The Lost Queen

Ch. 18: Queen's Arrival

There was something chilling about looking into the unfamiliar, dark gaze of someone you thought to be dead. Someone whose eyes Rayne had never seen before.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She'd seen them before. Once. But the crimson pool of rage wasn't there. The eyelids — they were closed, weren't they? Yes, they were closed. Only Jarrah would have remembered the color. Perhaps that was why he stood in front of Rayne now, stiff and protective. Stuck between knowing and not knowing.

His arm, rigid and tense, flew out at his side in front of her chest, ready to defend his family if need be. But that only made the cruel woman's lips curl with amusement. She surveyed her audience with elegant poise, despite the thick drapes of a midnight dress gliding across the floor after stepping out of the flames that flickered behind her. The sickening smile taking over her lips doesn't match the rage brewing beneath the crimson glow of her eyes.

Her steps bounced off the silent walls as she moved forward. The golden heat danced off her bronze skin in furious licks that only made the beautiful woman more terrifying. Especially when she caught the way Jarrah and Rayne both stiffened at the sight of her.

Rayne's mind reeled, her heart pounding in her chest at the impossible standing right in front of her. It wasn't possible. It . . . it couldn't be.

"Your highnesses," the woman murmured, bowing with amusement glittering in her smooth voice.

"Lilith," Rayne whispered, her eyes wide.

Jarrah pushed Rayne behind his body, which didn't go unnoticed by their uninvited guest, as she laughed under her breath.

"Oh, there's no need for that, King Jarrah. Murdering is your job, if I remember your breed correctly. I didn't come here to hurt any of you," she said, then paused. "Not tonight, anyway."

That sparked a wave of nervousness among the crowded ballroom.

Jarrah, who still stood in front of Rayne protectively, lifted his chin up with confidence. "Why are you here?" he demanded.

Rayne's eyebrows furrowed at the question. Out of all the things he could have asked . . . why would that be the first one to come out of his mouth? Shouldn't he ask how the woman they believed to be dead in the first place was even alive outside of her coffin? How Lilith, who Rayne assumed to be the lost queen, was alive when she very much remembered her being dead to the world?

Unless . . .

No. There was no possible way Jarrah knew and didn't tell her. How could she even think such a thing?

Rayne shook her head and drew her focus back to Lilith over Jarrah's shoulder, and found the vampire queen already looking at her. Watching. Assessing. Calculating her revenge on those who killed her lover, and whose ancestors murdered her.

Lilith shrugged her shoulders. Her eyes flickered back to Jarrah after he moved protectively in front of her, a wry smirk crossing her burgundy lips.

"I find your question rather . . . amusing, Your Highness," she admitted. "You knew I was coming, but you didn't know when, did you? You knew I came back."

Jarrah said nothing.

Rayne's heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. She looked back up at Jarrah, hoping it wasn't true. That her gut was wrong. Why wouldn't he tell her Lilith was alive?

"Such a clever king. Keeping secrets from your tekchi iskitini," Lilith continued, tsking. The slight drawl her fangs gave her, with the reference to Rayne being Jarrah's wife, almost made the vampire woman sound seductive. Just as Ambrosius sounded. "But I didn't come here to remind you of your obvious failures, King Jarrah. I came here to warn you. Something your people failed to do before murdering me."