Twenty-year-old Claire must deceive a vampire prince to infiltrate the monarchy and discover their secrets while resisting her desire for him.
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Nothing in my life has ever been easy. Including the mission my family has sent me on.
My sister and...
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Approcher (verb) to approach
We trotted past an estate that nature seemed to be reclaiming. Thick, brambly bushes and twisted trees dusted with snow clawed at the outer walls. Dead vines crawled up the sides.
It didn't look like a happy place.
But the home was less unsettling than the chanting, which came from an old family graveyard behind the house. A tall, iron fence encircled the gravestones, enclosing the whole area, which was filled with dark witches.
A strange prickling feeling raced up my spine the longer I stared at them, so I turned away, forcing myself to focus on evening out my breath.
I had to keep it together, no matter how afraid I was.
Discovering information about their relics was the whole reason I braved the frigid ride and came with Bastien, wasn't it?
Yes. Of course, it was.
It certainly wasn't because he was my mate or because I was developing feelings for him.
Wanting to feel wanted and cared for and feminine wasn't the same as...love.
No matter what the gods thought, Witches of the Light didn't fall in love with vampires. These feelings I had for him were unnatural, and I was starting to believe the darker part of me that he'd awakened was to blame.
My breath caught in my chest, and my spine straightened. Maybe that's what was wrong with me all along. Maybe this darkness inside of me was the reason why I wasn't gifted with Diana's gift and why she'd seen fit to mate me to a vampire.
I was a bad apple.
I swallowed hard as the realization sank in. Well, bad apples could still make their family proud, and I was going to prove it.
Bastien brought his horse to a halt, and in one graceful movement, he dismounted and quickly set about tying Lucien to a tree.
I was so cold and stiff that I could barely shift my weight when I tried to swing my leg over Lucien's back, and I let out a groan of pain and frustration. Bastien had me by the waist and was lifting me off like I was as light as smoke.
Our eyes locked as he set me on the ground, and a thrill raced through me, just like it always did when he was close enough to kiss.
And I knew just how delicious his lips tasted.
I was chastising myself for the errant thought when a brilliant, warm light caught my attention.
It was the moon—the personification of Diana herself. She loomed over his shoulder, bathing Bastien in her light. Diana's glow almost made his blonde hair look nearly white, and there was something breathtaking about seeing him surrounded by it.
