Wicked Matrimony (Legends and Lovers)

I hated leaving Allison after our romp in the bathroom, but it’s a fragile time for my clan, and I need to show dominance in all things.

“Yes.” I tell him how the new council will work. Basically, we won’t have to live in fear another clan will ruin things for us. If word ever got out that vampires exist, it would create havoc for our kind. We can’t allow that to happen. There must be rules. Civilized structure.

I scan the crowd, trying to locate Allison. Moments before Leonard arrived to speak with me, she was chatting with Lina and Stefania. Now, she’s nowhere around.

Lina chats with a brunette woman and Stefania is on the other side of the room, speaking to her husband, Arthur.

“Where are you?” I ask her mind.

I wait for her to answer, but she doesn’t. Dread settles in my gut, and I excuse myself from Leonard. There is no shimmering blonde hair in sight as I move throughout the party, looking for my wife.

“Have you seen Allison?” I ask Arthur.

He appears perplexed. “No, not for a while. Is she missing?” He sets his drink down on a nearby table, ready to begin looking if I demand it.

“I’m not sure.” I speak to Allison’s mind once again, asking her where she is. “I can’t find her, and she’s not answering.”

“Answering?” Arthur gives me a questioning look.

I shake my head. “Help me look for her. Find Viggo. He can help too.”

Arthur follows me through the crowd, heading toward Lina.

“Have you seen Allison?” I ask Lina, worry crawling like ants across my skin.

“No, I was talking to her earlier,” Lina says, glancing around. “Everything ok?”

“Not sure.”

Within a few minutes, I’ve gathered a search party.

And that’s when I spot her mask and crown on the ground at the side of the castle.

“Allison, please answer me.”

Twenty-Four

Allison

* * *

I feel like I’ve slept for a million years. It’s cold, and my head throbs as I try to open my eyes. The pain in my head won’t allow it. A low hum plays in my ears, and I try to locate the sound. It reminds me of when I was a child and sat on the couch reading while the soft hum of the air conditioner floated through the air.

Life was simple then.

Something says who over and over again. The fog in my head clears, and I realize it’s an owl.

My eyes open like slits, assessing my location. I can’t remember what happened before I fell asleep. The ground is hard beneath me, and I spy the moon resting in the sky, looking down at me, telling me something isn’t quite right.

I try to sit up, but the moon wobbles in the sky, so I lie back down, closing my eyes, and try to gain my bearings.

Pine needles prick my skin.

I’m in the forest.

Images flash behind my closed lids.

A masquerade ball.