The Wolf of the Prophecy Read online

  The sound of gravel crunching drew Rori’s attention as another car approached. He and Jonas turned in the direction of a flashy red sports car.

  “The other candidates for emperor are still arriving,” Jonas announced. “It’s best that we weren’t the last.”

  “How many are there?” Rori asked without thinking. Did he care? He was there to tell them to take their emperorship and shove it. It had cost him enough.

  “I think five, including you,” Jonas informed him as the passenger door to the sports car opened.

  A toned, tanned leg exited the vehicle first. Rori’s eyes traveled up a feminine form as she emerged with grace from the car. Clad in blue-and-green sheer silk fabrics that billowed away from the bejeweled belt at her waist, the woman stood up to her full height. His gaze trailed her taut belly to the voluptuous curves that were her breasts, restrained by a gold-, blue-, and green-sequined bra. Golden blond waves cascaded over her bare shoulders, held away from her face by a blue-and-green paisley scarf. She was heavily made up, thick black lines and full black lashes outlining the woman’s large brown eyes, and a golden hoop from her nose connected with a thin chain to the golden earring dangling from her left ear.

  Rori recognized her immediately. Selene stood in the circular driveway as if she owned the plantation, dressed like a genie fresh from the bottle. She gazed upon the house possessively and as though unaware of anyone else. Her look gave him an itch of annoyance; a witch had no claim to vampire court.

  Ultra-focused on Selene’s entrance, Rori completely missed Perci’s approach. With his perfectly tailored pinstriped suit complimenting his lean frame and impeccably styled, coal-colored hair, Perci oozed a regal aura. Striding toward Selene, he embodied a similar sense of superiority to his companion. He snaked his arm around her waist, resting his palm upon her hip, and pressed a kiss to her temple. Releasing her, he buttoned his suit jacket and wore a smug grin as he took in the vampire court plantation.

  Feeling underdressed, Rori glanced down at his gray vest over a simple white button-down and the blazer he wore over it all. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cuffed pale blue jeans. He most definitely did not hold the regal standing to be emperor.

  Good! Rori told himself, lifting his chin. He didn’t want to be emperor. Let Perci have the damn throne. Let his witch bitch take the coven seat. Rori and Divina didn’t need that shit.

  “Duke Percival Hohenzollern,” Jonas greeted with a half bow. “It’s a pleasure to see you this evening.”

  Rori scowled at the little suck-up. Where was his burly wolf-blood strength now?

  “Sir Jonas.” Perci turned his attention to the young man and lifted a brow toward Rori. “Were you the assigned escort to Roricus?” he inquired with an aristocratic tone as he offered his elbow to Selene.

  The witch shifted her gaze from the building to Rori and smirked. She slipped her hand to rest in the crook of Perci’s arm, and the two stepped toward Rori and Jonas. Folding his arms over his chest, Rori narrowed his eyes. An invisible static grated against him. Their entitled air felt wrong, as though it went against something ingrained within him.

  “Indeed, sir,” Jonas said before stepping back slightly.

  “Roricus.” Perci regarded Rori when he was but a foot from him. “Imagine my surprise seeing you here.” He looked past him a moment. “Alone, are you?” he asked haughtily.

  Rori’s eye twitched. “What did you do?” he asked through clenched teeth. His pulse ticked in his chest, hard, almost at living speed. Heat flourished, rising to his cheeks. With narrowed eyes, he glared at Perci.

  Perci stood calm and collected. Rori had never liked the duke. While most vampires were experts with charm, Perci felt unnecessarily over the top. The way he schmoozed about with the elite left Rori feeling greasy.

  He couldn’t shake the feeling that Perci knew something. He knew where Divina had gone. He’d hidden her away somewhere Rori couldn’t find her. Perci had taken her from him. Shaking with rage, he clenched his fists at his assumptions.

  A chuckle of amusement came from Perci. “I don’t know what you mean,” he replied dismissively.

  “What the fuck did you do?” Growling, Rori took a step forward, only to have his arm grabbed by Jonas.

