Mara's bloodmark makes her a servant of the Royal Court of Vampyrs - until the King accidentally marks her as his mate. Meanwhile, dark unrest stirs among the royal vampyrs, with Mara caught in the crosshairs.
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King Atlas had ordered the guards stationed in our private wing to not let Prince Laizef through without explicit consent from Atlas himself. It makes me feel somewhat better, knowing the Prince can't visit without my permission first. But King Atlas remains on edge, brows knitted together and lips puckered in concentration.
As Elara trots beside the King's mammoth steed, Caarg, I ask over the sound of the horses and the wind, "Are you alright?"
He shakes himself out of his stupor. "Yes, sorry. My mind is a bit preoccupied today."
"With?" I prompt. It strikes me that it may be something personal, so I backpedal. "Sorry. Tell me only if you want."
His smile quickens my heart. Atop the black Clydesdale, dressed in cotton robes and glittering jewelry, there is no doubt that he is the King of Vampyrs. Regal and handsome, he is the sort of noble that comes from fairytales.
"I don't mind telling you. It's just – Laizef has always been a bit of a troublemaker. Sometimes, when a vampyr is inducted to the Court, it goes to their head. And it certainly has gone to Laizef's. He likes to parade about like a peacock, bragging his luxury and status."
Say what you will about the Prince, but he is meant for this lifestyle, I muse to myself. He had no other fate than to be a royal vampyr—it's etched into his bones.
"But he's fairly controllable . . . I realize that sounds cruel. He enjoys this life, and he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize it. Typically, we just ignore him. Let him strut about, and he'll otherwise behave."
When the King pauses to sigh, a puzzled expression settles on his face. "However, recently, he's been a bit more troublesome. Much more rambunctious and opinionated. In fact, it started after the announcement that I'd Marked you."
My heart twangs, breath stopping short. The Prince's rebellion may be my fault. Transported to that shadowy throne room, I hear his insistence that the arrangement for my death would be fair—no one would be angry with Atlas if he chose to eliminate me, and thus our bond. Could his recent behaviors be rooted in the fact that Atlas refused the proposition and chose to keep me? Could I be the reason? I swallow compulsively.
"Now with him showing up at your room unannounced," continues King Atlas, deep in thought, "I admit I'm concerned."
I tighten my hold on the reins. "Do you think . . . Do you think he means to harm me?"
King Atlas slows his steed, Elara slowing as well. Gaze fierce and voice taking on the icy hardness of authority, he says, "No harm will come to you, Mara. I swear it." The ice melts with another sigh. "I doubt Laizef is up to anything more than troublesome mischief. You mustn't worry about this, Mara. Okay?"
