Vampire Legacy (Book 4 of the Dragon Heat series) (26 page)

Talia released a long sigh in relief.

“My dear bride, Lady Natalia,” Kalaur called, drawing Talia’s attention back to the stage. “Come stand with me.”

“I am comfortable where I am, my lord,” Talia murmured, barely able to contain her anger. 

Kalaur did not seem to be fazed by her audacity. On the contrary, he smiled broadly and added, “It is not a request, future wife. Come to my side.”

Oh, how Talia wanted to spit on that remark and challenge the great Lord of Dragons, but unfortunately she had no other choice but to yield. According to their tradition, once betrothed, brides were bound to their future husbands. They essentially became their property, especially in the absence of their fathers.

With a bitter taste in her mouth, Talia climbed up the stairs and paused a few feet from the gut-clenching sight of the guillotine. Her gaze descended on Ivan, but the friend who had promised to lead their country to better times had disappeared from her heart, and now there stood only a vile, pompous prick with a proud smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

A surge of red rage shook Talia to the core.

For the first time, she wished she were a vampire with the strength and speed to force the filthy traitor under the guillotine’s blade and make him bleed for what he’d done.

“It was brought to my attention how you went out of your way to send this last prayer to Mr. Milek,” her future husband said, lifting her letter in the air for all to see.

Talia swallowed dry, her hands shook at her sides.

Oh, Mighty Soartas, she had forgotten about her letter. Ivan betrayed his closest friends who had once risked their lives to take his wife and offspring to safety. Nothing would have stopped him from turning her in as well—the one who denied him her love not even a few days before.

Kalaur closed the gap between them and grasped Talia by the elbow. “I was confused when I read your letter—words of hope, of safe travels to Apa Sâmbetei, and a wish for the rebellion to end.” He paused, and then added in low and menacing tone. “Some husbands would have taken this act as treachery.”

A dense silence descended upon the pit. Some guests looked at Talia sideways, not knowing what to make of the circus.

Merciful Soartas, her head was going to be next. She had written the letter in codes. There was no way Kalaur could have deciphered them without Ivan’s help. And if Ivan helped Kalaur to read her letter, he had probably told him everything she had been doing for the cause. Who could guarantee that he had not ratted out all of their comrades as well? No one was safe.

But for some reason, the Soartas had other plans for Talia.

“I, on the other hand, admire your talent for charity. And I promise you, your wish shall be granted. Once married, you will live in a land of peace. No murmurs of rebellion will keep you awake at night or fill your mind…with worry.” He gave her a knowing look, as if reiterating the fact that he owned her now, and then turned his attention to the crowd. “And now, let us return to the Great Glass Hall and enjoy the festivities. I personally funded this feast as I would like you all to celebrate my future wedding to my beautiful bride.”

Talia’s mind was reeling at a hundred miles per hour, but panic froze her in place. It was clear Kalaur knew she had taken part in the plot to depose him. His speech about the contents of her letter had been a clear message that only she and Ivan could have understood. And for some reason he had decided to save her head. But why? The answer to that question was what scared her the most.

The crowd clapped and cheered loudly, showing their support for Kalaur’s sudden display of generosity, then dispersed back to the hall. Talia took that moment to try to snake her way out, but Kalaur’s grip tightened around her arm keeping her in place.

“You are hurting me, my lord,” she murmured.

“I do not give a fuck, milady,” he replied, shocking Talia with such foul language. “You not only plotted against me, but humiliated me in front of everyone by refusing to obey my commands. I will not stand this behavior from a wife.”

“I will never marry you,” she growled back.

“Yes, you will.” He dragged her to him, almost breaking her arm in the process. “Even if I have to lock you in a tower, you will marry me, Natalia. Your dear father cannot save you now. And you better get one thing into that stubborn head of yours,” he snarled in her ear. “No one comes between me and what I want.”

“So why in Hiad do you want me? You could have had anyone else with lands larger than my father’s.”

He glowered at her with condescending eyes. “Oh, dear Natalia, you are so naive. Do you really believe it is your father’s lands I want?”

Talia had no understanding of politics, but her gut told her this battle was much bigger than she had originally thought.

“I could not care less about your lands.”

“Let go of me.”

He sneered and leaned closer, inches from her mouth. “But I will have much pleasure ripping your little cunt apart, even if I am not the first one.”

Oh dear Soartas!
“Let go of me,” she shouted yanking her arm back, not caring that everyone would hear her, but his grip was too strong.

As she forced her arm free, her sleeve ripped with the strain. The beautiful lapel tore in half, revealing the skin underneath.

Her skin marred by Petran’s bites.

Kalaur’s eyes went wide in surprise. “So, it
is
true. The bastard rebel was not lying,” he murmured, then his cheeks went bright red and pure rage replaced the shock. “You filthy whore!”

Talia lifted her hand to protect herself but not fast enough. Kalaur’s closed fist connected with her face, smacking her off balance. She fell heavily onto the wooden floor. Her eyes instantly began watering as white hot pain shot up her left cheek. Before she could recover, she felt him grab a chunk of her hair and lift her up.

She braced herself for another blow, but it never came.

*********

Petran as much as flew to the stage; his rage fueling his muscles. That swine had dared to smack Talia across the face, in front of everyone, and by the looks of things Kalaur was planning on carrying on with the show.

Not as long as Petran was alive, he would not.

“Let go of her,” Petran growled gripping Kalaur’s hand in the air, preventing it from connecting to Talia’s face again.

“Oh, look who has decided to present himself,” Kalaur sneered. “How fitting, Vampire King.”

“I do not know to what you are referring, Kalaur,” Petran lied without wavering. “But if you do not release Lady Natalia at once, you will not live to see another day.”