  “Roricus, sir, I urge you to calm yourself.” With a hard expression, Jonas glanced from Rori to Perci. “You are in the presence of the Duke of the Louisiana territory.”

  Perci’s eyebrows lifted expectantly, as did his chin, at the recognition of his position. The message was clear—Perci held a standing. He was important. Rori didn’t and wasn’t. Respect was not only expected, Perci demanded it.

  Perci’s gaze locked on Rori’s as though challenging him. Rori shrugged in an attempt to shake off Jonas’s viselike grip. “I don’t want your goddamn throne,” he declared. “What have you done with my Divina?”

  “Gentlemen,” an admonishing male voice called from the top of the stairs, interrupting their little standoff in the circular drive. “We are losing moonlight, and this is not public business,” the man warned.

  “Advisor,” Perci greeted with enthusiasm as he and Selene turned away from Rori. The couple ascended the steps. “You must forgive Roricus. He is not familiar with the ways of the court.”

  The condescension in Perci’s tone grated on Rori’s nerves. He whirled around, his wild eyes flicking from the advisor to Perci and back again.

  The older vampire advisor stood with his heels together and a stout belly protruding, his hands clasped behind his back. He regarded Perci before turning his attention down to Rori. “Knight Jonas, please escort Mr. Fromm to the throne room. We are ready to begin proceedings.”

  Rori could have sworn he heard the advisor click his heels just before he turned and made his way inside the building. The ceremony, the pompous circus of it all, soured Rori’s stomach and reminded him that he didn’t belong here. With each interaction, he firmed his resolve.

  Jonas tugged his elbow. “Let’s go. Can’t keep them waiting.”

  Tightening his mouth into a thin line, Rori allowed Jonas to lead him up the stairs. “I meant it,” Rori told the knight. “I don’t want to be emperor.”

  Jonas nodded. “Then this will be an easy night for you.” His reply came without looking at Rori. The grin on the other man’s face told him Jonas didn’t believe a word.

  Polished hardwood floors, crown molding, and old oil paintings adorned the interior of the vampire court. Large, dark, and no doubt heavy oak doors lined the halls, flanked by square white columns. Rori caught a glimpse of a sitting room with large camelback couches and a fireplace through one of the doors before Jonas directed Rori toward another hall with a downward stairwell at the end. While it matched the house’s design, it seemed as though it was not meant to be an obvious feature; the door matched the wall, giving it a hidden feel.

  From behind them, Rori watched Perci and Selene and their familiarity with the building. Observing how comfortable they appeared to be didn’t sit well with him. With backs straight and heads high, they walked through the building as if they had been there millions of times. Perhaps they had.

  Envy stirred within Rori. Stuttering steps made him pause with the emotion. I don’t want the throne, he reassured himself. Pushing the jealousy down, he reminded himself that a desire for power was what had gotten him into this mess. It had spoiled his chances with Divina. It had driven her away from him, and he wouldn’t succumb to it again. He’d renounce the throne over and over again if it meant he’d have one more shot with her. This was not for him. This was not his destiny. Divina was his destiny.

  Vampire law dictated that only one with a heartbeat could sit on the throne and serve as emperor. The old vampires, ones who had long since met the sun, decreed that only one with a heartbeat could truly empathize and see beyond his own personal gain. Rori wasn’t so sure about that. With there being so few vampires with heartbeats, when the time came that a new emperor must be named, they were all roun
ded up for consideration. Regardless of intent to rule over their kind, it seemed.

  He just needed to inform the court that he was officially withdrawing himself from consideration—not that he remembered submitting his name in the first place, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was he did not belong there.

  The redheaded witch, Ines, had told him so. She’d told him that Perci should rule and Rori wasn’t fit, right before she melted into a puddle of black ooze. Cringing at the memory, he shivered. Besides, Perci believed it, as did Selene. There was no use in fighting. The only ones who wanted Rori on that throne were the Ember Witches.

  Once in the basement, massive, intricately carved wooden double doors opened to reveal a marvelous throne room, lit by blazing torches along the walls and a giant crystal chandelier. The room was breathtaking. Its grandeur matched the weighty sense of authority that oozed from it. Against the far wall, directly across from the door, was a dais. Two empty chairs sat on either side of the large gothic black throne, illuminated by firelight. Rori hesitated as he faced the throne. It called to him.

