The Rider's Truth.

Mercy.

Unedited. 

Chapter Thirteen - Mercy. 

The bold elegance stunned me.

Crystal chandeliers swung from the arched ceiling, thousands of small and dancing lights scattered over the white marbled floors, where black veins streaked through. The babble of voices echoed through the second set of doors but this foyer was already scattered with people. Ladies decked in jewels, looking impossibly beautiful and elegant.

Red streaked up my neck, a god-honest terror shaking my bones as I tried to keep my eyes level with theirs. I had felt like I looked half decent, but now I felt like a rattling skeleton, too pale and gaunt to belong with this people. Any muscle I had padded into my arms from eating and from training – which I proudly examined every morning – seemed to shrivel away again.

The second room arched up higher again and this was where the babble of voices grew loudest. Hands shaking by my sides at the thought of the attention that would turn our way, everything seemed to pass in a blur. Voices too sharp, eyes too condemning of our little rag-tag group. We had scrubbed up as best we could, but compared to people who have been alive for even longer than our parents and lived for these events, we stuck out woefully.

Then I spotted a pair of boots plopped behind the vase. As if someone had come in from the outdoors, from trekking in the muck and just threw their boots to the side. It was a big no-no in my books but I felt that way about any kind of mess. Seeing it here, among the gold and jewels, gave the ornate castle a small sense of homeliness.

"The first reception room of the Valacari home." Dem breathed giddily, fingers interlocking tightly and then pulling out as if he was trying to restrain himself.

Frowning, I tried to peer past him and blanched at the sight of the awaiting crowd. An ornate set of stairs curved around the side of the room, leading to a balcony where I could see the slim, elegant figure of Queen Theodore. Her hands were folded atop each other on the banister, her head dipping in greeting to every guest that entered.

There was a strange atmosphere to the party; an air of trepidation and impatience as if everyone was waiting for something. My etiquette wasn't great in situations of long-lost vampire princes returning and I wanted to just roll with it, but that meant relaxing control and I just didn't have the strength for that right now.

"For the attention of your royal highness, Queen Theodore Valacari, I introduce Rider Peter White."

Said Rider pulled back his broad shoulders and stepped into the spotlight of attention. Whispers broke out, opinions rushing through the crowd. Women admired him openly and I had to bite down a laugh at the expression on Dem's face.

Some did scoff at having Riders at their party and anger tightened my fists, before I made myself relax again. Lycans disliked Riders too, but I managed to befriend Kalan. Vampires disliked Riders it seemed, but somehow Hale and I became friends.

Somehow, the skull seemed to creep into my head to whisper insidious truths. 'But he didn't have a choice, did he? Look how well he's doing now – these people came for him. His mother throws a party in his honour and yours cared more about your sister's nose-ring than your kidnapping.'

Damn skull was always right.

I wiped sweaty palms down the front of my dress, nervously trying to loosen my jaw so it didn't look like it was wired shut. Odette and Collette Moreau were called, a strange sight for vampires were in the world of adopted children, twins were rare. Dem had told me in passing as we prepared to fly to the estate so that none of us would insult the guests accidently. Vampires couldn't have children – it was the curse of their blood and it kept their genes from being passed on so instead they adopted children from a place of their choosing around the world and raised them human before giving them the choice to stay as they were, or to turn. Most chose to turn and stay with their family, but a select few didn't want that life.