Page 14 of Fated to the Vampire Prince
Once he was gone, I seized Claire’s hand and guided her toward the coach.
“Get in.”
She shot me a look that would’ve made a lesser man cower. “You don’t need to take your bad mood out on me. I didn’t invite your nephew.”
“Get in,please,”I added through my teeth.
Claire rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. A footmanhanded me the reins to my horse, Lucien. His black mane a welcome sight. With one easy motion, I mounted.
“Aren’t you riding with me?” Claire asked, pausing on the topmost step of the coach.
Me? Ride? In the carriage?With her?Absolutely not. Generals didn’t ride in carriages.
“I ride with the guard.” My lip curled in a reluctant smile. “My nephew can keep you company.”
Before anything else could be said, I motioned to the footman, and he snapped the door shut. I didn’t want to see her reaction. I didn’t want to see her at all.
Chapter 7
Craindre
CLAIRE
We rode at an unforgiving pace for three days, never stopping except to change horses. When we did, Lady Natalia would force a skin of water into my hand and demand I drink. Otherwise, none of the riders spoke to me.
I saw Bastien only briefly during that time. There was never an opportunity to exchange more than a glance with the vampire I was supposed to be spying on. Sometimes, when I couldn’t sleep, I’d open the curtains and watch him: a lone figure in moonlight, riding beside us, hair unbound and bright against the dark. His jaw set. His mouth a hard, tempting line. I wondered if his necklace was still pulsing like a heartbeat, and what that meant, but I knew he’d never humor my curiosity.
Frustrated, I closed the curtains and let out an exasperated huff, which drew the attention of my only companions: Bastien’s nephew and his sanguine partner, a young woman named Lady Okeri Djannelle. A human noble who’d grown up in the capital.
More often than not, Tyson was grumblingabout being locked inside a carriage instead of being allowed to ride. Lady Okeri listened to his bellyaching with mild disinterest as she massaged a sweet-smelling cream on her mahogany skin until it glistened.
Neither seemed interested in me except in fleeting bursts, like when they produced a deck of cards and wanted to play to pass the time—some game from the capital they calledDépouiller, which took me the better part of a day to learn. They said it was more fun with strong drink and more people and quickly lost interest.
I didn’t mind when they ignored me. I was used to being invisible. It was the daily feedings that were more difficult to ignore. At sunset, when the last rays were streaking through the sky, Lady Okeri would set her hand on Tyson’s cheek and examine him.
“You need to eat,” she’d say without fail.
He’d make some joke about being ‘full of himself’ that he likely found funny, but Okeri didn’t. And neither did I. “Laugh all you want, Tyson, but no matter how full you claim to be, by sunset you look weak.”
This caught my attention. From the corner of my eye, I watched them locked in debate about this perceived weakness, wondering if vampires needed bloodevery dayto maintain their strength. Swallowing hard, I wondered if Bastien expected to feed frommethat often.
Okeri tilted her head to the side, pulling back her curly hair, and offering herself to him. “I can’t stand that sickly look in your eyes. Just do it.”
Gripping the side of her neck, Tyson pulled her close. “If you insist.”
I looked away in an effort to avoid swooning, but there was no escaping the way Lady Okeri gasped when his lips foundher neck or the sound of him swallowing mouthfuls of her like she was sweetened tea on a stifling day.
A sheen of sweat broke out across my brow and my hands began to shake. I didn’t know how I was going to endure the same once we arrived at Château Rose, so I put it out of my mind.
In the hours I spent in silence, I stared out the window and thought of Sera. Hoping my little sister made it back home without doing something reckless. At night, when I could sleep, I dreamed of seeing her again in the graveyard outside our house. Watching her cast spells under the light of the full moon. Happy and whole.
My dreams never remained sweet for long. They’d weave into nightmares that left me drenched in sweat. Images of a graveyard turned bloody, of bodies littered between gravestones. And of a wolf with piercing eyes coming to claim Sera’s life.
On the morning of the fourth day, when I had a terrible crick in my neck from sleeping on the tufted bench and barely exercising my legs, we stopped at a small inn on the bank of a lake that looked as big as the ocean, just as the sun was setting.
I’d studied enough maps to know this must be Emerald Lake. And by the sun’s position, I knew we were near the northern bank, just south of Swift River. Nearly midway between the capital and Château Rose.
Part of me was excited to be allowed out of the coach for a proper meal, but another part of me was terrified of what was waiting: the Duke of Roselyn, and his teeth.
