to it in an attempt to abate the throb, a too-familiar companion these past two nights.

I want to give my sorrow, my frustration, my tired agony to the night, so that I might wake up tomorrow without it. Fling it out with the hopes that it can change this familiar hurt, this helplessness that's plagued me my whole life as time and again my value and who I am comes down to my title alone. I thought it could be different this time, a safe space to show someone else who I am without a crown, without a coven, or anything casting an illusion of fantasy about a prince; be it good or bad. It was I who fell for the illusion this time, too easily enthralled by the opportunity to be myself, to be free in ways I've never had before as a royal, a warrior, or a vengeful ghost. But none of it matters, none of it makes a difference in the end; I'm still the vampyre prince, haunted by a skewed reputation that will negate anything else I'll ever do.

I remember how my sire always turned to the sea for comfort, providing an ease, he had said, that reached down into his very core. I've considered its appeal before, watching words carved into wet sand taken by the tide as if they'd never existed. There is something heartening in its ability to churn and damage as well as drift and soothe. A duality I'm familiar with; a warrior and a healer. Reeve knows me as both, understands me and likes me as both, in ways even Peter doesn't, yet one word had the power to erase every line of trust, all of our work, each moment that he had found a new place to burrow inside me, like it had all been etched into wet sand and so easily and quickly undone. That's what hurts the most; that I've never felt so completely alone as I do now. I thought we had been building something sturdy and immovable.

My uncle had told me my entire life that I was disposable; what a fool I am to have never fully believed him until now.

"Holy goddess, look at this place." Peter climbs up from the trail behind me and swings around, appreciating the full view. "I saw Cass and Leo on the way in. How did that happen? Do you trust them?"

"They were sent out to track down the Ghost. And yes, I had them pledge a blood oath last night."

With a sigh of relief, he says, "Good. Bet they nearly pissed themselves when they saw you."

I grin despite my mood. "All but."

"I take it by the batling you had Cass send that the Silver Blood Pack didn't take kindly to learning who you are."

"That's putting it mildly," I say and lean in close to not risk Cass and Leo overhearing. Cass' presence allows me to more freely send batlings again, as a transmission from a king's guard will infuse the scent of a batling's blood in a particular way. Hopefully, it will deter any further poisonings of the creatures out here if it carries his particular scent, at least until his deceit is discovered—and I have no doubt that it will be.

Still, I don't want the two of them knowing all of my plans; no one does.

"Go and gather what supplies you'll need," I say to Peter. "I want you stationed outside of the Silver Blood Pack's eastern borders for protection and keeping an eye out for any trouble. Alert their patrols if you have any suspicions of an attack and send me a batling. I'll come right away."

"Where will you be?"

"Staying close, but I need to find Mavis Blue. We need to prepare to move ahead without Reeve and his pack."