“Forget what I said,” Abel added quickly. “This isn’t about the law. It’s about you. You were meant to be queen. The members of our clan love you. Your dream doesn’t have to end with my coronation.”
The implication of his words sank in immediately. When he turned her to face him, she wanted to avoid his gaze, but out of respect for the position he held she didn’t.
His dark eyes looked at her with an intensity she’d always loved about his brother. But in Abel, it scared her. Or was she simply scared because it meant she would finally have to admit to herself that it was time to move on and let go of the memories she treasured, the memories of true love?
“I need a queen. A woman like you, one who is loved by her subjects. I know I’m not like him. I could never be the just leader he was. But with you by my side, with you guiding me to show me what he would have done in my stead, I can be a good king. I need you.”
Faye searched his eyes, trying to see past his words, past the face he showed her. Did he mean it? Did he really need her in order to be the kind of king their vast clan needed? And could she truly help him be that man? Was that her calling? To be queen, so he could be king?
Her chest lifted as she took a breath. “I don’t know, Abel. I loved your brother.”
Abel pressed a finger to her lips. “And he loved you. He would want this for you. He would want you to have what was meant to be yours. He would want you to move on and be happy again. To see you smile again. I remember that smile. But I haven’t seen it for so long.”
She lowered her lids and nodded. “It is hard to get over the death of someone so . . . ” She couldn’t even continue her thought, nor say his name, without risking dissolving into tears.
“Give me a chance,” Abel said gently.
“This is all so unexpected. I need time to think about it,” she answered quickly, desperate to buy herself some time and at the same time not offend him. This was a decision she couldn’t make, not without thinking about the consequences. She didn’t love Abel. He was in so many ways not like his brother. Where his brother had been kind and lenient, Abel was harsh and stern. Their personalities couldn’t be more different from each other.
Faye wanted to scream, to lament that the wrong brother had died. If only that night she’d not let him out of her arms. Then he would still be alive. He would still be king, and she would be his blood-bonded mate and his queen.
“Do it for the clan, if not for me.”
Faye looked past him, her eyes peering into the darkness beyond the palace she lived in. It was vast, a huge structure built like a fortress, impenetrable and awe-inspiring. A large palace for a large clan, one that encompassed all of Louisiana and spilled over its borders. A clan so secretive, yet influential way beyond its physical boundaries, that few vampires outside knew of its existence. All previous kings had wanted it that way, knowing that in anonymity lay safety.
The old ways were still strong within the clan. The laws they lived by had been passed down from their founders, though the living accommodations were modern and the castle—tucked away in a remote wooded area north of New Orleans—was equipped with state-of-the-art security. Just as it behooved a king. Guards and other key members of the clan lived in the palace, while in buildings surrounding the well-kept grounds, other vampires made their home.
Faye’s eyes drifted back to Abel. “You deserve a mate who loves you.”
He smiled. “I’ll settle for one who may one day learn to love me.”
She sighed. “I don’t know.”
“We could be crowned together in two weeks if you say yes.”
She swallowed hard. “I’ll give you my answer. Soon.”
Then she turned quickly and rushed through the open door into the corridor beyond. She almost collided with somebody and looked up in shock.
“Apologies, Faye,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“John, uh, you didn’t,” she lied, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible.
John was tall and broad, a strong vampire with a fast hand and a quick mind. It was those qualities that had made him the leader of the king’s elite guard, the small hand-selected group of vampires who guarded the king and queen.
But John had failed guarding his king. Under his watch, the king had been assassinated. When Faye had seen the telltale ash and the signet ring on the floor—the remains of her lover—she’d accused John of neglecting his duty. He’d hung his head, accepting her hateful words in stoic silence, never even attempting to offer an excuse or apology.
She’d never understood why Abel hadn’t punished John. Had she been in the position to give orders, she would have demanded John’s execution for his failure to keep the king safe.