Page 164 of Claimed

Valentin’s growl arrives instantly.

I pat his chest. ‘No. Let me enjoy a title for three seconds before you menace people.’

‘Little queen,’ he says, tasting the phrase with dangerous displeasure.

‘Be nice.’

‘I am rarely nice.’

‘Try.’

His eyes narrow. And through the bond comes the outrageous effort of Valentin Moretti considering manners.

The room is saved from the impossible spectacle by another presence pushing at the edge of the bloodline.

Malachi.

I feel him because Valentin feels him. Distant. Ashamed. Careful in a way the man has never been careful around me.

Sire.

Valentin’s entire body goes cold. Every vampire in the Vault feels it. Malachi’s voice through the bond carries no polish now.

I ask permission to speak.

Valentin’s answer is frost. Denied.

A pause. Then Malachi, quieter. Sire. I failed you. I failed your mate. I⁠—

Permission denied. Try again in one year, Valentin says.

The bond to Malachi shuts and the finality of it rings through the Vault.

No one speaks.

Draven does not reach out. If he’s awake, he chooses the wisdom of silence. I have no idea how the Sunless Crypt works and am honestly fine never learning firsthand.

I touch Valentin’s wrist. ‘You’ll let Malachi try again in a year?’

‘If you wish me to wait two, continue looking at me like that.’

‘That was almost merciful.’

‘I am celebrating.’

‘By emotionally maiming your lieutenant?’

‘Yes.’

Luca makes a strangled sound. I look over Valentin’s shoulder. ‘You okay back there?’

‘Never better,’ Luca says faintly. ‘This is all very moving and terrifying.’

Rowan rises. ‘Speaking of terrifying, you need to call your blood brothers before one of them senses this shift and does something stupid.’

Valentin’s mouth curves.

Ah.