Shadow's Claim

Chapter 48

When Trehan registered her dumbfounded expression, hope bloomed in his chest.

Then logic reminded him that she and Caspion had the means, the motive, the opportunity. You reach, because you want her so badly. “If not you and the demon, then who would dare?”

She cried, “How about your cousins? The ones who are always trying to kill you!”

“They would never do something so dishonorable.”

“But you think I would?”

In a singsong tone, Salem said at his ear: “You’re both wrong.”

“Sylph! You followed Bettina here?” And remained? When I was about to take her?

“I’d morphed wiv her collar a split second before your mist came. Then I figured you were goin’ to nab her, so I tagged along to make sure you wouldn’t hurt her.” The being shimmered around the room as if excited. “Do you know how long I’ve been wantin’ to come here?”

Bettina looked as mystified as Trehan felt. “Salem, how are we both wrong? Who did it?”

“The vampire’s squire! Not twenty minutes ago, another phantom told me he’d heard the young vamp brag about mickeying Daciano’s carafe of blood.” Salem addressed Trehan as he said, “Seems the Horde lord you killed in the melee was his sire. The little bugger couldn’t murder you outside the ring, but he could hamstring you before a match so Caspion could take your head.”

The bloody squire poisoned me? That soon-to-be-dead vampire?

Not Bettina, then.

Trehan’s eyes widened, and his heart began to thud. Not Bettina! “This news is . . . welcome,” he choked out in utter understatement. “Now, begone from here.”

Salem chuckled. “Right you are, Your Kingness. Commencing me tour of the Realm of Blood and Mist—”

“I didn’t mean into the kingdom!”

Salem was already gone. And Trehan couldn’t stay angry, not with all the relief he felt.

In a quiet voice, Bettina said, “You truly thought I could do something like that to you?”

He traced to the edge of the bed, sitting beside her, just preventing himself from dragging her over his lap. “Bettina, I am sorry. I thought the demon had influenced you.”

She pulled her knees to her chest and turned away. “Cas wanted to defeat you on his own. He believed he could, until you went crazy.”

She will never forgive this. “I . . . didn’t know.”

“That night, I had just realized that I was feeling something deeper for you than I’d ever felt before,” she said softly, sadly—as if she was speaking about something long lost, never to be found again. “I saw that you had been poisoned, and I thought I was saving your life.” She gave a humorless laugh. “I believed I was finally going to be able to help.”

She’d wanted only to save me? He tried to speak past the lump in his throat. Couldn’t.

“I’d recognized that Cas was nothing more than my best friend—one I will always treasure. I’d accepted that what I felt for you was completely different. But then you turned around and humiliated both Cas and me.”

So we’d gotten past the demon at last, and I fucked my chances?

She continued, “I’d pointed out that you were about to get everything and asked you not to hurt him. But I guess consideration for us went out the window when you suspected me of poisoning you.”

He flinched.

“My coronation was a misery. Everyone had accepted you as their king, so when you forsook me, they thought there must’ve been a good reason!”

She’d already felt like an imposter in Abaddon, and he’d made it that much worse for her. “Bettina . . .” How to explain what had been going on in his mind? When even now he could hardly think? Instinct was riding him hard.

“I’ve been able to ‘rehabilitate’ my image, but Cas wasn’t so fortunate. He was shunned, forced to leave. He’s gone to the Plane of Lost Years.”

Then he’d gone to hell. I have definitely fucked my chances with her. How to make amends? How to—

Gaze narrowing, Trehan reached for the crystal around his neck, yanking it free. “This will be his.”

She faced him. “Pardon?”

“Caspion is a tracker? Consider this amends.”

“You’d do that?” She tilted her head. “When it’s been passed down through your house?” Trehan took her hand and placed the crystal in her palm, closing her delicate fingers over it.

Bettina stared down at the crystal, then up at Daciano. She had never seen a male look so anguished, as if he’d been gutted and was slowly expiring. “Vampire, I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t accept this,” she said, returning it to him. “Please put it back on.”

Brows drawn, he reluctantly did, his bemusement seeming to deepen—as if she’d rejected him anew.

“I’m only saying that you should think about a decision like this.”

“Think? Bettina, I can’t think. Since my blooding, logic and reason have vanished. As I said, all I can do is feel. And I’ve very little experience . . . feeling.”

“What happened between the morning after we made love and that twilight in the tent?”

“I don’t know how to explain myself, or even if it’s possible.”

“Try.”

“During the tournament, there’d been much . . . pressure,” he began haltingly. “It continued to build.”

“What kind of pressure?”

“Over that week, I experienced your attack firsthand, and it filled me with unimaginable wrath. And yet I could only murder and torture your foes once. I was expected to slay Goürlav—but not to injure him. I’d believed that I would fight Caspion to the death—and that I would lose you if I survived. Then, when we made love, I denied . . . instincts.”

His instinct to bite. Just as Sabine had said.

“I’d lost blood against the primordial and continued to deteriorate over the day. Then you appeared, and you showed such concern for Caspion. I thought I’d been doing everything right to win you from him—denying myself, toiling for the future, trying to earn your affection.”

She was aware of how hard he had worked and all the miraculous feats he’d accomplished in such a short time. He’d been under enough pressure to make twenty Dacians snap. Even now he wasn’t physically well, obviously hadn’t been drinking enough to sustain himself.

“The jealousy maddened me. You were right—I wasn’t hearing you. I can see that now. Even the mere mention of his name enraged me.”

“Why? I thought I made it clear that he was my friend. And I . . . I made love to you, Trehan. Surely you understood how I felt about you. I believed we were getting married in hours.”

“I see it now, but gods, I couldn’t then! The jealousy . . . Always I remembered our first night together. Always I could see how you would be with Caspion, could see exactly what he would enjoy if you ever went to him. It made me crazed. . . .” He trailed off, clenching his jaw.

She tried to imagine what he’d gone through. How would she feel if Trehan had welcomed her into his bed, yet then she discovered that his every touch and kiss had been intended for another?

Jealousy scalded her at the mere thought.

“Then, in the fight, when I realized I’d been poisoned, I remembered that you’d handed me that goblet. I concluded that you were in league with Caspion.” He clasped his forehead. “I believed that you would wed him and that I’d lost you forever. I wanted to punish him for winning you. I couldn’t handle the idea of not having you,” he said, adding in a mutter, “any better than I can now.”

“If I’d let you drink from me, would you have reacted differently?”

“This is in no way your fault. It was mine.”

“But would you have suffered that confusion and aggression?”

“No matter my condition, how could I have suspected you?”

How? She sighed. Probably because I had a poison ring, a poison arsenal, a smoking-gun goblet in my hand, and my best friend in the ring with you.

Suddenly his hand shot out, palm gripping the back of her neck. “Bettina, I thought . . . I truly thought that I was doing everything right. I want only to do right by you.”

And with those laden words, Bettina recognized that this wasn’t over between them. Her grief from losing him started to evaporate.

She began to view their circumstances in a completely new light. Cas was alive, Bettina was a free queen in her own right, empowered in more ways than one—and this gorgeous, sexy Dacian looked as if he was barely restraining himself from pulling her beneath him and kissing her until she decided to keep him.

And she would keep him.

I want him above all things. These days, Bettina of Abaddon got what she wanted.