Filed to story: Two Vampire Brides (Vera & Lucien) Book PDF Free
Confusion flashed across Caelen’s face. “What? No, that’s not-” He broke off, coughing. The doctor hurried forward with blood wine, helping him drink. When he could speak again, his eyes were clearer, his voice stronger. “I was assigned to you, Vera. As an advisor.”
“Assigned?” I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. “By whom?”
“The Council,” he admitted, shame coloring his words. “They wanted someone close to you, someone who could report back on your… stability.”
The truth hit like a physical blow. All those conversations, those quiet moments when I’d thought he was the one person who saw me as just Vera-had it all been a lie?
“So you were spying on me.” My voice came out flat, emotionless, though inside I was screaming.
“At first,” he confessed, meeting my gaze steadily. “But things changed. I changed. I started refusing to tell them certain things. Started feeding them half-truths instead of full reports.”
“Why should we believe anything you say?” Lucien interjected, moving to stand beside me. His presence was like ice at my back, familiar and foreign all at once.
Caelen’s eyes hardened as he looked at Lucien. “Because unlike some, I didn’t abandon her when things got difficult.”
The barb found its mark. I felt Lucien stiffen beside me.
“That doesn’t explain why someone tried to kill you,” Father cut in, his patience clearly wearing thin.
Caelen sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. “When I stopped being useful, I became a liability. I knew too much about their plans, about how they intended to control Vera through me, or remove her entirely if that failed.”
“Who is ‘they’?” I demanded, leaning closer. “Give me names, Caelen.”
“The same vampires who’ve been whispering about the dangers of a Blood Princess for centuries,” he replied. “The ones who fear what you represent, change, power they can’t control.”
“Names,” Father repeated, his voice like steel.
Caelen’s eyes darted to Alrik, who was standing unnaturally still by the door. “Some are in this very room.”
Alrik’s hand moved to his silver blade. “Watch your accusations, fledgling.”
“Or what?” I challenged, rising to my feet. The golden light beneath my skin pulsed in response to my anger. “You’ll arrange another ‘accident’?”
“Vera,” Father warned, but I was beyond heeding caution.
“Was it you, Alrik?” I took a step toward him, satisfaction coursing through me when he took a corresponding step back. “Did you orchestrate the attack? Is that why you were so quick to blame me? To blame Lucien?”
“You’re delusional,” Alrik sneered, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Fear.
“Am I?” I pressed. “Or am I finally seeing clearly? You’ve been at my father’s side for decades, perfectly positioned to gather information, to influence decisions.”
“Your Majesty,” Alrik appealed to my father. “Surely you don’t believe these baseless accusations? The girl is clearly unstable, just as we’ve feared.”
“The girl,” Father said slowly, “is my daughter and your future queen. Address her with respect.”
I felt a surge of gratitude toward my father, unexpected and powerful.
“I was given a choice,” Caelen continued, drawing our attention back to him. “Continue to spy on you or face elimination. I chose neither. That’s when they decided I was more useful as a martyr than a spy.”
“A martyr?” I echoed.
“My death at the hands of assassins, with you nearby, would have been convenient. Evidence of your inability to protect even those closest to you. Another reason to question your fitness to rule.”
The pieces were falling into place, a puzzle I hadn’t even known I was solving. Every slight, every whispered doubt about my capability, every ‘coincidental’ failure, all orchestrated. Also about how Caelen was brought in, to be by my side always. They were all orchestrated.
“Why take the bolt then?” Lucien asked, skepticism evident in his tone. “If you knew they wanted you dead, why play into their hands?”
Caelen’s laugh was bitter. “Because the alternative was watching Vera die. Whatever you think of me, whatever I was sent to do, I couldn’t let that happen.”
I searched his face for deception and found none, only a raw honesty that made my chest ache.
“So when you told me you were interested in me…” I began.
“I meant it,” he said firmly. “Every word. That wasn’t part of any assignment, Vera. That was real.”
“How am I supposed to know what’s real anymore?” I whispered.
