Shadow Of The Vampire. Meagan Hatfield

his neck. Dropping his chin to his chest, he closed his eyes and tried to gather the strength that still lived inside him in preparation for whatever they planned.

      ALEXIA BRISTLED AT IVAN’S bravado, but said nothing. From day one, Lotharus had worked hard to undermine her position in the horde, especially around his soldiers. Bit by bit she’d watched as he’d tipped the power scales in his favor. When she’d finally had enough and demanded he stop, he’d taken a more drastic step to ensure she’d always feel inferior around him.

      Although she did her best to move on from that night, the damage was done. The soldiers could not only sense her weakness around him, they could see it. Hell, she thought with a twinge of shame, even their dragon captive saw it.

      Pursing her lips, Alexia swept past Ivan and into the hall, glad he remained behind. Sconces flickered and hissed as she passed. Their auburn light danced on the damp cave walls, casting shadows against them. Used to the clicking of her boots on the stones, the quiet shuffle of her slippered feet unsettled her. She focused instead on the cool metal pressing into the flesh of her outer thigh with each step she took. That felt normal…familiar.

      As she made her way to the Queen’s chamber, she thought about what she was going to tell her mother about the crystal. An ancient horde relic, the Draco Crystal had been in the safekeeping of her family for years. Yet only recently did they understand its true power. An earthquake had fractured the cliff walls, revealing half a dozen catacombs and vaults no one had seen in over seven hundred years. Among many of the olden treasures and artifacts found within were scrolls long forgotten and thought destroyed. One such scroll spoke of the Draco Crystal, of its power to rule all or destroy one. Of the terrible wrath and damage it had caused in the auld days and the subsequent reason for the scroll being buried.

      Everything in Alexia screamed to abide the olden horde’s wishes and keep dead secrets hidden. But Lotharus and her mother had other plans. They wanted to harness the crystal’s power and use it against their enemies to ensure victory.

      When a group of dragons had attacked last month, stealing the scroll, the captured dragon King and Queen were tortured and murdered. Now, with the stakes so high and both sides on the hunt, the race was on. Alexia knew it would only be a matter of weeks, even days, until this war would be at its pinnacle. Although she knew she should do everything in her power to ensure her people would be the ones standing on top, something about the crystal, about Lotharus’s rampant bloodlust to find it, unsettled her.

      Alexia rounded the corner. Dismissing the guard with a wave, she pushed through the giant double doors. They pivoted wide, revealing the bright splendor of the Queen’s hall. Queen Catija’s quarter had no receiving room. Instead, it opened into a dome reminiscent of an archaic cathedral or sanctuary, complete with fresco ceilings. Soft artificial light beamed from the top of the cavernous space. Alexia’s eye was drawn upward, following the flowing arcs and sculpted curves of the vaulted ceiling.

      While the Queen was the mirror image of her predecessor in appearance, unlike her grandmother, who enjoyed the finer things and believed in reform and harmony, Alexia’s mother had barbaric tastes and a penchant for gore. Or at least she had in the past. A decade ago, just the sound of the Queen’s name would strike fear in dragons and vampires alike. However, ever since Lotharus had entered the picture, first as her advisor and now as her future husband, she’d changed. Slowly at first—most had not even noticed the drastic transformation. But Alexia had.

      Lowering her gaze to the gardens, a relaxed smile passed her lips. Marble statues of Goddess stood beside white pillars wider than the boles of the large trees stretching upward, trying to reach any light they could, artificial or natural. Tendrils of lush ivy embraced the whitewashed walls and myriad birds flew freely around the underground garden. A lazy path wound through the space, forking into two passageways. One led to the conference quarter, the other toward the Queen’s bedchamber door.

      Alexia followed the footpath toward the meeting room, pausing at a fountain for the divine hunter, Diana. The ivory Goddess stared with wide, vacant eyes at the water pooled at her feet. She held one palm up, as if waiting for some sort of offering to be fitted atop it. The other slim hand extended forward, pouring a pitcher of endless water into the rectangular pond stretched out before her. Alexia followed her gaze to the pool. Beneath the shimmering water lay an intricate scaled replica of Davna Vremena, a land far beyond the mists of the Fatum, deep in the olden lands of their foremothers.

      Although she could not see the model, she remembered vague images of it from childhood. Her grandmother used to bring her here, used to raise the small city from the bottom of the pond and tell her stories of a peaceful world where every creature of light and dark lived in harmony. Alexia suddenly yearned to see the monument again, if only to prove that such a place had once existed.

      Taking one last look at the fountain, Alexia continueddown the path. A frown tugged her brow at the sound of voices lingering over the constant trickle of streaming water.

      “I do not think she’s ready,” a male voice said.

      “She has not yet ascended.” Her mother’s voice answered, weak but confident.

      “Even then, I don’t believe she will be ready for the throne.”

      “Lotharus, though you are an olden, you have not personally borne witness to a princess becoming a Queen. The power she’ll gain when she ascends will rival the Goddess herself. Combined with the training you’ve given her, my daughter will have ten times the strength of any one of those soldiers you hold in such high esteem.”

      “It’s not her strength I’m worried about,” he said. “It is her will. Her ability to rule to the standard of our ancestors…”

      Alexia stepped out from behind the foliage. “My ability should be none of your concern.” Lotharus turned to face her. As usual, he wore tailored black clothes. Their starkness stood in striking contrast to his sallow skin tone, and noticeably different from her mother’s Mediterranean complexion, pure white gown and raven-black hair.

      Light and dark. Good and evil.

      “Ah, Alexia dear, you’re here.” Catija stepped forward to greet her, but her footing faltered and she wobbled.

      “Mother.” Alexia hurried to her side. “Are you all right?”

      “I’m fine,” Catija dismissed with a wave. “Just a little dizzy.”

      Lotharus wound his arm around the Queen’s waist, tucking her against him and pivoting her away from Alexia. “You need to feed, dear heart,” Lotharus said, tightening his hold around her middle. “Come.” He pivoted, walking them toward the council quarters.

      Alexia trailed a few paces behind. Her gaze fixed on her mother’s black hair, plaited down her back. The tip of her long mane brushed the spotless, shimmering floors like a broom, swaying side to side with each dip of her hips. She had such a youthful, vibrant body. No one could see that a silent yet threatening illness was plaguing her mind.

      “The wedding and ascension are two days away, Alexia, and you have yet to select a gown,” the Queen said over her shoulder.

      Alexia opened her mouth, but promptly closed it. It was pointless to remind her mother they had selected the gown just last night. “I shall see to choosing a gown straight away,” she replied instead.

      “Good.” Her mother smiled. “Lotharus tells me the community is eager to attend your ceremony. We wouldn’t want them to be disappointed.”

      Alexia nodded, wondering exactly how her mother thought she should react. A group of strangers were excited to have an excused day off from work or labor. To them, the occasion of such fortune mattered little if at all. They came for the free food and spirits the festivities offered, not to wish her or her mother well. After all, she knew none of them, so it stood to reason none of them knew her.

      Keeping her opinions to herself, Alexia followed the two of them into the conference room. The circular seating area reminded her of those Jacuzzis she’d seen humans use. However, this one was ten times the size and empty. Instead of water, the center