It's been two weeks and the long awaited visit to the council is on me.
I'm only thrilled to be going to Paris. Maybe I can think of it as a vacation and not certain death.
It's only Valentine and I on this journey, sad really. If Achilles were here, then the flight wouldn't be so long and silent.
It's funny how he's already growing on me like an unwashable fungus.
The hum of the plane's engine fills the cabin, but the space between Valentine and I feels heavier than the noise.
He sits across the aisle, his golden eyes fixed on the tinted window, his face set in that bland look. You can't tell what he's thinking or if he's thinking.
I don't bother trying to make conversation. What's there to say?
Two weeks of training, and I still feel like I'm stumbling in the dark. Now, we're heading straight into the lion's den.
We touch down in Paris twenty minutes before midnight and a sleek white BMV is already waiting to drive us over to our hotel.
Vampires do live quite the life. They've had centuries to make mistakes and correct them, so much so, that they make it into luxury to the point where it becomes their trademark.
The hotel is hidden beneath the streets of Paris, a secret haven for supernaturals. The entrance is unassuming—a narrow alleyway tucked between two crumbling buildings, its only marker a small, rusted plaque with a symbol I don't recognize.
Valentine pushes open the heavy wooden door, and we step inside. It's like we're in a different location entirely.
The air changes immediately. It's cooler, thicker, carrying the faint scent of incense and something metallic.
Blood.
Of course.
The walls are lined with deep red velvet, and the flickering light of sconces casts long shadows on the floor.
The receptionist, a pale woman with sharp features, bows to him but doesn't say a word. She hands over a key, her eyes flicking to me briefly before she looks away.
Our room is on the top floor, designed specifically for vampires. The windows are tinted, blocking out the sunlight, and the bed is draped in black silk.
There's a minibar stocked with blood bags, and the faint hum of magic in the air makes my skin prickle. I drop my bag on the floor and glare at the bed.
"There's only one."
He doesn't look at me. "I'll take the couch."
I raise a brow. "A centuries-old prince sleeping on a couch? How noble of you."
His jaw tightens, but he doesn't respond. Instead, he walks over to the couch and sits down, his movements stiff and deliberate. "Get some rest. Tomorrow won't be easy."
I want to argue, to demand why he's being so cold, but the burn in my throat stops me.
It's been days since I've fed, and the hunger is starting to claw at me. As if on cue, there's a knock at the door.
Room service.
A young woman wheels in a cart with two glasses and several blood bags. O positive. The best kind, apparently.
I eye the blood bags stacked in the minibar. Decoration it seems, if they have to bring up more.
Or maybe that's a different kind. Say B negative?
Sigh.
She leaves without a word, and I grab one of the bags, tearing it open with my teeth. The blood is cold but satisfying, the burn in my throat easing almost instantly.
Valentine watches me from the couch. "You'll need to control yourself tomorrow. The council won't tolerate any outbursts."
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "What, you think I'm going to snap and attack someone?"
"I think you're unpredictable," he says, his voice low. "And they'll use that against you."
I roll my eyes. "Great. Can't wait."
*****
The next night, we both stand in front of the council building. From the outside, it looks like ancient ruins, crumbling and forgotten.
Vines crawl up the stone walls, and the air smells of damp earth and decay. But inside, it's breathtaking.
The walls are made of polished marble, the ceilings so high they seem to disappear into darkness.
The air is thick with magic, and I can feel it pressing against my skin, heavy and soothing, leaving behind a lingering scent of a cloying sweetness.
He leans in, his voice barely a whisper. "Don't look them in the eye. Be submissive. They'll say things to provoke you—ignore it."
I nod, but my stomach is in knots. The council chamber is massive, with a long table at the center and chairs that look more like thrones.
The members sit in silence, their eyes cold and calculating. I recognize Elias immediately.
He's the one who came to my school, the one who warned me. He bows to Valentine, then turns to me, his gaze piercing.
"North," he says, his voice tainted with disdain. "We've been expecting you."
I force myself to stay quiet, to keep my eyes down. But it's hard. The tension in the room is suffocating, and I can feel their stares like a physical weight.
The king and queen sit at the head of the table, their presence commanding. I've never seen them before, but there's no mistaking who they are.
The king's eyes are the same golden hue as Valentine's, but colder, harder. The queen is elegant and beautiful. Her blonde hair falls in waves around her and her blue eyes are chilly.
The king speaks first, his voice like thunder. "You've caused quite a stir, hybrid. A vampire who walks in daylight. Unprecedented."
I swallow hard, my hands clenched into fists. "I didn't want to be."
"No," he says, his tone sharp. "But here you are. And now, we must decide what to do with you."
The queen leans forward, her gaze piercing. "Tell us, North. What are your abilities? And please spare the whole walking in daylight preamble. We know that much already. We want to know what other gifts you possess, if they might be useful to our course, and if you can be tamed easily."
I glance at Valentine, who gives me a slight nod. "I… I don't know yet. I'm still learning."
A council member snorts. "Still learning? You're a danger to us all."
Another chimes in, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Perhaps we should lock her up until she figures it out."
My temper flares, and I can't help but snap. "Maybe if you stopped treating me like a threat, I'd actually have a chance to learn for fuck sake!"
The room goes silent.
Oops.
The king's eyes narrow, and I feel a sudden pressure on my chest, like an invisible hand pushing me down.
I stumble, my knees hitting the floor hard. Blood trickles from my nose, the metallic taste filling my mouth.
Valentine steps forward. "Father, stop. She didn't mean—"
He raises a hand, silencing him. The pressure increases, and I can barely breathe. "You forget your place, hybrid. You are nothing but a mistake. And if you cannot control yourself, you have to be able to let your elders control you, or you will be dealt with."
The pressure lifts, and I gasp for air, my hands trembling. Valentine reaches for me, but I push him away, glaring at the king.
Before I can further kill myself by calling him a cunt, the queen beats me to it, her voice calm but firm. "Enough. Get out."
Valentine grabs my arm, pulling me to my feet. I want to argue, to scream, but the look in his eyes stops me. He's scared. For me.
"One job," he whispers as he leads me out. "You had one job."
"I lost it. Honestly, I'm sorry."
"What does it matter?"
"What do we do now?" I halt in my tracks.
He doesn't look at me, and his jaw hardens. "Now, we wait for them to make a decision and...try to survive. My parents won't kill me, that I'm confident. Punish me yes, but not kill me. I'm their heir. You on the other hand..."
"You promised you won't let them hurt me."
"That was before you thought it was a good idea to snap at someone who has been here five hundred years before I was born!"
His eyes are red with anger and his voice echoes in the darkness. "Not everyone is Achilles or me. Not everyone will take your entitlement, so you better put that aside if you know you want to live. No one here gives a fuck if you chose to be a Vampire or not. No one here chose to be a Vampire at some point in their lives!"
Tears sting at my eyes and I nod mutely at his words. Entitlement, he calls it?
I begin to walk off towards the direction of the car. He follows behind me, and I can hear him muttering series of curses under his breath.
We're fucked, he keeps repeating over and over again.
We're fucked.