“Your Highness,” my vampire guard Daniel said as he stepped inside my room.

I didn’t think I would ever get used to being called that. After all, I was no prince. As a human, I’d been an eager swimmer, ready to conquer my first Olympics and get gold medals in as many categories as possible.

That person had died the moment Laila sank her fangs into my neck and damned me to an eternity of hell.

Daniel glanced at the empty glass on my nightstand, no hint of emotion flickering across his eyes. “Would you like another glass of blood?” he asked.

“No.” I walked over to the window, observing the nearby village. Lights were starting to flicker on in the small houses the humans lived in. Just as I, they were preparing to start their day. Well, night, since we operated on a nocturnal schedule in the Vale.

I turned back to face Daniel. “I would like to speak with Queen Laila,” I said.

He pressed his lips together, saying nothing. “Is it an important matter?” he finally asked. “As you know, the queen just returned from visiting the European kingdom, and she has to catch up on everything she missed in her absence.”

“It’s important.” I held his gaze with his, flexing my arms by my sides. “I’m ready.”

“For what?” he asked.

“To put myself in the presence of a human.”

* * *

Laila entered my room thirty minutes later, her trusted witch advisor Camelia following obediently behind her.

Camelia, as always, wore a glass pendant around her neck with a piece of wormwood inside. As a witch, she was the only mortal in the kingdom allowed to use wormwood to protect herself. Laila wore a short, flowing blue dress, and her raven colored hair flowed behind her, making her look more like a teen Hollywood starlet than a centuries year old monster.

She was the worst kind of monster—the kind you never saw coming.

I sure hadn’t.

On the night I’d met her in a bar, all I was thinking was that she was a beautiful girl, and that I wanted nothing more than to bring her back to my hotel room and see how far she was willing to go with me.

If someone had told me what she really was, I would have laughed in their face.

Because Laila wasn’t just an ordinary vampire. She was one of the original vampires.

There had been seven of them in all. All part of a cult of witches who were so determined to stay young and beautiful forever that they’d created a spell using dark magic to make them exactly what they’d wanted—immortal.

None of them knew it would turn them into monsters. At least, that’s what the six living originals claimed.

But I didn’t believe it. Because none of them seemed to hate what they were. In fact, they seemed to relish in it.

“Jacen,” Laila said my name, the slight lilt in her accent the only evidence that she wasn’t from this place and time. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Especially after what happened last time,” Camelia added with a smirk.

As always, the green-eyed witch loved to taunt me. I knew she was referring to four months ago—the last time I tried to drink from a human. They hadn’t been able to bring him through the door before I’d caught a whiff of his scent and lost myself to the haze of my bloodlust.

The next thing I’d known, I was staring at his corpse on the ground, the last bits of his blood dripping off my fangs and onto the polished marble floor by my feet.

“I suppose the loss of one human won’t be too big of a deal.” Camelia waved her hand and turned to Laila. “But of course, the decision is yours, Your Highness.”

Laila eyed me up thoughtfully, tilting her head and softly biting her blood red lip. “The loss of one human would be irrelevant,” she confirmed. “Daniel—go fetch one from the dungeons. An old one, who wouldn’t be much use to us anyway.”

Daniel rushed out of the room in a blur, returning ten minutes later dragging a thin, older man with a chain. “Sit,” he commanded the man, throwing him onto the nearest armchair.

The man cowered in the chair and curled up into a ball, shaking and not looking up at any of us.

I smelled his blood—the rich, thick liquid pulsing through his veins, and it was so tempting that my fangs itched to protrude. His jugular pulsed and pulsed, calling me closer.

But I swallowed down the urge, forcing my breaths to become shallow. I could control myself. I had to control myself.

It was the only way to prove that I was able to leave the palace.

“Very good.” Laila nodded after a full minute had passed.

“That’s it?” I asked her. “Are we done here?”

“No.” She pressed her lips together, mischief dancing in her bright blue eyes. “You’ve only proven that you can be around a human.”

“Isn’t that what I needed to prove?” I asked. “That I can be around them without losing control?”

“You’re a vampire prince.” She ran a finger along one of my arms and pulled away, smiling sinfully. “Your stamina needs to be stronger than that.”

“How so?” I clenched my fists tighter, ignoring her touch. Instead, I stared at the man’s neck again, dreading her next words.

“I want you to drink from him.”