CHAPTER 383: NOTHING BUT A WHISPER

Vincent/Vaelthor~

The air still carried Katrina’s scent when I stepped out from the shadows — roses and sunlight, like a sin pretending to be holy. I’d lingered just long enough to memorize every word of their little morning conversation, every hesitation in Nicholas’s tone, every flicker of worry in her eyes. My footsteps cut through the silence as I slipped along the garden path, letting the world around me blur into the background.

The maze loomed ahead like an old beast with thorny ribs. Beyond it, the abandoned fountain sat in ruins — a relic the palace had long forgotten. Sylthara always found the weirdest places when she wanted to disappear, and sure enough, I found her perched on the crumbling edge, the fountain’s water stagnant and mirror-still beneath the gray morning sky.

She was hugging her knees to her chest, hair loose around her pale face like strands of sunlight. Her magic hung heavy in the air, coiling and tightening with every breath she took.

"I can feel you staring," she muttered without turning around.

"You make it easy to stare," I answered lightly, letting a smile ghost across my lips as I stepped closer. "Brooding suits you."

She shot me a sharp look, the corner of her mouth twitching but never quite softening. "What do you want, Vaelthor?" Her voice cracked a little at the end. "I need to be alone."

"Yeah," I said, circling to face her, "but unfortunately, I’m selfish."

She let out a small, bitter laugh. "I noticed."

I crouched down in front of her, the shadows stretching and curling behind me like eager hounds. "I heard something, Syl. In the garden. Katrina and Nicholas. You’re going to want to hear this."

She frowned, leaning back slightly. "Vaelthor..."

"Alexander suspects us," I cut in, my tone soft but deliberate. "And Nicholas agrees with him."

Her body stiffened, just barely — a flicker, but I caught it.

"You’re lying," she whispered.

I tilted my head. "You really think I’d come all the way out here just to lie to you? Alex is already looking for cracks. Nicholas said he doesn’t want to keep fighting Katrina about Alex’s suspensions, but he also didn’t deny anything. He agreed with him, Syl."

She shook her head, her voice shaky but stubborn. "No. Nicholas wouldn’t. He—he’s not like that."

I leaned in closer, so close that my breath brushed against her ear. "He’s exactly like that when it’s about his precious royal family. Don’t forget where his loyalty lies."

Her jaw tightened, and I could see the war raging in her eyes. She wanted to believe me... but Nicholas was the one place she allowed herself to be soft. That softness was a weakness I needed to protect—and use.

"You don’t know what he said," she hissed. "You could’ve misheard. Or twisted it like you always do."

"I don’t twist the truth, little sister." My voice was a low murmur now, threaded with the darkness that always lingered beneath my skin. "I sharpen it."

Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but nothing came out. She turned away from me, hugging her knees tighter, staring into the stagnant water as if it could give her answers.

"I’ll prove it," I said, straightening up. "I’ll show you exactly where their loyalties are."

She didn’t look at me, but the silence that followed wasn’t a refusal. It was a crack. And cracks spread.

The sun climbed higher as we walked back toward the palace. Its warmth touched my skin like something alien. It had always been too bright here—too golden. The kind of light that didn’t welcome things like me.

By the time we reached the entrance, the great hall was already buzzing. It was almost 8 a.m., and the entire royal family was gathered in the grand dining room, their laughter echoing against the polished stone walls.

The long oak table stretched nearly the length of the room, set with silver plates, crystal glasses, and more food than most villages would see in a week. Fresh bread still steamed, fruit gleamed in the light, and roasted meats perfumed the air with spice and honey.

And there they were. The golden family.

King Zane sat at the head of the table, radiating Alpha authority without even trying. His blonde hair was impeccable as ever, and his presence was unchanged—sharp, commanding, the kind of man who could silence a room just by breathing.

Queen Natalie sat to his left, celestial light practically humming around her. Even when she wasn’t using her magic, she looked untouchable, the kind of woman who could level empires with a single frown.

Katrina sat two chairs down, dressed in soft cream and gold, her reddish-blonde hair catching the sunlight like fire. She caught sight of me walking in and her face lit up, just a little—soft, unguarded. Dangerous.

Alexander sat beside her, posture stiff, his jaw tight like a man who carried the weight of the world and was just waiting for an excuse to throw a punch.

But it was the unfamiliar face that caught my attention. Nicholas’s mother.

Cassandra Lawrence.

It had to be her. I’d heard stories about her—warrior, vampire slayer, beauty wrapped in iron. But stories didn’t do her justice. She was tall, lean, and every inch of her screamed lethal elegance. Her brown hair was braided down her back like a whip, her silver-gray eyes sharp enough to cut through glass.

Even the air shifted around her.

Sebastian sat beside her, relaxed and charming, the opposite of his wife’s quiet storm. He raised a glass at me with a sly smile, the kind that said he was already judging me but was entertained enough to let it slide.

"Vincent. Winter," Zane said, his voice smooth but firm. "Good morning."

I inclined my head respectfully, hiding the sharpness beneath my smile. "Good morning, Your Majesty."

Natalie’s gaze lingered on me a second too long, as if she could feel the shadows curled beneath my skin. I returned her stare with a polite one of my own.

Katrina gestured for me to sit beside her. The moment my hand brushed the back of her chair, I felt the hum of the mate bond thrumming between us—a tether of warmth and danger tangled together. She leaned close enough for her shoulder to graze mine.

"Where were you?" she whispered.

"Walking," I lied effortlessly. "I needed some air."

Her lips curved into a soft smile. "I was hoping you’d sit next to me."

I gave her the kind of look that always made her cheeks warm and glanced up at Alexander. His knuckles tightened around his fork.

Perfect.

Breakfast began with the usual formal chatter. Zane asked Nicholas about his training sessions. Sebastian cracked a joke that made half the table laugh. Katrina rolled her eyes. Sylthara kept her head down, stabbing at a piece of bread like it owed her money. Nicholas looked distracted, and his gaze kept drifting to her.

She refused to look back at him.

Good.

I waited until conversation swelled—just loud enough to bury a whisper, just soft enough for the right words to land where I wanted them to.

"It’s strange," I said quietly, as if speaking only to Katrina. "How even at breakfast, I can still feel the room watching me."

To be continued...