Page 9 of Tempted By the Vampire Prince

I set my hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “Let’s return to our stargazing.”

“I thought you were going to make an appearance at the party, Your Grace,” Severin interjected. “They’re all expecting you.”

I shook my head, looking one more time down the road where she had disappeared. Lamenting that I didn’t ask for her name.

“Do you think we’ll see her again?” Adrien asked.

I turned my attention to the bronze statue of Maris and Rosa that stood at the mouth of the harbor, between a break in the seawall. They depicted the lost Goddesses of the Tide and Wind, who had gone missing over a thousand years ago. Piles of fresh flowers and shells sat at the base of the pedestal—offerings for their return.

“Come,” I said. “You need to write to Uncle Marius and tell him all about your discovery.”

Chapter 3

Trinquons

CORA

Igrabbed two fistfuls of my black skirt and twisted it, wringing out seawater onto the street. I couldn’t believe he was a vampire. What kind of vampire had a neck tattoo of a half-naked woman and a gold hoop earring?

I’d been approximately four seconds away from asking a vampire to have a drink with me. And not just any vampire, but the Duke of Valemer. Who had a child and a mate and an entire castle.

The God of the Underworld had done me a genuine favor by sending that little boy racing down the quay when he did, preserving what little dignity I had left. I wouldn’t have even been in the water had it not been for Mama’s ghost. And because of her antics, I’d nearly drowned.

I groaned and pressed my palm to my forehead.

Stupid, stupid, Cora.

While I stewed in my frustration and embarrassment, I pulled the jacket tighter around my shoulders, and my attention snapped down.

For the love of Damien. I’d forgotten to give back his jacket.

I pressed my nose into the soft wool collar before I could stop myself. It smelled like oak and earth and something subtly sweet underneath. Wine, I realized. Good wine. Not the swill they served at Widow Martell’s Pub.

Della tapped one of the gold buttons on his jacket with her beak.

“I should pluck them off and sell them,” I told her.

I admired one of the gold buttons on the cuff, which was embossed with a lily.

Much like my raven, I had an appreciation for pretty, shiny things. Della liked buttons, and I liked handsome men. But it wasn’t just the duke’s pretty package that had caught my attention. No. There was something about him. Something in the way he looked at me. Like he wanted more than to see me naked. But to know me.

I let out a sigh. “Fine, you can keep the buttons.”

A percussive crack split the night air, and it sent my heart straight into my throat. On reflex, I pulled my wand from my pocket, only to realize it was just another damned firework. The streets flooded with red light, turning the puddles at my feet an arterial crimson.

I leaned against the brick building behind me, resting my head against the rough surface, and watched the sparkles turn into acrid clouds of smoke. Reminding myself that I was safe. I was powerful. No one was coming to hurt me. No one in this town even knew who I was. With trembling hands, I stuffed my wand back in my pocket, but kept my fingers curled around it, just in case.

No one would ever truly know me, I promised myself. I wouldn’t let them. Not after…

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memories hit like a second firework. Puddles of blood. Lifeless bodies. I covered my mouth, holding back a sob, while unshed tears burned in my eyes.

It wasn’t my fault. They could’ve been the ones to stop her. They could’ve said it was madness. They didn’t have to follow her orders mindlessly.

The reminder kept the tears at bay, but it didn’t stop the pain. I might be a Witch of the Darkness, but there was no spell to heal the hole in my heart. The one that had been ripped open that night.

After taking a few measured breaths, I managed to banish the memories back to wherever they lived inside me, and forced myself to wring out another section of my skirt. Deciding that I was dry enough, I left the shadowy corner I’d taken refuge in, and continued in the direction of the tavern Della and I were staying above. White shells and bits of coral tied to iron lampposts chimed with each gust of wind.

Gods. This place was unbearably charming.