Page 52 of Wicked Bite
The throne room was the centerpiece of the castle, with thirty-foot ceilings, wide open space, and warm wooden beams going in all different directions. A single throne sat on top of a dais at the head of the room. Two flags hung on the wall behind it, both bearing the symbol for The House of Shade. It was a single silver sword with deep red roses winding around it, and it sat on a black shield. The same symbol was made of stained-glass, and when the sunlight shined through, it would project the crest onto the middle of the floor.
Courtiers milled about on the expensive furniture spread around the room. Some kings of the past wanted to make their subjects uncomfortable. Not Titus. He preferred them all to feel at home, to know they always had a place here. Even the newly made Night Spawn Vampires, some of whom held tradition like a talisman against the tide of change.
They were all adorned in modern chic clothing, mostly black and mostly leather, the women with their heavy eye makeup and slicked-back hair and the men in their tailored pressed suits. Blood fountains were spread throughout the room with crystal Waterford glasses standing next to them. Even the staff blended in with their black attire and discreet silver trays. I strolled into the room with Savage by my side.
“Say the word and I can clear the lot of them,” he murmured low enough for only me to hear.
I shook my head. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Grayson, darling.” My mother swept into the room like a breath of fresh air. That was the thing about Moira Shade. As a Vampire, she never fit the mold. My mother was lovely, and gentle. She was soft, with light words and an easy hand.
“Mother.” She brought a true smile to my face. I couldn’t say I was the easiest of children, but my mother had the patience of a saint.
She kissed both my cheeks and pulled me in for a quick embrace. The smell of fresh soap surrounded me for a moment. She was dressed in a light brown dress with gold overlays that looked more like shining lace. It covered her arms all the way up to her neck and complemented her pale skin. Her hair fell in loose curls down to her elbows. A golden band held the stray wild pieces back from her face while pieces of ribbon threaded through her curls. Her eyes were a deep chocolate brown, and she didn’t look a day over thirty.
“Have you kept your hands clean, my dear?” Her accent was far more regal than mine—which spoke of the years she spent in court. Each word was clear, clipped, and pronounced.
Visions of my hands covered in graveyard dirt filled my mind. When I didn’t answer, Sav cleared his throat. “But of course, Lady Moira. We are ever the epitome for decorum within Vampire society.”
We both paused, staring at him for a moment. I didn’t know whether to burst out laughing or shake my head. In all the years we’d been friends, decorum was not on our list of things to do. My mother sighed and rolled her eyes. “You know, you are quite long-winded, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“I have been made aware.” Sav returned her smile. “But I always enjoyed my attempt to maintain my innocence with you.”
Though my mother was not queen of the Vampires, she was revered as such. She married my father and was with him until the day he died. Even then, she still remained my uncle’s closest advisor and friend. They’d grown into the comfort of ruling. Since my uncle vowed never to take a mate, I was the only living heir to the throne.
“Your innocence was never in fear of existing.” She patted Sav on the cheek like a mother indulging her child. Not one other person in the room would dare attempt such a move. But there she was, smiling and patting him like he was her son. In truth, he might as well have been. “Lies do not become us, Atlas Savage.”
“Indeed, they do not.” His lips pulled up into a smirk and he kissed her cheek.
In truth, my mother was the only person Atlas would cow to. He adored her like a son would a mother, and she was all too happy to take him under her wing. She turned toward me. “Have you seen him yet?”
Him was always my uncle. “Not yet.”
“This ought to be interesting.”
“Ah, life with me is always interesting.” I escorted her closer to the throne. One of the staff members walked by and offered her a glass filled halfway with blood. She delicately took it from him and held the blood to her lips, sipping it like a fine wine.
“Always has been, darling. Try as I may to bring you into line, you’re always off . . . killing things.”
“Ah, but I make the world a better place for all.” She wasn’t wrong. I’d done my fair share of killing in a multitude of ways. But it was all justified . . . mostly.
“Indeed, dearest.” That was my mother: always supportive, always gentle. She’d never killed a thing in the world, not even a fly. And yet, she was surrounded by death and political intrigue.
The sound of the doors groaning forced silence to fall over the room. We all turned, and there stood Titus in all his glory. Power rolled off him and through the room. Blood magic was a strength that all born vampires possessed. But it manifested in different ways. For my mother, it was the ability to heal. For Savage, it was his hunting and killing abilities. For Titus, it was total and utter control . . . and we shared that very same ability.
The ability to control people through their blood was a kind of power I never wanted to tap into. Luckily, that power only manifested within the House of Shade and only with the King and his heir . . . me. Everyone in the room gave him a gracious bow. Even my mother grabbed a handful of her dress and curtsied. Sav gave a low bow in honor of King Titus. Yet, I didn’t budge. I stood straight and tall.
Titus stepped into the room, and all remained in their positions. He was regal yet modern, with long, sandy blond hair that flowed down to his shoulders and a matching goatee. His clothing spoke of modern wealth, with a tailored Armani pinstriped suit, white shirt, and black tie. His shoes were polished to a perfect shine. When he smiled, his fangs poked from his mouth. There was no fanfare about Titus. In fact, he was the calmest King I’d ever met. It was why he had a far-reaching friendships that extended across species and time.
His stroll was confident and strong, with the air of someone who knew who they were, what they were, and where they were going. When he reached us, he paused before me. His lips pulled up into a full smile and he gave a heavy contented sigh. “Finally, you have returned home.”
“I have.”
He clapped me on the shoulder. “You’ve been missed.”
“It pleases me to know my welcome is always warm here.” The court turned to look at us, taking in every detail of our interaction. Like there would be some scandal to speak of between us, when the only scandal was my reluctance to embrace what was to come.
He turned toward the rest of the court. “Leave us.”
