He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment, you idiot!”

He shrugged. She said tomato; he said suck it.

Her eyes narrowed. “Like my little sister, I have questions, human. Unlike my sister, I expect, no, I demand answers this night.”

“King,” Riley snapped at her. “‘My king.’ That’s how you will address him from this moment on.”

Her chin rose, though she never removed her attention from Aden. “In thirteen days, I’ll call him king. Until then…”

For a moment, Aden thought she might be considering unsheathing one of her blades and tossing it at his heart, and a cold sweat broke out over his skin. Not a stabbing. Not again.

But she remained in place and said, “Besides, I haven’t decided to follow him.”

Riley descended the dais to stand just in front of her, nose-to-nose. “Is that a challenge?”

Above, the guards with the swords appeared ready to pounce. On Aden, Riley or Lauren, he wasn’t sure. “Enough,” Aden said, not knowing what else to do. I am not king. I don’t want to be king. But something had to be done. “We’ll argue about this later. As for now, glad as I am to meet a member of Victoria’s family, the introductions are over. You may go.” Did that sound kingly enough?

Surprisingly, yes. With a stiff nod and murderous glare, Lauren spun on her heel and stalked from the chamber. Once again, the door slammed shut. He noticed the humans were gone, too. He’d never heard them leave, but they’d somehow silently melted away.

“What now?” he asked, standing. Dizziness swept through him, and he had to grip the throne arm to remain upright. Just how long had he been sitting down?

“There’s a reception in your honor.” Victoria smoothed the hair from his brow, the caress gentle, warm. “Are you all right?”

No. Yes. Maybe. “What time is it?”

“Almost three.”

He’d been here for four hours, then. And in three more hours, he would have to “wake up” to get ready for school. “I have to return to the ranch soon. We’ve got school tomorrow, and I can’t miss again.” He knew she could fix things with her voice, making everyone think he was there when he wasn’t, but he wanted to go. He’d had to fight to be able to attend, and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to learn, to better himself.

Yeah, he’d probably sleep through every class, because even now, he fought a yawn, but he’d still go. Maybe the lessons would sink into his subconscious.

“Just a little while longer, then I’ll take you home.” Her palms flattened on his shoulders before sliding around to cup the back of his neck. She pressed herself against him. “I promise.”

Did she plan to kiss him? They’d kissed before, but only gently, and not for nearly long enough. He’d wanted more then and despite his condition, he knew he’d want more now. He’d want her tongue, her taste and her teeth.

A minute ticked by, then another, but she merely held him. He tried not to wallow in disappointment. At least he cared about something now, he mused.

“This whole place is a stereotype, you know that?” he said in an attempt to distract himself. “All this black. The robes. The creep factor.”

“Father loved stereotypes. Loved playing to them.”

Her father. There was something Aden should know about the man, he thought, something he needed to tell her…but again, he could think of nothing. “Why did he love playing to them?”

One of her shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug. “People who encounter us think we’re merely humans pretending to be vampires. We’re considered weird, but we aren’t considered a threat.”

He understood. Weirdos were avoided, left alone. Threats were hunted, eliminated.

“The same could be said of you right now, Aden Stone.” Amusement layered her tone. “My people consider you weird rather than a threat.”

“And how do you know that?”

“No one tried to kill you.”

“True,” he said with a smile.

“And I’m proud of you, you know,” she said huskily, gaze dropping to his lips, then his neck.

Was she thirsty? Please…

Riley coughed.

They ignored him.

Praise had always been a rare commodity in Aden’s life, and he soaked hers up. In the institutions, the doctors had merely questioned him and the other patients had been wrapped up in their own problems. In foster homes, neither the well-meaning nor the uncaring parents had known how to deal with him, had even feared him. At the ranch, the other kids had ridiculed him at first.

“You’re not embarrassed that I’m a weak human?” he asked her. Because he knew, even if she wouldn’t admit it, that that’s how her people saw him. Would probably always see him.

She countered with a question of her own. “You’re not embarrassed that I’m a bloodthirsty fiend?” Even as she spoke, her gaze returned to the pulse at the base of his neck, which was hammering wildly. She licked her lips.

“Is my fiend thirsty now?”

“No,” she croaked, arms falling away. She stepped backward, adding distance between them.

“Liar,” he said, but didn’t push. She refused to drink from him because she didn’t want to turn him into a blood-slave. He understood, but he hated the thought of her beautiful mouth on anyone else.

They wouldn’t argue about it now, though. No time.

“Come.” Determined, she held out her hand. “The party is waiting.”

He twined their fingers and allowed her to usher him down the carpet, Riley trailing a few steps behind. The closer they got to the doors, the more noise Aden heard beyond them. But when they passed the thick metal arches, he realized there was no one in the hallway. There were only alabaster statues of people and animals and intricately carved chests, all open and empty. What were they for, then?

Beyond another set of doorways, however, was a ballroom brimming with vampires, their werewolf guards and humans. The vampires talked and laughed, the wolves, in animal form, prowled throughout, and the humans were again on the fringes, eagerly awaiting a summons.

The cobbled walls were black, the monotony broken by long, oval mirrors, and again, the only light source was the golden glow of candles. Above, the ceiling looked like a… He frowned. Sure enough. A cobweb. In the center of the web hung a chandelier. And that chandelier had legs that stretched up, as if a spider walked along the ceiling.

Someone spotted him, and conversations halted, the sudden silence interrupting his ogling. All heads turned to him. Aden shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Several minutes—an eternity—ticked by just like that. No one moving or speaking, just watching him, judging.

Should he do something? Say something?

They’d only ever been ruled by Vlad, he reminded himself. They were as clueless about this as he was. Not that he planned to rule them. He would figure a way out of this. Soon.

“Is he ready to see? To know?” someone muttered. Conversations started back up, the volume quickly rising. He thought he heard words like beast—maybe feast—and horde. Maybe bored.

“Should we wait until after the coronation?” someone else asked.

“Wait to see what?” he asked Victoria from the corner of his mouth.

She shifted uncomfortably, as he had done, and whispered, “They want to tell you about…they want you to know… Oh, this is difficult. I had hoped never to have to speak with you about this, but it was decided that, as king, you must know.”

“Know what?”

“That we are not…alone.”

Literally? ’Cause he could have figured that out on his own. Clearly they weren’t yet on the same page. “You want to explain what you mean?”

“No.”

“Do it anyway.”

She sighed. “There is…something with us.”

O-kay. Time to try another route. “If I’m going to…run things—” God, he couldn’t believe he was saying that, even just to get answers “—I need to know everything. So, let’s try this again. What something is with you?”