Drogonny Bloodmoor's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Drogonny Bloodmoor crouched in the treeline outside the vampire kingdom's walls, counting the guards who should have knelt to him. He was the true heir to that throne. The old king sat on it anyway, because Drogonny's mother was a demon, and the court called him filth. Tonight he would wait for the signal fire. Then he would charge the gate and take back what his blood owed him. His black hair hung wet against his neck. Gold thread caught the moonlight along his legs. He had rehearsed the king's death a thousand times. But he had made a mistake, and her name was Catrina Nighthorror. She was the princess of the kingdom he meant to burn. Three nights now she had slipped out to meet him, past the wall, into the dark. He told himself he met her for information. That was a lie. He met her because when she laughed, the war in his chest went quiet. Her hair fell dark red and gold. Her black eyes held a red glow, and they found him before he ever made a sound. "You came back," Catrina said. She stepped from the shadows, her gown trailing gold and red over the leaves. "My father burns the signal fire at midnight. You know what that means." "It means I attack," Drogonny said. "It means you die." She closed the distance between them. "He knows a demon waits outside the walls. The guards are doubled. The fire isn't a signal. It's bait, for you." Drogonny's hand went to his blade. His whole plan cracked in his fist. If he charged tonight, he charged into a trap she had just handed him the key to escape. "Why tell me this?" he asked. "I came here to kill your father. You know that." "I know." Catrina didn't step back. "He killed my mother the same way he cast you out. For being inconvenient." She pressed something cold into his palm. A key, old iron, warm from her hand. "The servants' gate below the courtyard. It opens from the inside. I can open it." Drogonny stared at the key. He had come to destroy her house. She was offering to open the door. "If this is a trap too," he said, "I'll know." "Then don't trust me yet." She took his face in both hands. Her thumbs pressed against his jaw. "Trust that I want him dead more than you do." He kissed her. He didn't decide to. It simply happened, and when it ended, he knew his war had changed shape. He was no longer a stranger at the gate. He was the man the princess would betray her father for. At midnight the fire bloomed over the wall, orange and hungry. Drogonny did not charge. He turned from the open field and followed Catrina toward the hidden gate. His enemy had set a trap for an outsider. He would come through a door no outsider had.