House of Kings(17)

I turn to the voice behind me and find myself face-to-face with Micah Washington.

His face instantly pales and his expression goes slack. He instantly drops to one knee, his head bowed. “Your majesty.”

“Well, look at that,” Cyrus says as he looks over at me with an amused expression. “The traitors do have manners, after all.”

“It’s good to see you looking so well, Micah,” I say. I feel the black snake slithering through my veins quickly. I feel vengeance creeping up my spine. “Last I saw you, you all were running away from my newly acquired House with your tail between your legs.”

“I beg your forgiveness,” Micah says, his voice quaking.

“Where is she?” Cyrus says as four more Bitten join us in the dining room. “The one in charge of this humiliating disaster?”

A pair of heels click over wood, and slowly, I hear her descend the stairs. With forced calm, she rounds the railing and comes into full view.

“Hello, Jasmine,” I say. The smile upon my lips won’t be denied.

Her face is stark, drained of blood. Her eyes are glazed, fear controlling every held breath in her body. Her eyes only graze over me for a moment before settling on the King.

“Jasmine Voltera,” Cyrus says as he takes a step forward, his hands crossed in front of him. “It seems it’s been only the blink of an eye since we last met.”

“Almost sixteen years,” she says, but the words stick in her throat.

“Yes,” he says. He stops just five feet in front of her. “We had a lot of fun that week, didn’t we?”

I’m reminded again of the coldness Cyrus brings with him. He came to investigate why Silent Bend no longer had a Royal leader, Elijah having been killed, my father unwilling to claim the throne. Samuel and Christian Kask’s father had been leading for over a century. So, Cyrus called a game. If he could survive a battle against two dozen armed humans, Cyrus would instate him as a full-fledged Royal.

The Kask father did not survive.

And Jasmine took over leadership.

“Now, I’ve been hearing some interesting stories from not just Lady Conrath, but her House members, as well.” Cyrus takes another step forward, and Jasmine takes an identical one back. “Stories of heart-breaking manipulation. Stories of death and love. Stories of betrayal.”

The look in his eyes darkens. I can feel the disdain rolling off him in almost touchable waves. I feel my own fear and anticipation double.

Another vampire enters the room and I turn to find Trinity watching the scene with little more than disinterest.

Maybe the girl doesn’t have a soul.

“Are they true?” Cyrus says to Jasmine. His voice is low, almost hurt.

“My King,” she says, and the desperation that climbs out of her is almost humorous. “I was only trying to maintain what I had worked so hard to create.”

“What you created?” he challenges, the annoyance in his voice mixing with the humor. “See, because I thought that I had created this race? I thought that I had exiled those who betrayed me, and their descendants. I thought I had created this House system and maintained who would rule the world.”

He takes another step forward. As he does, Micah climbs to his feet again, poised and ready.

He will do anything for Jasmine.

And it will get him killed.

“See, I thought it was Elijah Conrath, a Born Royal, who created the House of Silent Bend. I thought it was he who built those houses and gained loyalty. He who controlled this area, aided in keeping our kind hidden.” Cyrus produces a blade from inside his jacket. He holds it before him, teasing Jasmine’s eyes as they follow it back and forth. “I thought it was he who led this area rightfully until he was killed.”

He brings the blade up, brushing the tip of it along Jasmine’s lower ribcage. Micah’s breath hitches and he takes another two steps forward.

“And I thought it was Alivia who had Royal blood flowing through her veins, giving her the birthright to take her proper place.” Cyrus leans in close, his nose tracking Jasmine’s neck as he breathes in her scent. “Because you, my misinformed miscreant, do not carry an ounce of Royal blood in your body.”

Cyrus’ fangs sink into Jasmine’s neck, and not a second later, Micah bounds forward, fangs extended, eyes red. But with the flick of his wrist, Cyrus throws his blade.

It buries itself into Micah’s chest, into his heart.

Micah hits the ground. Blood rushes from the wound. And instantly, his skin turns ashen.

Cyrus releases Jasmine’s neck and she’s instantly at Micah’s side with a scream.

“No!” Her hands hover over his body, looking for something, anything she can do to take back the last few moments. But it’s too late. He’s already dead. This time, forever. “No!” she screams again.