Shadow's Claim

Chapter 41

Still shaken by Daciano’s behavior, Bettina had found Raum and hastily explained the clause. He’d been bemused but accepting, deferring to her in everything—as if she were already queen.

As if he couldn’t wait to have another rule. It was a little unnerving.

Next, Bettina set out to find Cas, locating him near the entrance to the sanctum. His rowdy friends were pumping him up, punching his torso as they yelled encouragement: “Gut that fucking leech!” “A pair of fangs to start your collection!” They rammed his horns, spurring his aggression, his instinctive need for a fresh kill.

“I have to talk to you, Cas.”

He traced over. “What is it? I’m about to go in.”

There was no easy way to put this. “What if I told you there was a mercy clause in the rules, an out for one of the contestants?”

“What are you talking about?”

“If Daciano gets you at sword point, then I can plead mercy, sparing your life. But it will disqualify you from the tournament.”

Cas’s eyes went wild. “Don’t you dare use that for me!”

“Just wait—”

“Do you think I have no honor?”

“It isn’t like that!”

Gripping her arm, he traced her out of earshot of his friends. “I was born with nothing—I’ve worked so damned hard to get where I am, risking my life again and again. Would you cut me down just when I’m at my highest? You would humiliate me like that?”

“You’re my best friend. I can’t let you die.”

“Don’t do this.” He pinched his forehead. “I think . . . I think I would grow to hate you.”

“Hate? Do you really want this to be the end of your life? To die at twenty-five? For a female you’re not even in love with?”

“Tina, I know you’ve gotten attached to the vampire. Dear gods, I can scent him on you.”

She flushed, averting her gaze.

“But I would rather die with honor than lose that way.”

“I won’t let that happen. I have watched round after round, sitting helpless on the sidelines while you and the vampire risked your lives. At last I can do something to help you.”

“Help me—against him of all people? Daciano?”

Yes, Salem, apparently I was deluding myself about them. She’d never known two males who hated each other so bitterly—and who had so little reason to.

“Worry more for him, sorceress!” Cas snapped, angrier than she’d ever seen him. “I will take him out. I cannot lose.”

Where was this confidence coming from? “Did you not witness the vampire against the primordial? Be realistic. Daciano has so many years on you.”

“That won’t matter, not when I use his weakness against him.”

“What weakness? He doesn’t have any.”

“Everyone has a weakness,” Cas insisted. “You must let this play out! I’m a death demon fighting for my honor—I’m going to prove myself to all of them!”

“He’s a thousand-year-old Dacian fighting for his fated Bride. I got you into this, Cas. I’m going to do what I have to in order to get you out of it.” With that, she left him to his friends, a pack of demons yelling for Cas to slay a vampire.

Trehan had regretted his harsh words almost as soon as he’d said them. He’d returned to the tent, but Bettina had already gone.

She’d accused him of not hearing her, and she was likely right. Just the mention of that demon’s name had sent him into a rage.

He exhaled a long breath. He should have explained his situation to her:

I am exhausted, Bettina, drained of blood, and my mind is not well. Today, I’ve learned that Dacia will definitely have a new king, and for the first time in a millennium, I am certain it won’t be me. I’ve made sacrifices to have a life with you, and so I unreasonably expected you to bow to my will without question.

He would tell her this tonight before the ceremony, smoothing things over. And once they were wed, he would take her repeatedly, savoring more of the bliss she’d given him last night. At the memory of her abandon, even his blood-starved body stirred for more.

Except for her hesitation over his bite, she’d surrendered herself fully, satisfying him in untold ways. The final time he’d taken her, he’d gazed down at her face and a truth had struck him: Bettina este viaţă.

Bettina is life. He could never go back to the way he was before.

Tonight, after he’d claimed his wife, he would force himself to drink and sleep, and then finally his thoughts would clear. They can’t get worse.

Nothing made sense today. His temper lay ever at the ready, his mood foul. His body was weakened, his head dizzy. Something is off with me.

Was it because he hadn’t marked her? According to the physiology book, a vampire needed to pierce his mate.

But he wasn’t just a vampire. He was still Dacian.

Right now, he wished he wasn’t. Trehan never would have thought that he’d envy a maddened red-eyed vampire like Lothaire, one who’d apparently taken his Bride’s neck as he’d claimed her.

Binding her to him. Lothaire obeyed instinct; Trehan resisted it.

The Enemy of Old was healing; I’m backsliding.

Trehan felt . . . ill. His throat burned, and his tongue seemed thick, sticking to the roof of his mouth. His lightheadedness was turning into a pounding headache, even as numbness spread through his limbs.

Just get this fight over with. Everything he desired, everything that belonged to him, was there for the taking. He was so godsdamned close, only needed to go seize it.

He gazed in the direction of the ring. My prize awaits with widened eyes.

Ready for his match, Trehan squared his shoulders, the movement sending him atilt.

He realized something was definitely wrong . . . when he traced to the sanctum . . . and collided face-first into a wall.