Chapter 80 Thirst Hall
❀ Maeve ❀
My laden feet complained with every pacing step around Nikolai’s chambers.
Unsurprisingly, I’d cried myself to sleep the previous night, after my supposed mate had kissed me senseless, then bailed.
Sleep had been desperate, deep, but fitful. A feeling of being watched had persevered even through my dreams.
Either Nikolai, Drusilla, or even Lilith must’ve come into the room.
Gods knew these vampires had no notion of privacy, tracing wherever and whenever they liked.
Slowing my pacing at the tightly shuttered window, I couldn’t even tell the time of day.
I contemplated forcing it open, but if I flooded the vampire’s room with sunlight, he could trace in and burn to ash before I got answers.
He wasn’t allowed to die before I got my answers.
I still had on my white dress, caked with blood, witness to the crazy past day I’d had. Only now, it felt tighter around the bust and waist.
Food and sleep had healed me even more, filling out my flesh.
The little progress my overwhelmed mind must’ve made had been wiped clean by that meeting with the matrons.
But at least the rage had waned, and the hunger I felt was for food. Not blood.
I shivered.
My arms wrapped around my chest as I stared at the shuttered window where precious, soothing light should’ve been.
Queen Lyssa. Myself. The Crimson Stone.
Drusilla, my… aunt?
I’d always had the worst luck in lore.
Everywhere I found myself, there was a shocking revelation or two, and a couple individuals who’d just love to have my head.
The memory of my blood fogging on that stone made me shudder. Would I dare believe what they’d said?
That I was Queen Lyssa’s daughter, and the next chosen queen?
A queen?!
My chest constricted.
Rage, my own, flared hot in my chest.
How dare they box me in like this? Starve me, threaten me, rock my world this way?
I didn’t ask for any of this.
I just wanted my mates.
If Drusilla hadn’t wanted to kill me enough for being a wolf mated to her precious progeny, she’d definitely murder me now.
Chills raced over my skin as I remembered Nikolai’s words.
Drusilla, the unchosen elder sister, regent for twenty years. She’d fought to destroy Lyssa’s misplaced blood, hoping the Crimson Stone would choose her to be queen.
She’d even prepared a fail-safe. She was with child.
The few times I’d been around her, I’d heard a second, fainter heartbeat. Her baby.
Just by arriving, I’d dashed her dreams and her mission.
And Nikolai? That frustratingly flighty vampire? I’d expected relief, to shed some pressure through his touch, his love.
But he’d left me. No doubt to convene with his sire and discuss my future.
I scoffed.
As if I’d sit back and let them control my life.
Everything happening only gave me more reason to want to leave Veilmoor, with or without Nikolai.
A ripping sound broke the stony silence. I tore my soiled dress off, sighing at the relief and cool air on my skin.
And Mother. I scowled.
If the vampires and their matrons, or wardens, and stone were to be trusted, she’d lied to me my whole life. She wasn’t… my real mother.
I swallowed back the choked sound that nearly escaped my lips.
No wonder she’d found it easy to abandon me.
People always found it so easy to abandon me, didn’t they?
I stood naked in the room, almost moaning at the promise of hot water in the bath.
If I could trace, I’d materialize right inside the tub, let scalding sprays wash away these thoughts and the blood.
Speaking of, which begged the question, why couldn’t I?
I could drain like a vampire. I’d experienced the rage inherited from my supposed mother, Lyssa. I’d probably survived starvation because of a vampire side—
I shook my head hard. I’d think about that later.
Right now, I needed a boiling hot bath to distract my body and mind. Because for the life of me, my nipples still pebbled every time my thoughts strayed to Nikolai.
I’d have given anything to have him last night. My body felt full of pent-up pressure, aggression, desire.
I needed an outlet. But one mate was babysitting an ailing alpha, and the other was doing Gods-knew-what.
Oh, to be able to trace.
Then no one—no one—would be able to keep me captive like a stable mare at their leisure.
I turned to go to the bathroom the old-fashioned way, on my own two feet—
The door opened softly.
So quietly I only felt the faint draft.
My hackles rose as I caught a familiar scent tied to a bitter memory.
Without turning, I knew it was the human from last time. Jessica.
“Milady… ah, um… Your Grace?” Her voice wavered.
I sighed at the intrusion. What did the vegetarian feeder want now?
Then another scent hit me.
Braised mushrooms in goat stew? Steaming coconut bread?
My head spun so fast it was a hazard.
I reached the startled mortal and her immense food tray before remembering I was stark naked.
But I didn’t care.
My mouth watered, eyes locked on the bounty.
“Set it down. Right there.”
She hurriedly obliged, then stepped back, shoulders hunched, eyes to the floor.
“If you need anything else, Your Grace, I’m well-fed and healthy. I can also adjust my diet to cater to your—”
“I don’t want your blood,” I snapped.
Unconsciously, I stole a glance at her neck. Old, shiny pinpoints of scars littered her skin, but none looked recent.
My face flushed as I remembered nearly falling upon her when I’d been starved.
But given the choice, I didn’t think I’d ever want blood, except Nikolai’s.
Naked and unwashed, silvery hair wild around my shoulders, I dug in.
I wondered how Jessica saw me.
She’d called me by a title, which meant gossip had definitely spread. The entire vampire population probably knew they now had a queen or something.
Too bad. I’d be escaping the first chance I got. Drusilla could keep her throne.
I had a Princess Consort seat I was perfectly content with.
Feral alpha or not.