Chapter 2

Chapter

Two

Alexandru

I close my eyes as I lean against the window in my rooms, the night shifting to pre-morning as the coolness sinks into me.

Eleanna, the would-be queen has fallen.

Even now I can't bring myself to believe it. She's too intelligent, too hungry, too damned stubborn to fall.

She disappeared, according to one of my spies. In the middle of the battle, after our eyes locked. After I left.

Eleanna, Queen of the Sagori vampires. The long, flowing red hair. That lithe body my hands remember even if I try and forget.

Eleanna might be without a throne, but she's out there. Every beat of my blood says so.

I can see her, almost taste those lips and the satin of her pale, gleaming skin. Even in the melee the bright blue of her eyes hooked in deep.

Curse her for wanting to restore the old ways and the bloodletting of humans.

"General?" Ivan asks.

I open my eyes, his shadow long in the dancing candlelight, the blue of morning's first light staining the floor.

My fingers curl into fists at my sides, hidden beneath the long sleeves of my tailored black coat, the fabric whispering over the hilt of my sword.

"Speak your mind, Ivan."

"We must do something," he says. "Throw down with the new queen or rise up. We?—"

"Eleanna lives."

Ivan comes up to me. He's clad in his military garb, dark and severe, every inch the warrior. The faint gleam of his cropped hair and the iron-gray of his eyes mark him as a man who has weathered countless storms. His presence is both a blade and shield—reassurance in the midst of mayhem.

We may not have taken part in the battle, but we both know one is coming. And where we are in the world is most definitely mayhem.

"She is hard to miss."

"The battle is done in the castle, is it not?" I don't need to stay to witness the fall of Sagori. Ivan's silence is answer enough. "Loyalists switched to save their skin, or perished. Or fled."

A fifth column will rise.

Battles and wars changed in many ways, but not the rise and fall of power. And not those who fought from the shadows for their beliefs.

Those things never changed. And the fifth column? If Catarina had her way everything would be under her rule. And every loyalist to Sagori ground to dust. Staked.

"Those who got out have not mentioned her, General Amanar. Our spy left when the battle grew too big. She vanished. That spy, as you know, barely got out." He shifts, those clever eyes moving over me. "You should be careful."

"I will not hide away. And if her body was there, that news would have spread faster than the encroaching day. Eleanna got out, and she'll be more dangerous to those who betrayed her than ever."

I keep my own emotions under tight control.

"Her words stirred anarchy, General Amanar. The old ways are not welcomed by all." Ivan's voice is low. He rests one hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Nor should they be." My reply is terse, as I stare out into the slow dawn that stretches across the grounds. "But Eleanna moves forward."

"Some don't see it so."

I want to yell the time for our discussion has passed. But I don't think it has. She's not dead. I know it as I know myself. "Problem is Eleanna's fucking blind to the edges of the precipice she treads upon. She lacks the diplomacy needed."

What she does is speak truth unvarnished. And it's how I know she's a true queen. Not a politician like Catarina who can manipulate words and situations, bending them to her. She's as unmoving as Eleanna, but the red-haired beauty's transparent. Catarina would have the world think she's bending to it until she has her power. Makes her move.

Makes? Made.

"Do we know if any loyalists to the real queen got out?"

"Some," he says. "Some. But they'll be in hiding."

"She must have got out when they did. Otherwise her head would be on a pike."

I cast him a look, straightening up.

"Then we must ready ourselves," he says, his tone steady as ever. "Wait, watch."

"And you? Your loyalties?"

"With you," he says, not missing a beat.

Ivan is of the old guard, a heart made of loyalty. But he's high enough that he'll speak his mind. I prefer that to fear and secrets. Those who harbor both, who feel they can't let me know their mind are the ones who'll turn and strike.

"Try and find her. Search taverns, inns, all the places one might hide. She got out." I start to pace.

"General? What do we do when we find her?"

I want to say drag her to me, but I don't. Instead, I settle on something mild. "Watch her."

He nods, but remains. "A time will come when we are asked what side we support. For now, we can just watch and wait and let things play out. But that time has limits."

This is the last thing I want, but Ivan is right.

"Agreed."

The word tastes sour on my tongue. My loyalty to Eleanna is a shackle I've long since broken, yet it still chafes. She was to be my queen, my heart's consort, but the cruelty that flows in her veins chilled even the inferno of my desire.

I clench my jaw as I meet Ivan's gaze, a voiceless understanding passing between us. We have both seen the depths of Eleanna's ruthlessness, the way she wields power like a barbed whip, caring little for the wounds she inflicts. It doesn't matter I caught a whiff of her hesitation. She let nerves rise for a moment. That moment was gone in an instant.