  Merely a chair. It was nothing more than a velvet cushion, hand-carved wooden arms, and a high back. Nothing special. Sure, a beauty to witness, but it was just a chair—a meticulously crafted, probably uncomfortable chair. Perhaps if Rori repeated it enough to himself, he would believe it.

  Standing in the doorway, behind a few rows of seating, Rori took in the expansive room underground. Similar to a church, there was an aisle down the middle leading to a small space before the dais.

  A small crowd of old and young vampires hung back in the rows of benches to watch the proceedings. Rori assumed them to be other lords of the US vampire territory, not up for consideration for the emperor’s throne. Scanning them, he noted a familiar face or two. Rori spotted several tuxedos and ball gowns within the mass of vampires. Again, he was reminded of how ill-prepared for vampire court he was. He tugged at his vest self-consciously.

  Perci and Selene led the walk down the aisle toward five wooden chairs, three of which were occupied. From the back, Rori could see a woman with brown hair pulled up into a French twist. To her left knelt a young, athletic, dark-skinned male wearing khakis and a polo shirt, who rested his head on her knee while she stroked his hair. He smelled of wolf. To her right sat a pale vampire clad in a tuxedo with silvery hair. Behind him stood a young blond-haired wolf-woman with her head bowed, and to her right, an older gentleman dressed in linen with long, scruffy brown hair had his hand on the man with the tuxedo’s shoulder. Rori could hear the heartbeat, so he assumed this to be the man’s witch. There were two empty seats, and on the end sat a lone vampire woman in an elegant corseted maroon gown. Her teased auburn hair stood high in a bouffant. She glanced over her shoulder at those approaching with piercing pale gray eyes.

  These were the other candidates for emperor. These were the others who held beating hearts in their chests. These were the competition. Rori tilted his head as he approached the seats and considered them. He’d not seen them before, but then again, the territory was large.

  Rori watched as Perci walked around the back of the chairs, headed for the filled ones first. Perci eyed the other candidates with disdain, superiority, and the most condescending smile Rori had ever seen. Selene only released his arm once he’d found a seat. Undoing the buttons of his jacket, he sat and crossed his legs. Even the way he carried himself looked pretentious. Perci nodded toward Selene, who bowed her head and then lowered herself to her knees beside him. With her back to him, she rested her palm on his thigh and turned her attention to the dais.

  This was not what the prophecy said. This was not how Rori understood the arrangement. Why were the others here? This was the vampire court. It had nothing to do with wolves or witches. It was one thing to allow them entrance to the main building, but it was another to allow them in the throne room. They simply did not belong. Rori’s brows knitted together as he questioned how nonvampires had been admitted entrance to their sacred room. Disgust curdled in his gut.

  Rori, rounding the corseted woman, took his seat quickly. Telling himself he needn’t worry about these things, he took a deep breath. He needed to get the hell out of there. He needed to say his piece and go.

  Glancing left and right, he took in the others. One of them would be a fine emperor. They clearly put more effort into this showing than he had. Perhaps if he told himself these vampires were better than him, knew more than him, and were better practiced at politics, he could convince himself that they would be better rulers. He didn’t even know them, but surely they’d prove their fitness for the throne in the next few days. It wasn’t the new moon yet. They had time.

  Leaning toward Rori, Perci whispered, “It’s a pity your witch isn’t here.”

  He gripped the armrests of his chair until his knuckles turned white. The wood creaked under the pressure. “What did you do to her?” Rori demanded in a growl.

  “Nothing,” Perci quickly dismissed, waving his free hand toward Rori. “I’ve not harmed a single dark hair on her little fortune-telling head.”

  Narrowing his eyes, grinding his teeth, Rori pushed to standing. “Where is she?” he demanded.