“Because I’m telling you now,” he said, struggling to sit up further. “I’m telling you everything. I could have taken that secret to my grave, but I chose to trust you with it.”
“Names,” Father demanded for the third time. “Who sent you? Who ordered the assassination?”
Caelen opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, the clinic door burst open. A guard stumbled in, his face ashen.
“Your Majesty! Come quickly, it’s Lord Alrik!”
I turned just in time to see that Alrik had disappeared from the room.
VERA’S POV
I followed the commotion to the great hall, pushing through the crowd that had gathered. What I saw stopped me cold.
Alrik lay sprawled on the marble floor, blood pooling beneath him, bubbling from his lips with each labored breath. Father knelt beside him, his expression grim. Lucien stood a few paces back, his face unreadable.
“What happened?” I demanded, dropping to my knees opposite my father.
“Poison,” Father replied tersely. “He collapsed moments after fleeing the clinic.”
Alrik’s eyes found mine, wide with panic and something else, resignation. He clutched at Father’s sleeve with bloodstained fingers.
“I didn’t-” he gasped, blood spraying with each word. “I didn’t want this.”
“Save your strength,” Father ordered, but we all knew it was too late. The poison was working too quickly, his skin already taking on a grayish hue.
“They promised…” Alrik continued, desperate to speak despite the blood filling his lungs. “Promised me power. When she…when she took the throne.”
“Who promised?” Father demanded. “Who was behind this?”
Alrik’s eyes rolled wildly. “Tried to…poison Caelen. Keep him quiet. But I took…wrong cup.” A bitter laugh escaped him, ending in a wet cough. “Poetic. Justice.”
His gaze locked with mine one last time, hatred and fear warring in their depths.
Then, with a final, rattling breath, Alrik went still. The light faded from his eyes, leaving nothing but empty shells staring up at the vaulted ceiling.
Silence fell over the great hall, heavy and oppressive. I didn’t realize I was trembling until Lucien’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, steadying me.
“He confessed,” Father said quietly, rising to his feet. “But he died before naming his co-conspirators.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, staring down at Alrik’s body. “They’ve shown their hand now. They won’t stop just because they’ve lost their inside man.”
Father’s eyes met mine, something like pride flickering in their depths. “No, they won’t. Which means neither can we.”
Hours after Alrik’s corpse had been removed from the great hall, I could still smell his blood in my nostrils.
Father summoned me to his private chambers as dawn broke over the mountains. The Conclave attendees had been confined to their quarters, the compound locked down tighter than a prison. No one in, no one out until we sorted through this mess.
I knocked once on the heavy obsidian door, the sound echoing down the empty corridor.
“Enter.”
I pushed the door open to find Father standing by the window, silhouetted against the pink-gold light of sunrise. He didn’t turn when I entered, his gaze fixed on something in the distance.
“Is Caelen stable?” he asked.
“The doctor says he’ll recover,” I replied, closing the door behind me. “The silver was diluted, meant to weaken, not kill.”
“And Lucien?”
I hesitated. Lucien had disappeared shortly after Alrik’s death, taking his coven forces with him. No goodbye, no explanation. Just gone, like smoke in the wind. Typical.
“He left,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “Said he needed to track down the rest of the assassins before they scattered.”
Father nodded, unsurprised. “He always did prefer the hunt to the aftermath.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between us. I perched on the edge of a chair, waiting. Father had never been one to rush a conversation, especially a difficult one.
Finally, he turned from the window. The lines on his face seemed deeper than they had been yesterday, the silver at his temples more pronounced. For the first time, I saw my father as others must, not just the Vampire King, but a man worn thin by centuries of rule.
“You’re wondering why I summoned you,” he said, moving to the carved desk that dominated the room.
“I assume it has something to do with Alrik’s betrayal,” I replied. “Or the assassins. Or the fact that half the Conclave probably wants me dead.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Your mother had the same gift for understatement.”
The mention of my mother sent a familiar pang through my chest.
“What’s our next move?” I asked, leaning forward. “We can’t keep the Conclave leaders locked down forever.”
