Page 15 of House of Royals

“But no burning skin?” I ask.

“No burning, flaming bodies,” he says, that mischievous smile returning as he shakes his head. “They’re fast, strong like a bear, tough as a rhino, and quiet as cats. They really are the evolution of the perfect predator.”

I nod, feeling like I’m starting to get a small grasp on this whole thing. “Okay, so the Born are immortal, the Bitten age as normal. Both can be killed with a stake to the heart or a quick beheading. There’s a King who sounds pretty badass. My father was a Born vampire, my mother was a human, which means when I die…” My words slow as all the puzzle pieces start falling into their right order. “I’m not really going to die…”

I say this last part slowly because it’s only now that I’m starting to realize the impact of what I just said.

“I’m going to be a vampire someday,” I breathe.

“I’m afraid so,” Rath says quietly.

But it’s Ian who surprises me when I look up. His eyes are intense and dark and conflicted.

There’s so much to him that I don’t understand.

“Alright,” I say with a deep breath. “Anything I’m missing?”

This brings the smile back to Ian’s face. “Oh, baby doll, we’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“THE BAGS ARE PACKED,” BETH, one of the housekeepers, interrupts the all too quiet dining room. I turn to see her not quite looking at any of us, holding a packed suitcase in her hands.

“Thank you,” Rath says. She gives an uncomfortable smile, leaves the bag on the floor, and leaves.

I turn questioning eyes on Rath, who stares at me for a bit longer than he should to be innocent.

“Mr. Ward and I talked last night while you slept and came to a decision,” Rath starts. He places his elbows on the table and laces his fingers together. “As he mentioned last night, there is no way the House won’t hear about your attack. They will come for you and while I don’t believe it will be to the extreme that Ian does, they will sway you with you being so uninformed, and I know your father wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“What do you mean by house?” I ask, every survival instinct in me perking up. I don’t like where this is heading.

“Ian will educate you as you start training,” Rath says. He snaps his fingers and attendants flood into the room to begin clearing breakfast. “But for now, we both feel it best that you stay away from the Conrath Estate until you are ready. You will be going to stay with Ian.”

My head whips to look at him, and I’m sure a sour expression dominates my face. “You’re kidding, right? We’ve already established how he tried to kill me, and you want to send me off to live with him?”

“Mr. Ward will bring you no harm,” Rath says as he stands. Ian and I do at the same time, as well. “He didn’t know the circumstances at the time, and he did what he thought best. Trust me, no one will be more skilled in keeping you safe until you are ready to make your own decisions.”

“Decisions about what?” I demand. I back toward the door. I don’t know what I’m going to do: run, hide, head back to Colorado—but I don’t like feeling like I do.

“The decision about whether you want to join the House or not,” Ian says impatiently. He walks around the table and grabs the bag from the floor. “Can you just take my promise that I won’t hurt you and get going? We really don’t have a whole lot of time. It’s already uncomfortably far into the afternoon.”

I look at the clock hanging on the far wall and realize that despite having just eaten “breakfast,” it is four in the afternoon. Rath really was going to let me sleep all day.

My eyes flick between Ian and Rath and back again.

I don’t know what to do.

I barely know these men. I don’t know whom to trust.

But there’s an echo in the back of my head saying that this is what my father would have wanted. And even though I didn’t know him at all, I feel like I would have wanted to.

“You’re not really giving me a choice, are you?” I ask, feeling the fight seep out of me.

“Not when you don’t understand the big picture yet.” Ian’s eyes are begging me to trust him. And there’s something there in the purse of his lips, in the tenseness of his shoulders, in the readiness of his stance that makes me think I can.

“Let me go get dressed,” I say resentfully.

Stranger danger is screaming at me the whole time I’m getting ready. But it’s a tiny thing pushed into the corner by an attack last night and a very big story told over breakfast. So I slide into shorts and a t-shirt, and knot my hair on top of my head. Lastly, I slide the unopened letter from my father into my back pocket.

“We should get going,” Ian says as I come down the stairs. He’s already waiting by the front door, keys in hand, my bag in the other.

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