I see a crack of light start to seep in through the darkness. The sun is rising outside. My body tenses—I don’t know why. Sunlight should be a relief. It casts away darkness and makes the world whole. The sun gives life and birth and renewal.
But something about that particular light makes me want to draw away.
I’ve never had that reaction before.
I watch, breath caught, as the light advances toward me. The creature, that witch, told me that the morning will teach me who I am.
I strain my ears for sound of an approach. But everything is quiet. Everything is still. The light grows stronger, seeping through the thick fabric curtains of my prison.
Nobody is coming. Why?
The light creeps toward me. A sense of great danger overcomes me. My instincts, honed over years on the battlefield, scream at me that something is terribly, horribly wrong.
And then the light reaches my exposed body. It touches my naked skin.
And the moment it does? A roar of agony is ripped from my lips. The pain is endless, ceaseless. It consumes me entirely.
But in the briefest flash of lucidity, I start to understand:
I’ve been made into one of them.
Chapter Four
SMITHSON
My eyes widen when I sense her strength.
The vampire being led forward by the Queen’s middle son is stunning—a radiant, tanned beauty.
She is also strong. Stronger than any I’ve ever encountered before.
Suddenly, all the guards I’ve posted do not seem like enough. She can use our natural hierarchical tendencies to turn them against me. Or, at the very least, to subdue them if a fight breaks out.
My eyes go to the Queen. She and I have history, yes—Morgan was the one who turned me—and my loyalty is unwavering to her for all the things she has opened my eyes to over the centuries.
Or so she’s been led to believe.
I am grateful for the gift she’s given me. Without her… without her, I’d have long been a corpse in the dirt. The Order I once belonged to would be nothing but a lost speck in the great shadow of time, gone forever to the world.
Instead, The Vorcellian Order is one of the most powerful secret organizations in existence. If Morgan had any idea of its survival…
But of course she doesn’t. Few vampires do. Besides, she’s been trapped within the boundaries of The Haven for six centuries, boundaries that are entirely of her own making.
She brought me here under guise of needing my help protecting her kingdom. In truth, I suspect her motivations are more sinister than that. She’s restless, I can tell, and aching to get out.
But while she rules, she cannot leave The Haven’s protective realm. Such is the cost of being a Great Witch.
I glance at her. Morgan is a picture of icy calm. She knows the vampire her son brought is stronger than she is—but she also knows that the magic she wields and the loyalty she commands amongst The Haven’s residents makes her untouchable.
It’s the second vampire, the one still on the plane, who truly concerns me.
That one is even stronger than the first.
Raul and his captive stop twenty feet before us. It’s a respectful distance, but the Queen’s son has no qualms showing his disdain for me.
He and I have no love lost over the years.
The Queen steps forward. “Who is this?” she asks, gesturing dismissively at Raul’s prisoner.
“Mother, I present to you Victoria Clare,” he says forwardly, going to one knee. “She is the one who betrayed Father and tried to draw Eleira’s blood.”
The short blonde vampire stares impetuously at the Queen. Without any permission being granted, she speaks.
“So, you’re Morgan. Much less impressive than I was led to believe.” She looks over the ring of trees surrounding us, and the guards I have posted there. “This is all the ceremony I get? Pity. I thought you would have tried harder to impress a member of the Inner Circle of the world’s most powerful coven.”
The Queen turns toward the prisoner. She walks to her. Victoria Clare stares right back,, defiant and unflinching.
I take a step forward to stay by my Queen’s side. She motions me still with a quick flick of her wrist.
Morgan stops half-a-step before Victoria. I feel the static potential for violence crackle through the air.
“You don’t impress me,” the bold prisoner says.
The Queen smiles through the increasing tension. “And you don’t frighten me, my child,” she replies sweetly. She brings a hand up to touch Victoria’s face.
Raul watches his Mother from his spot.
The tanned vampire doesn’t pull back. The clashing power between them makes the air feel thick, like we’re on the verge of a storm.
“You think I don’t know the secret of your power?” the Queen continues. “Of course I do. What’s more,” she gives a soft laugh, “I have the ability to take it all away. You did not earn it. You stole it from the one who corrupted my husband’s heart. I could take it away and destroy you right now… but I think you would be a much more fascinating subject for us to study.”