Chapter 8

The Blood Moon Gala wasn’t a party; it was an execution trap wrapped in fancy silk and flickering candles. The ballroom was packed with ancient, bloodthirsty nobles wearing masks of boredom, but I could smell the anticipation hanging in the air like the static before a thunderstorm.

They were all waiting for me to trip, waiting for the King’s "human pet" to make a mistake. Caius was glued to my side like a statue. He didn't touch me, but his presence was a literal wall, keeping the prowling courtiers at bay. He was dressed in some high-collared black brocade thing with silver webs that made him look like the predator he was.

"When the moon hits its peak," Caius whispered, his lips ghosting over my hair, "Valerius is going to make his move. He thinks the blood pact is a weak point during the full moon. He thinks he can cut our tether."

"And if he tries?" I asked, gripping my glass so hard my knuckles turned ghostly white.

"He’ll find out the hard way that the bond isn't just a tether," Caius said, his crimson eyes scanning the room with cold, sharp precision. "It’s a trap."

I kept an eye on Valerius across the floor. He was huddled with a group of old-school dissidents, their whispers sharp and frantic. They looked cocky as hell, practically buzzing over their upcoming coup. 

They had no idea I’d spent the last three days mapping every exit, every hidden hallway, and every guard I could bribe or knock out.

The music changed into some slow, creepy melody that sucked the air right out of the room. The massive skylight above us started bleeding crimson as the moonlight hit its zenith.

"It begins," Caius murmured.

Valerius stepped out of the shadows with a curved black dagger in his hand. Suddenly, the whole place went to hell. The guards loyal to the Traditionalists drew their weapons and circled us. The guests didn't even scream; they just watched, dying to see some blood.

"Kill the girl!" Valerius shouted, his voice bouncing off the high ceilings. "Once the pact is severed, the King has to submit!"

Caius didn't even flinch. He didn't reach for a weapon; he just stepped forward, his eyes burning with that terrifying, ancient light.

"You should've read the fine print, Valerius," Caius said, his voice dropping into a low, deadly boom.

I didn't wait for him to finish. I moved, yanking the small silver stiletto Caius had let me keep from the seam of my dress. I wasn't going for the guards. I dove under a blade, skidded across the floor, and drove the blade straight into the floorboards where Valerius had etched his little magic symbols.

The room let out a collective scream, not from pain, but from the magic snapping. The energy that was supposed to trap us got ripped out of the air and sucked back into the floor, surging straight toward Caius.

The traitorous guards dropped like puppets with their strings cut, crumpling under the magical backlash. Valerius stared at me, his eyes wide, pure terror dawning on his face. He finally got it: I wasn't the target. I was the fuse.

Caius was on him in a blur, his hand clamping around Valerius’s throat like a vice.

"You thought you were breaking a bond," Caius said, his voice cold enough to freeze a heart solid. "You were just opening the door for her to take the wheel."

He held him there, choking, a silent "don't you dare" to the rest of the cowering court.

I stood in the middle of the wreckage, my breath ragged and my dress torn, but I didn't care. I felt the pulse of the palace, the lifeblood of the whole estate humming under my skin. I looked at the nobles, the powerful, immortal monsters who had looked down on me and for the first time, I didn't see predators.

I saw prey.

"Is there anyone else?" I called out, my voice echoing through the trashed ballroom. "Anyone else who wants to challenge the Crimson Pact?" Not a soul breathed.

The silence was deafening, thick with the smell of ozone and straight-up panic. Valerius was clawing at Caius’s grip, his face going gray, but he couldn't make a sound. The rest of the court was frozen, their arrogance dead and buried.

Caius looked at me, and there was no kingly ego left in his eyes just a raw, hungry intensity. He shoved Valerius toward the center of the floor, where the traitor landed in a pathetic, broken heap.

"The coup is over," Caius announced, his voice like a funeral bell. "Valerius and his lot are exiled to the Sunless Wastes. Any of you left who want to dispute this union? Step up."

The nobles kept their eyes on the floor. They were ancient, sure, but they were cowards who loved their own skin more than their traditions. One by one, they bowed, the sound of their robes hissing against the marble like a nest of vipers.

I walked toward them, my heels clicking like gunshots on the stone. I stopped in front of the kneeling crowd, looking right at the faces of the people who’d been whispering for my death all night. I didn't feel like the scared girl kidnapped from a rainy road anymore. I felt lethal.

"You wanted a human," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet. "You wanted a sacrificial lamb for your traditions. You got me instead."

I turned to Caius. He was watching me with this possessive, wild kind of awe. He walked over, his movements fluid and predatory, and took my hand. His palm was warm—a physical reminder of the bond that had been reforged in the middle of all this chaos.

"The palace is ours," he whispered, his eyes glowing with that dark, triumphant fire. "But the court is still a viper's nest. They’ll wait. They’ll watch for any crack."

"Let them watch," I replied, meeting his eyes dead-on. "We’ll be the ones holding the hammer."

As the gala wrapped up, the nobles scrambled for the exits, desperate to get away from their changed King and his new, unpredictable Queen. Caius led me away from the mess, through the dark, winding corridors until we hit the privacy of his quarters.

The doors shut, sealing us in. The room was silent, a massive shift from the violence outside.

Caius turned to me, the mask finally slipping. He looked exhausted, the weight of centuries showing for once. He reached out, his fingers tracing my jaw, his touch surprisingly soft.

"You were incredible tonight," he murmured.

"I did what I had to," I said, leaning into him. "But listen, I’m not playing by their rules anymore, Caius. And I’m not playing by yours either."

He let out a low, raspy chuckle. "I never expected you to, Andrea. That’s why you’re my Queen."

I looked at him, realizing that for all the blood, the pacts, and the monsters, I wasn't a prisoner of his design anymore. I was the one holding the leash now. The night was over, but the reign was just getting started.