And now, as her kingdom crumbles around her, wherever she's gone, as her enemies close in like a pack of ravenous wolves, I feel… sympathy? Fear? I'm not quite sure what I feel. But I should feel nothing.

She killed the spark of warmth inside her. No one else. She placed her ambitions above all.

And this anarchy is what she sowed.

I'm aware she's the better choice of the two evils, but…

"We owe nothing to anyone," I say. "We'll watch, wait and when the time's right, act."

Ivan nods, the motion sharp and decisive. "This is no longer the shadow of war. We're at the start."

And though Eleanna is nothing to me now, the pull of our shared history—a relic woven with threads of passion and betrayal—is a relentless flood, threatening to drag me under once more.

"Fuck," I mutter. "Catarina will come knocking. She's been waiting in the shadows for this opportunity to ambush Eleanna."

Ivan's gaze finds mine, his eyes glinting with a vampire's concentration. "Catarina has always been ambitious. This move was calculated."

"I'm aware." I clench my jaw. "We must calculate further, stay ahead. What long term spies do we have at the castle?"

"One or two in the stables and kitchens. She'll cull people but will also have to replenish staff. Soldiers." He crosses to the window, searching the grounds. "It'll take time. Catarina's going to be on high alert and suspicious."

Maybe, but we're better than her.

"We need more than that. We need ears within her ranks." I wait until he looks at me. "A way to halt her rebellion and protect the realm. She'll gather mercenaries to swell her ranks. That's how we'll get in amongst her ranks."

I'm suggesting treason now she's grabbed the throne. But I am not loyal to her. I'm loyal to my realm.

"Discretion will be our ally, General Amanar. A whisper can be more lethal than a shout in those hallowed halls."

"Whispers have felled empires."

The truth of the sentiment grips me like iron chains. A misstep here could spell disaster, and Eleanna—no matter my disdain—must not fail in the long run.

"Waiting to see is difficult when Eleanna is to the winds," Ivan says.

"The realm and the true leader are our focus. Once she's located, we keep her safe, and underground if needs be." I refuse to let her perish due to negligence on my part.

"Then let us be the subtle blade that protects."

Ivan's conviction is unyielding, and I find solace in it, even as the weight of command presses down upon me.

"Most definitely, old friend." I stop my pacing and turn to him. "We lay low once we know where she is and see how it plays out."

I swallow hard and every time I close my eyes I can see that flowing red hair, the dark red gown and tight black bodice. A queen. Cruel. Ruthless. Beautiful.

"Why should I give a fuck about her fate?" I mutter.

"Because despite everything, you still wear the ring she gave you." His voice is softer now.

He nods toward my hand where a band of silver, etched with raven wings, encircles my finger—a shackle of a different kind. I've never taken it off since the Mistress of Ravens herself gave it to me with a promise that never came to be.

"Damn you, Ivan. You always make me face my ugly truths," I growl, but he's right.

Deep down, I fear Catarina's threats as though they are directed at me because, in a way, they are.

"General Amanar, we will be ready for the fight when the time comes," Ivan says.

Eleanna, the woman who once commanded my heart and now incites my fury can still cause chaos when she's gone to ground. In me, anyway.

From near the high gates a horse and ride are allowed in. The first, I hope, of many.

Others came during the night, but this one is in heavy cloaks, and probably either from the battle or one who didn't attend. Time will tell.

Ivan joins me. "They are arriving, the next wave of our allies. Time to go down and greet."

The snow makes the morning brighter and the steamy breath of the horse puffs up as they head to the stables.

The sun hasn't quite breached the horizon, but its brightness chases the shadows, and soon we'll have more arriving to join those who came in the night.

We disappear into the shadowed halls of the fortress. How many of Catarina's army laid waste to good vampires? She doesn't just want the Sagori crown. A woman like Catarina wants to reshape all with her as a goddess. An absolute ruler.

A deep-seated worry expands in my chest, worry that she'll come after me next and try to destroy everything I have built for my own people, my loyal soldiers, and my friends. Catarina's greed and aspiration for dominance will no doubt spread like a disease throughout the realm.

No, she will not be content with just Eleanna's throne. She will want it all. And that includes unanimous loyalty.

She's dangerous on many levels. And perhaps crueler than Eleanna.

"General Alexandru." Ivan's voice slices through the silence that blankets us as we walk the halls of my castle. "We should have been bombarded by more during the night. And not one rider just now, but many. I think we must gather our allies in secret. I fear Catarina's ambition knows no bounds; she will come for us next."

