Gabriel stord into the abandoned building. The broken doors slamd against the walls.
In the far corner, the man hunched over a rickety table, busy with vials that glowed faintly. The man turned, startled by the noise, his eyes adjusting to the sudden, overwhelming presence of the vampire lord.
"Lord Gabriel... is everything okay?" he. "You look like—"
But Gabriel didn’t wait for him to finish. In the blink of an eye, he was across the room. His hand shot out, and before he could react, Gabriel had him by the throat, lifting him clean off the ground.
"You son of a bitch!" Gabriel snarled, fangs bared. "You told she wouldn’t get pregnant!"
He barely had ti to gasp before Gabriel hurled him like a rag doll across the room. He crashed into a pile of rotting furniture.
The man groaned, wincing as he pushed himself up. "What the hell are you talking about?!"
Gabriel was on the move again, stalking forward. His eyes were glowing now.
"Lord Gabriel, I think it’s ti you use your words and not your fists," the man muttered. "Who is pregnant?"
"The Royal Concubine," Gabriel spat.
"That’s impossible," he said.
Gabriel’s shoulders heaved, his hands clenched. "Her pregnancy was announced at court today."
"And I’m telling you, Lord Gabriel... that... is... impossible."
"The enchantnt is strong," he added quickly, as if needing to convince himself. "No way she could conceive by the prince. No way. The spell was crafted to keep her barren to him, no matter how many tis they tried."
Gabriel didn’t answer imdiately. He just stared at the man, jaw clenched, mind racing. Because if the spell hadn’t failed...
Then soone had lied.
The implications made his stomach churn. If Seliora wasn’t truly pregnant... then what ga was she playing? And if she was pregnant... who the hell was the father?
"What are you saying, William?"
William stared at him with reluctant patience. He rubbed his jaw, which was already beginning to bruise from the earlier assault, and gave a long, dramatic sigh before answering.
"I’m saying if she truly carries a child..." William said, "it doesn’t belong to the prince."
Gabriel staggered back half a step. "Well," he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair, disheveling what was already a ss of glossy strands, "we have a problem still. Because if that is true, they’re going to pass the child off as the prince’s."
He paced the dusty floor now. His mind raced through possibilities, through every disastrous outco that now lood over him. It had taken centuries—centuries—to get this close, and now a single lie could unravel it all.
Behind him, William scowled. "Well, could you ask questions next ti before throwing around like a training dummy?" he snapped. "This human form is terrible."
Gabriel paused mid-step and exhaled. "Apologies," he said begrudgingly. "I just saw red. You know how long I’ve been waiting for this, William. A throne that should’ve been mine. I’ve watched Luciver rule like a pampered child. Now we’re getting werewolf queens, letting lesser vampires into Blood City—"
William’s sharp intake of breath and the withering glare he shot silenced Gabriel.
"I’m not referring to you," Gabriel added quickly. "You were born a true blood. You’ve every right to be here. Look what Luciver did to you."
But the apology was barely a balm on the old wound. William’s jaw clenched. He turned away from Gabriel and busied himself with rearranging the vials he’d nearly shattered.
)
"I don’t care about what Luciver did to ," he said quietly. "He played his role as king, whether I liked it or not. What I care about... is that the werewolves took the most important thing in my life." He slamd a bottle down, startling the rats in the corner. "And I am sitting here," he hissed, "waiting for orders."
Gabriel paused, mid-step, his body going rigid as if a spell had tightened around his spine. His lips parted slightly, the cogs in his mind grinding to a sudden, violent halt. He didn’t speak for a mont—just breathed.
"Then I think it’s ti," he said finally. "I need a reason. A public reason to contend with the throne. This—" he gestured to nothing and everything at once, "—this is it."
"It is ti for you to get your revenge, William. Prepare your n."
William’s lips peeled back into a slow, ecstatic smile. Finally. After so many nights in the shadows, it was finally ti.
He inclined his head slightly, the unspoken agreent now forged in fire. "I’ve been ready for centuries."
*****
Sage Veyron arrived at the prince’s castle.
The guards bowed low. He had sent a ssage earlier that morning, stating he was coming to offer his congratulations. The reply had been imdiate and personal.
"Do not co to the Royal Empire. Co to the house. She cannot know."
And that... had troubled him.
Why Damien still insisted on shielding the princess from the truth baffled him. She was strong, surely. And she loved the prince. But perhaps that was why he hid it.
Veyron was led through the arched corridor into the living area of the castle’s private quarters. Behind the marble bar, Damien stood in a simple black shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, forearms veined and tense. He was pouring himself a drink.
"Your highness," Veyron said, bowing respectfully.
"Sage Veyron," Damien replied without turning. He downed half the glass and finally looked up. "I gather you got word about my engagent."
"Yes, your highness. It is why I am here."
"Of course," Damien said. He set the glass down and reached for the bottle again. "Here to tell I’m being reckless? That proposing to her without telling her the clock is ticking on my life is a selfish, dood, tragic choice?"
"I wasn’t going to say all that," Veyron said diplomatically, stepping closer. "But since you brought it up..."
Damien groaned and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I just wanted one happy thing, Veyron. One goddamn happy thing before everything falls apart."
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