Drop Dead Single (Monstrana Paranormal Romance 1)

“See?” Jezebel pointed an accusing finger at her and turned to address the platform. “She’s a deceitful mortal who’s been masquerading as a vampire. Thanks to a magical ring, she’s fooled us all. She’s nothing but a vamp chaser intent on a crown.”

Cate wrapped her arms around her torso, feeling the room closing in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. His grandparents would hate her. She couldn’t even look them in the eyes, but she felt the weight of their gaze from the platform.

“I ought to tear your head off right now,” Viktor snarled. The blue veins on his neck strained.

“I did you a favor,” Jezebel spat, blood spraying. “You should’ve been proposing to me tonight. Instead, you fell victim to her lies. She has you under some spell.”

Viktor shuddered with rage. “No one has me under their spell. You’re the one spewing lies.”

Cate could tell that in a few more seconds, he was going to lose control. Do something he might regret. She rushed to his side and placed a hand on his arm. He stiffened under her touch for a moment, his glare still firmly planted on the vampiress in front of him.

“Viktor,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m okay.”

That seemed to disrupt his rampage. He looked down at her, his body relaxing beneath her hand. The anger in his eyes faded into sorrow as he gingerly touched the bite mark on her neck.

“Oh, Cate.” He pulled her into his arms and pressed her against his chest. She gladly submitted, soaking in the warmth of his arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry,” he repeated over her head.

It wasn’t his fault they’d underestimated Jezebel’s decency. And despite the anger burning inside her own head for the vampire, Cate couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the woman. She couldn’t lose gracefully. Someone had twisted her into an ugly soul intent on taking what wasn’t hers. Even if Cate hadn’t been in the picture, Jezebel never would’ve won him over. But she couldn’t see that. Instead, she’d let rage consume her until she behaved no better than a monster. A true monster.

Cate could’ve stayed wrapped up in Viktor’s arms forever, but when a desperate cry went out, they pulled apart. Queen Anna was supporting a frail King Borwin as he collapsed to the ground clutching his stomach.

“Help,” she cried, grasping his shoulders. Her blue eyes widened in terror and a tremor went through her body. “He’s dying.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

CATE SHIFTED HER WEIGHT from foot to foot as she waited in the hallway outside the King and Queen’s grand suite. People rushed in and out the doors, barely giving her a second glance. After his collapse in the ballroom, King Borwin had been swiftly carried to his room by his two grandsons.

Things hadn’t looked so good from her angle. The King’s skin was paper thin and white. He’d seemed as frail as a doll, so unlike the regal man who strode out onto the balcony only days ago, when this whole thing started.

Was that really only a few days ago? She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to remember the events of the last week. Everything was starting to blur together. Her life had unequivocally changed in a mere handful of hours. It would never be the same. No matter what happened today.

“How is he?” Miranda came running down the hall, holding a purple clutch in her hand. The long hours of the night had left mascara smudged under her eyes. “How are you?”

“As far as I know, King Borwin’s still hanging on,” Cate said breathlessly. “And I’m fine.”

Miranda raised an eyebrow and stared pointedly at the dried blood on her shoulder.

“Really, I’m okay,” Cate said, waving her hands. The horror of Jezebel’s attack was nothing compared to the anguish rolling inside her now. Although she’d never met King Borwin, she felt deeply for Viktor and the panic that must be filling him at that moment.

“Catherine Shea Mahoney,” Miranda said, placing a hand on her hip. “An evil drama queen just used you as her personal blood bag. Don’t tell me you’re okay. That’s not okay. If I ever find that woman, I’ll tear her apart.”

Miranda’s eyes turned black and Cate had no doubt her promise was real. She placed a hand on her friend’s arm and squeezed, thankful for the support. It was good to have someone on her side for once. And now that the truth was out, she could feel the weight leaving her shoulders. Come

good news or bad, at least she could be honest now. And she honestly hoped Viktor’s grandfather would make it through the night.

Suddenly, a muffled cry came through the thick double doors. Cate and Miranda exchanged concerned expressions, gripping each other’s hands. The doors opened and people poured into the hall. Each one of their faces was stricken with grief, tears rolling down some cheeks. The cry came louder now and Cate recognized it as Queen Anna’s voice.

After several minutes, a familiar curly-haired head came through the door. Stasia still wore the white gown she’d donned for the ceremony. The bun at the back of her neck was no longer able to contain her masses of hair. Curls spilled out around her face and she rubbed a weary eye with her fist. She spotted Cate and went to her.

“King Borwin has passed,” she said, her voice weak. Grief pulled at her mouth and settled into the bags under her eyes.

“Oh, no.” Cate pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.

Miranda groaned through her teeth. “No...”

“Poor Viktor.”

“That’s King Viktor now,” Stasia corrected, lifting her chin slightly as the tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. She grabbed Cate’s hands and held them tight. “He’s going to take this loss hard, Cate. He’ll need you to get through it.”