Bonds of the Vampire King (Blood Fire Saga Book 7) by Bella Klaus (reading e books .txt) 📕

arms folded across their chests, looking as though the butler couldn’t possibly be referring to them.

“Your Highnesses?” asked Caiman.

Constantine’s blond brows rose.

“You are in the presence of His Majesty’s soulmate,” the butler said, his voice tight. “Which, as you know, is a connection deeper than marriage.”

I shifted on my feet, trying not to think about the wider implications of the soul bond I shared with Kresnik. It was bad enough to have been attacked by my own father, but marriage? I shuddered.

“Fine.” Sylvester slammed the handle of the trident into the stone steps and turned around.

Constantine and Ferdinand followed, and Caiman held up my cloak and lowered his eyes. After pulling back my magic, I turned around, slipped my arms into the garment, and let the butler place it over my shoulders.

“His Majesty has taken the liberty of filling the queen’s dressing room with your clothing,” said Caiman.

“Thank you.” I placed my hand on the butler’s shoulder and offered him a warm smile.

“His Majesty told me about the damage done to your memory prior to the ball.” The ancient vampire’s voice rasped with regret. “For what it’s worth, I am deeply sorry for my part in the hurt you suffered.”

Something in my chest loosened. Maybe it was the knowledge that Valentine’s closest allies had accepted me as his mate. Maybe it was because for once, since the day we were engaged, I stood on their side against an enemy.

I met Caiman’s watery eyes. “It means a lot to hear those words, even though they aren’t necessary.”

The butler turned his gaze to Beowulf. “Is there something I can help you with, Your Majesty?”

“King Valentine needed a favor.”

“Indeed.”

“I need to take Kain somewhere out of Logris,” I said for the benefit of anyone listening, including Prince Draconius, who could have doubled back and hidden himself anywhere on the palace grounds.

“Will you both follow me?” Caiman ascended the stairs. “One of the staff will park your motorcycle while we prepare Master Kain for his departure.”

Beowulf and I followed the butler up the stairs in silence, heading toward the palace’s double doors. I kept my gaze high, making sure to avoid eye contact with the trio of vampire princes who had attacked me on more than one occasion. After all the accusations they’d hurled at me over the months, I wasn’t ready to believe their attitude toward me had changed.

Sylvester was the first to approach. “Mera?”

I continued up the stairs. “Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said without a trace of sarcasm.

“It looks like we should have listened to you when you said you could help Valentine,” Constantine said.

“He was even more miserable without you this time than before,” added Ferdinand.

Memories of being hunted around a mausoleum by four rabid vampires assaulted my mind. Their taunting laughter, their grabbing hands, along with their cruel accusations and insults. Part of me wanted to lash out at the princes and rage at them for their part in delaying Valentine’s return, but it looked like they were trying to make a connection.

That didn’t mean I’d let them off easy.

I paused, casting my gaze over Constantine and then Sylvester and then Ferdinand. The red-haired vampire stiffened as though expecting a rebuke.

“The first few times we met, you were under the influence of the blood lure, but do you know how much of this mess you could have avoided by giving me a chance?”

Ferdinand was the first to lower his head. Constantine’s lips tightened, his gaze dropping to my shoulder, but Sylvester met my eyes.

“When Valentine’s memories settled, he brought us all into his study and told us that we could have helped you unlock your magic that evening and brought him to life by the morning,” Sylvester said, his voice heavy.

“Because of us, you both fell into a trap that resulted in all the political upheaval we suffered in Lamia,” said Ferdinand.

“And you would never have gone to the Flame,” added Constantine.

My lips tightened. Aurora and Father Jude would have found a way to steal my magic, or they would have used someone else’s power for Kresnik’s resurrection, and he still would have come after me.

“We’re sorry,” Constantine said.

“All of you?” I asked.

Sylvester stepped forward, making me move closer to Beowulf. “Our behavior toward you was as unseemly as it was unfair. Especially mine.”

I met his pale eyes, my lips parted with a question.

“If I had declared my claim to the throne, I could have overridden the Council’s authority and questioned you in the palace,” he said, breathing hard. “Because of my failure to act, Lamia turned to turmoil and our grandfather sent Uncle Draconius to deal with the unrest.”

My gaze drifted to Ferdinand, who stuttered an apology.

“Repay me with that trident,” I said.

Sylvester frowned at the object before pulling it out of the marble and offering it to me. “It’s probably a replica.”

“That doesn’t matter.” I wrapped my fingers around its shaft, feeling a thrum of magic that made my stomach churn. “It might be handy for a plan Valentine and I have been concocting.”

“My Lady?” said Caiman from the top of the stairs.

I turned to Beowulf, who nodded. “Let’s go.”

Caiman settled Beowulf into a mahogany paneled waiting room full of leather chairs while I continued with him to Valentine’s royal suite—an entire wing of the palace where he dwelled with Kain and Macavity. It was about the size of the derelict mansion, with a grand entrance of marble floors leading to a ten-foot-wide staircase that ran up to its first floor.

I’d been here several times before during our courtship, but the sight of the bronze statues along the handrail, holding up candelabras toward the arched ceilings never failed to make my breath catch.

“My Lady?” Caiman asked.

“It’s nothing.” I continued up the stairs, holding its carved handrail for balance. How many times over the years had I dreamed of this place, this Beauty-and-the-Beast-style palace with its marble columns and decorative moldings that could have been straight out of the Palace of Versailles?

I’d lost count.

We turned left at the