A knot tightens in my gut, an undeclared agreement forming. My nod is all the confirmation Ivan needs. "I know, my friend. I have been thinking the same. To the world we need to be seen as bipartisan. But inside? We must act quickly before her militia spills over into other kingdoms and realms. We will remain silhouettes among the darkness. Ghosts to those who dare cross us."

"I've sent riders to the western border," he says.

"Without running it by me?"

I don't miss his small smile. "You would have ordered it."

"Definitely. If there are vampires who will join the cause against Catarina, that's where we'll start." My voice is a low growl, the sound of a general commanding his troops. "And we'll take in those who wish to shelter here. Quietly."

"Understood, General Amanar."

One of his men scurries up and hands him some slips of parchment. And he nods. I keep walking, letting them exchange words. Already I can hear voices rise up from the great hall.

Ivan catches up with me. "Word from the first of our loyalists' hidden enclaves to the east and south."

"And?"

"Riders are on the way. And they all sent pledges of allegiance to join your cause."

"Summon the commanders of my legion," I say. "Tell them to ready their forces without drawing attention. When we move, we'll move under the cloak of night, unseen, unheard."

"Consider it done, General," Ivan responds, his presence a constant, unwavering force beside me. "And Eleanna?"

"Find her." I nod in the great hall's direction. "I'll be in there, talking to our guests."

I'm aware our actions are a delicate balance of power and secrecy, each step measured, each word spoken with intent. The bonds of loyalty that tie us together are the only certainty in a world that teeters on the brink of upheaval.

The memory of Eleanna invades my thoughts, her image flickering like a ghostly flame against the backdrop of my mind.

Her sharp laughter reverberates through memories—the way it would fill the air after a particularly cruel jest or decision. A shiver runs down my spine, an involuntary reaction whenever I recall the pain she could inflict so effortlessly.

Yet, amid the hurt, there were moments of searing heat, where passion flared brighter than any sun. Her touch, both fire and balm, had once ignited a blaze within me that no winter could quell. The dichotomy of tenderness and torment that defined us leaves me grappling with a longing that has no place in the heart of a warrior.

"General?" Ivan's voice pulls me back from the precipice of memories best left undisturbed. "Do you have any other orders?"

"I'm fine," I say. "The defenses have been fortified and the council are here, too. I'll talk to those amassed."

"Then I'll send out the orders and join you." He nods and strides away.

The large heavy doors beckon but I don't immediately enter. I need to work things carefully. Last thing I want is to incite the full-on war. Let that come from Catarina.

With a breath I open the doors and step in, the room falling silent.

"I am General Alexandru Amanar"—defender, strategist, vampire—"and though the storm of war looms, we will crush it."

A tangle of voices rise and I lift my hand. They cease.

"You noticed every warrior is armed and ready, and I expect yours to do so, too. Catarina has unleashed chaos and we're on the precipice of full-on war. But the battle will be waged with intelligence, and right now we wait."

"General, I say we strike," a nobleman says. I forget his name. "Now, while we can, before she gains more troops and power."

I nod, letting the murmur of voices crash and roll. Then I speak. "War isn't about might. It's strategy, timing, and smart play. Right now, we watch and wait. And when we have a better lay of the land we strike. So, rest up. And we'll reconvene this evening."

I head out as Ivan arrives. He joins me as I leave the great hall.

"Short," he says.

"But bittersweet. There is no point repeating myself with each arrival." I turn to him. "We make sure no one leaves for now."

"Done, General."

We both go to the war room. Right now, we need the bones of a plan to bring up to the others. And we'll do that tonight. I cast an eye over the maps sprawling across a massive table, land marked by conquest and blood. I trace my fingers over the terrain, every valley and peak memorized, etched into my mind as deeply as my own scars.

Ivan locks his gaze on the map. "To victory, General Amanar."

"To survival," I correct him, my eyes not leaving the map. "Victory implies we have something to win. We're fighting to avoid losing everything."

Our preparations progress to the point we share with the gathered vampires; weapons are distributed, strategies discussed, and contingencies planned with the group.

No word comes of Eleanna's whereabouts, but that doesn't stop her inhabiting my mind. The image of Eleanna—her fiery hair and fierce blue eyes—burns at the edge of my consciousness, a ghostly flame with the power to either save or scorch my soul.

"Eleanna may yet play a role in this," I murmur, half to myself. "If we find her." Then I make myself say it. "What if I'm wrong and she didn't make it out alive…"

"I am sure she has, and you know it." Ivan says. "She is..."

"Complicated," I finish for him, my voice steady despite the warring emotions inside me. "But necessary."

"I was going to say tenacious."

"We need her," I say.

In the end, the war is not just for power or survival—it is for her, the queen who once held my heart, even if I dare not admit it aloud.