“What is going on here?” Oberon asked, as he and Lord Farquat joined the fight. “Fellas, we are in the Castle of Kings, we are forbidden to fight amongst ourselves by the ancient oath.”

“Fuck the ancient oath,” Kalaur shouted, shocking the small group of guests who had remained in the grounds. His nostrils flared in rage. “I want her head hanging side by side with those two! And you,” he said, squaring off at Petran. “You will pay for this.”

“Are you threatening me?” Petran snarled at Kalaur.

“My friends, please,” Oberon requested again. “We are the leaders of the civilized world. We must favor reason before violence.”

“Civilized world?” Kalaur grunted. “This prick defiled my fiancée!”

Petran exhaled sharply. Damn the Soartas.

“These are serious allegations, Lord Kalaur,” Lord Farquat pondered. “Are you certain?”

“He barks without any proof, Farquat,” Petran growled. “As always, Lord Kalaur just wants the attention.”

“You want proof?” Kalaur bellowed, and then he grabbed Talia by the nape of her neck, forcing her head back. “Here’s my proof!”

She cringed with the force of the movement, obviously in pain but did not yield easily. Nonetheless, the placement of her neck revealed two bite marks, which marred her beautiful skin. As faint as they were, there was no doubt of what they were. A collective gasp echoed in the night as the guests saw what Petran had hoped no one would ever see.

“You are delusional, dragon, these are mere scratches,” Petran growled. “I will not stand here and listen idly to your insane accusations. Take them back or I will cut your throat open, right here.”

“Milek spilled how she had been plucked by another male and that you, blood sucker, were aiding the rebels.”

“Ivan?” Talia called out. The hurt in her eyes showed she was feeling much more than physical pain, the deep pain of betrayal.

“That’s preposterous!” Petran tried to defuse the situation, which was quickly going astray. “What do I have to gain by helping draco rebels?”

“That’s what I want to find out,” Kalaur replied, then turned to Oberon and Farquat. “Gentlemen, if you do not believe me, ask him yourselves.”

Everyone turned to Milek who had been standing across the platform. The bastard’s eyes grew widen in terror when Petran glared at him, but the prospect of having Kalaur as an ally was probably quite encouraging. Milek opened his mouth but before any words came out, Talia jumped in.

“It is true,” Talia shouted, making everyone’s attention turn back to her. “I have been defiled.”

What in Hiad was she doing?

“Milady, you do not know what you say,” Petran warned, and then turned to face everyone else. “She must be flustered and confused after the blow. Heed her no attention.”

“I am not confused, your majesty,” she replied emphatically. “It is not with pride that I admit but…I am no longer a virgin.”

Once again, the group of onlookers gasped in reply. By now, the entire horde of guests had returned to the pit to see the show.

“But King Petran was not the one who defiled me,” Talia added.

“Who was it then, my child?” Oberon asked her, sounding truly concerned.

Talia lifted her finger and pointed at her former friend, the former rebel leader. “Milek was the one.”

“That is a lie,” the bloody traitor cried out.

“You filthy whore, do you take me for a fool?” Kalaur bellowed again and lifted his hand to strike Talia in the face as he had before.

Petran saw red.

Before the draco’s palm had moved an inch toward its destination, Petran lunged at him propelling them both into the air. They landed on top of each other on the grass behind the stage. Without a second thought, Petran locked the draco under him and landed a series of punches to the fucker’s face. He could care less about the ancient oath or that probably the entire royal society of the Eastern Territories was watching.

No, all his mind could muster was the satisfaction of crushing the face of the man who dared harm his Talia.

Brown blood splattered with every blow, but Petran did not stop. He vaguely acknowledged Talia’s voice begging him to step aside. And yet he did not, he could not.

Strong hands gripped him on both sides. He fought against them but more hands joined in, winning the battle, and finally pulling him off Kalaur.

“Petran, stop,” Oberon shouted beside him.

“Let me go,” he bellowed in return. He felt strange energy flow through his arms and looked up. Two blathmac mages were now holding his down. Damn the Soartas. There was no way he could get out of their grip.

“We won’t let you go, not until you have calmed down,” Farquat added.

Kalaur stood up and before anyone could see it coming, he jumped in front of Petran and punched him in the face. Bloody swine.

“Lord Kalaur, that was uncalled for,” Oberon reprimanded, positioning himself between the draco and Petran.

“He only has the guts to hit females and people in chains,” Petran growled, spitting out blood. “I want to see him try when there is no one holding me down.”

Kalaur glared at Petran but ignored the challenge. “I officially request an enquiry,” he uttered solemnly. “King Petran and Lady Natalia have defamed my name. I will not have them go unpunished. Justice must be served!”

This was the last thing Petran could allow to happen. If an official enquiry were to occur, the truth would eventually come out and his affair with Talia would be confirmed. He would be condemned to death, his titles and land stripped, and in the best case scenario, Talia would be disowned.

No, he could not let that happen. It was time to take back the reins.

He took a deep breath and brought his powers forth. His limbs tingled as his body dematerialized cell by cell into an invisible cloud. The grips of the stunned blathmac mages loosened allowing him to do it even faster.

“What is this?” Kalaur grunted.

A hint of satisfaction filled Petran’s gut at the look of utter disbelief on Kalaur’s round face, but there was no time for celebration. Not just yet.

He hovered above them all, and then glided toward Talia. She knew what he’d done and met him in the eye.

A small smile lifted his lips as he watched her delight in seeing him amuse everyone. But Kalaur must also have noticed it, because he looked back and forth from Talia to the strange cloud hanging above them.

“The green cloud! He’s shifted into that,” Kalaur roared, suddenly connecting the dots.