  The mirth vanished from Perci’s eyes when Rori stood over him. “Show some decorum,” he growled. “Just because you don’t want the throne doesn’t mean you have to disrespect it and those who do want it with a tantrum. I have no idea about your witch. You should keep better watch of her.” Glancing down at Selene, as though Rori were no threat to him, Perci stroked the blonde’s hair with affection in his gaze. “Sit down, Roricus. The sooner we get this formality over with, the sooner you can find her.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Witch boot camp.

  Divina hadn’t been fully prepared for the last few hours. Nor had she been aware that part of being a witch meant learning how to garden. Spending the day in Sonia’s yard, weeding, turning over soil, and plucking leaves from plants left her fingers stiff and covered in small cuts. It didn’t matter what she did, or how hard she tried, a black line of soil remained under her nails.

  She didn’t have time to worry before Sonia reviewed drying techniques, discussing what each herb would bring to a spell, or vrăji. Vrăji without herbs was possible, of course. Divina had witnessed enough of that, not to mention she’d practiced a few spells of her own without the use of herbs. However, witchcraft was tied strongly to the Earth. The more powerful spells drew energy not just from the witch’s motions and chanting, but also from earthly elements.

  “My brain is going to burst,” Divina declared six hours into her training with Sonia. There was no way she could keep track of one more plant or element and its magical connotation. Divina flopped onto a couch, careful to avoid the cat.

  With lines bracketing her mouth, Sonia frowned. Exasperation filled her eyes. “We’ve barely begun,” she said, holding a pot of something leafy and green. Divina had been told so many plant names that she had forgotten about this one and its importance.

  “I can only take so much.” Divina pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stave off a migraine.

  Rubbing at her sternum with her free hand, she tried to soothe the ache. The heartburn wouldn’t go away. She needed Tums or something. Did Tums work on wolf bites?

  While the day’s activities had offered periods of brief reprieve, the moment she stopped concentrating on foliage, it returned. Incessant and annoying, it only reminded her of Aric and how he’d bitten her without her consent. With her hand covering his mark, she told herself to be upset about it, though all she felt was the ache in her chest.

  “The new moon isn’t far off,” Sonia warned, breaking into Divina’s thoughts.

  Divina opened one eye. “What does the new moon have to do with anything?”

  Sonia’s lips tightened into a thin line. Her crow’s feet of concern appeared. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her cat before sitting beside Divina. With the cat in her lap, Sonia turned
to Divina with nothing but sympathy in her warm eyes. “The new vampire emperor will be crowned at the new moon,” she explained patiently. “However, that cannot happen until he, his witch, and her wolf…” She paused as though searching for the right word while stroking the cat. “It cannot happen until the other vampire and his witch are defeated.”

  Divina’s brow’s knit together. “Wait, other? Defeated?” she repeated in disbelief. “Defeated how? And who exactly is being defeated?” She’d heard the bit about the vampire and the wolf before, but defeating something? That was new. What did that even mean?

  Sonia’s frown deepened. “How have you made it this far without knowing the full extent of the prophecy?” The question felt rhetorical.

  “Why do I have to get involved with vampire politics? I’m not a vampire,” Divina asked. “Rori told me I started his heart. That was all he needed from me.” She wasn’t sure if her statement was an attempt to convince herself or Sonia. She looked at the woman with pleading eyes. “I just have to find the wolf,” she whispered, “and then my role is done?”

  Sonia wrapped her free arm around Divina’s shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. Resting her head on Sonia’s shoulder, Divina closed her eyes and inhaled. Knowing her role was more than just hooking up with the wolf, she longed for the simplicity of her life before. What she wouldn’t give to go back to a life that wasn’t dictated for her. It felt like an eternity had passed since her choices were her own and didn’t impact the fate of all supernatural kind.

  The cat leapt from Sonia’s lap and drew Divina’s attention back to the present. Sonia stroked Divina’s hair. The tender gesture created a calm in her, a relaxation she had missed.

  “Your role is much more than just getting a heart to beat,” Sonia said as she held her. “To prevent the exposure of nonhumans to humans, to prevent the suffering of all our kinds for future generations, your vampire must take the throne,” she recited in a soothing tone. “The others won’t allow your vampire the seat. They must be defeated, and your vampire can’t do it alone. He’ll need you and your wolf.”