The Vampire Lord's Permission Came Too Late

The bell at St. Raven's struck four before I made it through the moonlit archway.

Black medical cloth bound the wound across my belly. With every step, I instinctively put a hand there, then remembered there was nothing left to protect.

Dr. Hurst walked me to the steps and placed an amber shard in my hand, sealed around the last trace of my baby's life.

"She didn't suffer long."

I gripped it until an edge bit into my palm. The pain helped me stay on my feet.

Blackthorn's council hall blazed with light. Elders talked beneath the painted dome while servants poured warm blood wine.

Lucien sat at the far end, stamping a warrant Celeste had placed before him.

She stood at his right hand, holding the household seals on a silver tray. When he finished with one, she handed him the next without being asked.

When I told him I wanted to dissolve our blood bond, he did not put down his seal.

"Because I missed the winter garden last night?" He looked up. "Evelyn, you don't dissolve a three-year bond because my schedule changed."

"This isn't about the winter garden."

"You've just been through another difficult treatment. You're exhausted. We'll discuss this when you're thinking clearly."

I laid the petition on his desk.

"I'm not asking to discuss it. I want to leave you."

That finally made him stand.

He reached for my hand. I stepped back, and his fingers remained suspended between us.

"I've already dealt with St. Raven's," he said. "They haven't explained whether stabilizing the baby's blood could permanently damage your veins. I told them to wait until the risks were reviewed."

"You told them to wait?"

"I told them not to frighten you into consenting to unnecessary procedures."

Celeste kept her eyes lowered.

"She was following my instructions," he continued. "You confronted her in the blood room in front of the attendants. She could have reported it, but she chose not to embarrass you."

"I was asking for help."

"And I restored your access yesterday. There's nothing left to fight about."

"What time did you restore it?"

He glanced toward the elders waiting beyond the carved doors.

"The Thornwood treaty has to be signed tonight. I have an entire territory depending on me."

Then his voice softened.

"I'll come to your rooms when I'm finished. I'll bring you a moon fern. You said the planter beside our bed looked bare."

I had said that. I had wanted our child to grow up with something to smell besides stone and blood.

He remembered the plant. He had not asked why I was no longer receiving treatment.

Once, during an attack of blood-moon fever, he had signed the emergency release himself and stayed beside me until dawn. Even after the healers administered the blood, he kept holding me until the trembling stopped.

Every time I tried to apologize for keeping him awake, he drew me closer.

There had been nights like that.

There had also been the frost-covered footbridge where he left me after Celeste reminded him that the old families disliked being kept waiting. When he returned, he kissed my cracked fingers and told me she took her duties too seriously.

Three nights ago, I had called him from the treatment pool and begged him to listen to the faint pulse struggling beside mine.

Celeste's voice reached him first.

"My lord, I haven't refused Miss Vale's request. The heartblood is held in the family medical reserves. Releasing it without secondary verification could trigger a Night Court review."

My mouth was full of blood. Each word hurt.

"She doesn't have time."

"If you order me to break procedure, I will," Celeste continued. "I'm prepared to accept the consequences. I only thought my duty was to protect the Ashbourne reserves—and you—from a decision made in panic."

Then Lucien said,

"Celeste understands these systems. Why can't you trust her for once?"

The faint pulse beside mine weakened.

"Lucien, please."

"I've heard you. Follow the process and let her handle it."

After we formed the blood bond, he told me I no longer needed to work. Celeste took over the accounts, the ward records, and the blood bank.

Soon, even a visit to an old friend or a charm against the blood moon required her approval.

For banquets where I was expected to stand beside him, she decided which clothes and jewels I could have. My requests were too late, too extravagant, or unsuitable for the occasion.

I would arrive in an old cloak too thin for the weather while nobles praised her for keeping Blackthorn running.

Lucien would brush snow from my shoulder and murmur, "Everyone's watching. Don't give them another reason to think you don't belong here."

Now he picked up my petition, glanced at the first page, and slid it back across the desk.

"Have Celeste put your medical records in order. Go upstairs and rest. Wait until I get back."

I took the papers.

I had asked him for the blood that could save our child. Now I was asking to leave.

His answer was still the same.

Go through Celeste.