Page 4 of His Stolen Queen
Despite David's attempts to assure me to the contrary, Courtney did not like me. Not that I blamed her. I would feel some type of way if my boyfriend had a close female friend whom he insisted on bringing around like some awkward third wheel. It didn't help the simmering tension between Courtney and me. Finally, I had to sit him down and explain why it wasn't a good idea for me to tag along on their date nights.
"So, your birthday…" he started, a cheeky grin on his face.
"Is going to go by like any other day."
"Alice," he cajoled. "You're eighteen. We gotta do something."
I zipped up my backpack and gathered my food wrappers, pointedly ignoring him.
His hand fell gently on my shoulder, stopping my movements. "It's a big deal," he softly added.
I knew he was delicately referring to the fact that, technically, I'd aged out of the foster system. Although I was still under the state’s care, receiving monetary and council support until I turned twenty-one.
I tossed my backpack over my shoulder and stood, relieved not to have his body so close to me anymore.
"Come over for a movie," I offered, ignoring his previous comments. "Bring Courtney."
He stood with me, quickly glancing at his girlfriend before shaking his head. "Nah, I think she has a thing tonight," he vaguely stated. "Let's doUnderworld."
"No!" I yelled.
He jerked his head back at my sudden outburst, his brow rising in surprise.
I gave a stilted laugh and smiled at him apologetically, my cheeks heating. "Sorry. I-I think I had a nightmare last night," I explained. "No horror movies tonight, please."
He smiled, his eyes glittering in happiness. "Sure, comedy it is. Now c'mon, birthday girl." He threw an arm around my shoulder and guided me to his friends.
Chapter 2
Acheron
"Why can I not find her?" I growled in frustration; the rough timbre of my voice vibrated off the walls in my throne room. "She's eighteen. Surely she should have been revealed to me by now?"
I surveyed my Elders, piercing them with an accusatory glare. They glanced anxiously at each other; the stench of their nervous unease permeated the air. Collectively, the ages of Hammon, Styro, and Henk totaled 5000 years, yet I doubted they held one brain cell between the three of them.
"My King." Hammon hesitantly stepped forward, his arms outstretched as he pleaded for understanding. "This is certainly uncharted waters for all of us. We've contacted our brothers in all seven Territories, and they agreed that her presence should have been announced in the girl's eighteenth year. We need time to research more—"
"It's been two years since she turned eighteen!" I roared, launching my goblet at the wall. Crimson liquid splashed against the gray stone, dribbling slowly down.
"You should have devoted those years to finding firm answers. I have no time for hypotheses. Not when she's out there…unprotected."
I swallowed thickly, my mind twisting away from fostering the unthinkable. The longer we were separated, the harder it was for my mind not to conjure up the most harrowing scenarios. Fear clouded me at the thought of my precious fated mate somewhere in the world—exposed. My gut clenched at the foreign emotion.
Her very existence was a miracle, not only for me but for the very core of the Vampire species. At the same time, if the BloodKin discovered that a Vampire King had a bond-mate, they would not hesitate in hunting her down to be tortured for leverage or slaughtered on sight.
The full effect of our mating bond would not ignite until her eighteenth birthday, when her presence would be revealed to me. Compared to my three hundred plus years, a mere eighteen was a drop in a bucket…a blink of an eye.
But when her eighteenth year came and went, there was simply…nothing. No physical or mental pull, no thoughts revealed to me…no strange Being landing on my doorstep to identify herself as my Queen.
That meant she was either another Being or…
"Tell us again of the vision you had. Perhaps we have missed a clue," Henk offered.
I rubbed my forehead in frustration. "As I have told you, I did not get a look at her face."
It had been two years and one month since she'd turned eighteen, yet I drew on her vision constantly, enamored by the small snapshot I had of her. I'd also hoped that a new clue would somehow materialize—something familiar or discernibleso I would have a starting point for tracing her. But nothing new ever came to me. Still, I closed my eyes, bringing up the vision that appeared to me the night she turned eighteen.
Silky black hair down to her waist. It shimmered and shook as she slowly walked along an unseen footpath, her head down.
