THE ALPHA KING'S MAID
It was enough that he existed.
Before the throne, kneeling on the cold marble, two men kept their heads bowed. Malik—the silver-eyed vampire with polite manners who had examined Emili on the island—was sweating for the first time in centuries. Beside him, Orlo, his yellow-eyed lackey, trembled with his forehead pressed to the floor.
“Your Majesty,” Malik said, his normally smooth, controlled voice fraying at the edges. “I assure you we are making progress. The portal worked, the demons crossed, the tracking was underway—”