Chapter 4
"I must have been blind back then," Albert snarled, his frustration boiling over. "Selene needs that necklace to open the vault.
"Half her fortune is locked inside. If I do not produce it, how am I supposed to get the seal? How am I to claim the gold and the authority to command her forces?"
"I am not giving it to you. It is mine!" Lilia shrieked, her voice splintering into hysteria. "The moment you lay hands on her fortune, will you spare me a second thought?
"You have been so cold to me lately. Are you planning to toss me aside and start fresh with that lunatic who cannot even recall her own name?"
A woman's instincts never miss. It was almost a pity she had to be right this time.
A sharp crack split the air. It was the sound of a slap.
Lilia crumpled to the floor, clutching her face, blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. She stared up at him in stunned disbelief.
Albert looked down at her, his gaze devoid of warmth. "Do not forget what you are. You are nothing but a pet I keep in this castle.
"I can drape you in silk and jewels, or I can strip you of everything. Hand over the necklace, or come tomorrow, I will throw you back into the gutter where I found you."
Lilia shattered completely, her sobs raw and broken. In the end, shaking and weeping, her fingers trembling so badly she could barely grip it, she surrendered the necklace.
After Albert swept out with his prize, Lilia sagged to the floor. Something dark and venomous kindled in her eyes.
"Selene... you wretched bitch," she hissed, her voice quivering with fury. "If you refuse to let me live in peace, then we will die together."
*****
The next day, Albert presented himself before me, Nyx's Tear in his hand.
"Selene, look. I have retrieved the necklace," he said, practically preening with expectation.
I took it from him and studied it. The cheap, cloying scent of Lilia's perfume still clung to the chain. It turned my stomach.
"Thank you, Albert," I breathed, drawing him into what felt like a heartfelt embrace. "You are such a wonderful husband."
His fingers had nearly closed around the vault key at my waist when the door slammed open.
An icy gust tore through the room, heavy with the scent of blood.
Albert shoved me behind him, his body coiling tight as if bracing for a mortal enemy to come crashing through the threshold.
From the darkness beyond, a figure strode slowly into the light. His presence settled over the room like a coming storm.
He wore the black uniform of a military commander. His gold eyes gleamed from the shadows of his face, full of menace.
That was Victor Ravenshade. The true master of Castle Evernight, head of the Nightborn Council, Lord of the North, and Albert's half-brother.
"V-Victor..." Albert's voice came out thin and strangled.
He stumbled backward on instinct, all his bravado dissolving under the weight of Victor's presence.
Among the Nightborn, power was the only currency that mattered.
Victor was an atavistic pureblood, a throwback to an age of blood and terror, a creature whose strength had no known bottom and whose cruelty was the stuff of legend.
Albert might call himself lord of the family, but in Victor's shadow, he was an ant cowering beneath the gaze of a dragon.
Victor did not spare Albert a single glance. His eyes cut straight past him and found me, cowering behind my husband.
His gaze was honed to a blade's edge, assessing me the way a predator sizes up prey it has not seen in a very long time.
"So," Victor drawled, "I hear my dear sister-in-law has lost her memory."
His voice was low and rough, carrying an unsettling magnetism that coiled around the spine.
I shrank deeper behind Albert, clutching his sleeve with white-knuckled fingers, pressing my face against his back so that only my terrified eyes peered out.
"Albert, who is he? I am frightened..." My voice came out thin and trembling, saturated with fear.
Albert swallowed hard and struggled to gather the scraps of his dignity in front of his wife. "Victor, Selene struck her head. Her mind is still fractured. Please, do not frighten her."
Victor let out a cold laugh, entirely devoid of warmth.
He advanced toward us, each step slow and deliberate, heavy with threat.
Albert tried to plant himself in Victor's path, but the sheer force of Victor's presence drove him stumbling backward, step after clumsy step, until he crashed into a chair in a graceless heap.
With Albert swept aside, I was left utterly exposed, caught in the full intensity of Victor's predatory stare.
He stopped directly before me and looked down, his gaze cold and unsparing.
He stood so close that I could taste the sharp, wintry scent of ice and pine that clung to him. And beneath it, fainter still, the metallic whisper of blood. It was the mark of a true predator.
Slowly, he raised his hand, sheathed in black leather, and hooked a single finger beneath my chin.
The chill of the leather against my skin sent an involuntary shiver through my body.
"Look at me, Selene," he commanded.
I lifted my head and met his eyes.
"W-What do you want from me?" I stammered. My voice wavered. Tears brimmed at the edges of my lashes. I was the perfect portrait of helpless vulnerability.
His thumb, still gloved, traced a slow line along my jaw.
Then, without warning, he leaned in. His lips brushed dangerously close to my ear.
I went rigid. Every instinct screamed that he was about to sink his teeth into my throat.
Instead, a low, mocking chuckle vibrated against my skin. He muttered, "You are putting on quite the performance, are you not, my dear Selene?"