Aldrich's unwavering stare narrowed upon the men and women of Eduardo's court, his frame stiffening and his chin raising as his brow arched.

He made enemies today, and he knows that, Devon thought vaguely, lost in the vampire's rage.

"Then, I shall speak for this woman," a firm voice stated with the low bur of the northlands barely audible in its educated tones.

A low gasp escaped the crowd, and her head jerked involuntarily toward the speaker.

Before then, she would have staked her life on the fact that the silence could not be any more complete or substantial. It had become a wall that surrounded and isolated her, but the barrier expanded to include one more.

Someone coughed, and the vampire lost it—snarling, hissing, lunging against the chains, tearing her charred flesh, and hurting her even more. Realizing that if she wanted to survive long enough to learn her fate, she would have to control it, Catherine mustered the last of her strength.

How foolish of him, she thought, gritting her teeth and shivering violently.

Like her, the spectators recognized that sultry baritone and identified its owner. Unease passed through the crowd in a restless wave, followed by outrage at his arrogance.

Aldrich was not the only one driven to overstep. She fought against the encroaching darkness at the edges of her vision. This day will have consequences for the human he does not yet grasp, she almost scoffed.

How pathetic that only one of them would have the unmitigated gall to intercede. Pain shafted through her body, and she briefly lost her train of thought. Does a mere mortal man have more guts than any of my kind?

Her lips again pulled into a snarl, but no sound escaped her.

"Human, you do not know this creature. What would you say that might save her life?" Eduardo spoke of her like a stray animal, as if she were one of his horses or human pets, putting away the dagger and sitting more upright.

The alertness of his expression told her that he had not foreseen this outcome, yet something else hid in his eyes. For a moment, she almost fooled herself into thinking it was relief.

Nay, he would not speak so of his dogs. She struggled not to get lost in the vortex of emotions inside her.

Eduardo's voice dripped with mocking disdain. His expression turned stark, and his irises glowed faintly blue. The tightness of his frame and fisted hands shouted his displeasure.

Father hates being thwarted, which might not end well for the mortal.

"Sometimes mercy can be crueler than punishment." The human's words echoed as if they were spoken in a confined space, not the massive courtyard.

Lord Darren straightened his broad shoulders, tilted his chin that already showed a five-o-clock shadow, and shifted his booted feet apart to stand his ground—stubbornly refusing to be cowed.

Although it is no plea for my life, she concluded, none of them expected anyone to have the guts to fight for me. Least of all, that a human would have such unequaled arrogance—in their minds, the die has been cast. I am already dead but do not yet know it.

The crowd's lack of response was reaction enough, speaking volumes of their sneering scorn.

Eduardo remained silent, his gaze narrowed upon the human, and the calculation in his eyes didn't bode well for Lord Darren or her.

"What brought you to that conclusion?" Hellenic interrupted the tension between the men with all the aplomb of innocence.

The bastard doesn't even hide his snide disrespect reserved for humans and anyone he views as "lesser" than himself, she fumed, trying not to give in to the dread slithering through her insides and the brutal agony of her wounds. Mortals are a tool for him to use and discard at his whim, nothing more. How had he deceived me for so long?

"Speak up; we're runni—" The Lord Chancellor halted mid-word.

Eduardo had silenced him imperiously, cutting him off with that arrogant wave of his hand. His daylight ring glinted in the sun.

She found it hard to ignore the scent of human, the strong rhythm of Lord Darren's pulse, and the way her vampire strained to be released to feast upon this brave but stupid man's blood.

Aldrich's dark brows almost touched, and another brief flash of blue glinted in his eyes, but his expression became neutral, masking his emotions.

Concentrating on the words they spoke became more challenging as a tremor started in her insides, and her throat turned as dry as dust. The vampire's hunger overshadowed everything else.

"You are right, Lord Dillon. Mercy can be crueler." The chill, cultured tones of her father's voice overrode her distraction and even her fear of the sun—even as the threat of its destructive light progressed.

There is no way to escape it this time, she realized, caving to her panic.

She'd run out of chain and leverage and was a mere hair's breadth from destruction. A whimper escaped her, and someone chuckled with delight.

Catherine's head came up, and her attention focused on her father. He and Aldrich stared at each other with hooded eyes, gauging and calculating the thoughts of their opponent.

The glorious, terrible heat nearly kissed her skin, yet she sensed some greater threat.

Catherine tensed, knowing precisely what it would feel, smell, and taste like when it inevitably touched her. Dread snaked through her abdomen like an eel through muddy water as she mentally braced herself.

"She deserves the ultimate punishment for a vampire," Eduardo murmured. "This traitor nearly had me assassinated because she didn't want to wait another thousand years to rule our lands," he hissed.

Hearing him say those words brought clarity—her father truly believed Hellenic's lies.

The Drake's undivided attention returned to Lord Dillon, and although it would make a vampire crumble to his knees, it didn't much affect the human. Only Lord Dillon's pupils narrowed, and his hands fisted.

"Fine, Lord Dillon—" Mocking malice coated Eduardo's words like sticky tar, and the ghost of a chilling, self-satisfied smirk pulled at those elegant lips.

The last time she saw that expression, he invaded their neighboring lands and killed their ruler. Nevac had proven a particular thorn in Eduardo's side for years until goading her father into taking direct action.

"You win," Eduardo drawled, returning her thoughts to the present.

Her mind went blank. The expressions on the faces of those around her told her she was not the only one who didn't know how to react or precisely what the statement meant.

Another quiet buzz interrupted the silence as the crowd speculated in whispers, but Eduardo's slight, annoyed frown abruptly cut them off.

None of them dare garner his ire, she deduced. In this unpredictable mood, they might end up sharing my fate.

"So, human, for your generosity in speaking in a matter that does not concern you, I will make this your problem by gifting her to you," Eduardo drawled.

The crowd gasped, and her heart froze.

Would he gift me to a human? The idea made no sense to her. In my current condition, my vampire will more than likely kill him before we reach the road out of sheer desperation to heal and flee this place. She licked her lips, then realized what she was doing. As she did, her gaze met with that of Lord Darren. His pupils narrowed, and a new kind of tension settled in his frame.

The man is no fool, she thought. He realizes this as well.

It took more than a frown from their king to silence them again. The guards stepped forward with their hands resting menacingly on their weapons.

"This woman will be a slave and your property. Treat her like any other servant. Catherine will clean your house and feed your animals, and we will no longer consider her one of our kind." That chilling lack of inflection gave weight to the words cutting into her, and only the guards drawing their weapons allowed Eduardo to continue uninterrupted.

What?! She was so stunned that even the vampire veered in shock, allowing her to regain complete control.

The king pivoted toward her, meeting her gaze for the first time in weeks, but his gaze held no clue to his frame of mind.

"Catherine Drake, you have no ties to me or any other vampire, and I condemn you to humanity."

For a moment, she only stared at him, and then his words sunk in. How could he do this to me? Catherine's mind drunkenly reeled from thought to thought. Why did he not just allow me to meet my fate with some semblance of dignity?

Not only was she no longer his daughter, but she also wasn't a vampire anymore. She had none of the rights afforded to her kind, and even taking human blood from a willing donor or an enemy would be a crime punishable by removing her fangs. There was no greater shame or punishment. And defanged vampires slowly deteriorated, taking decades to die, even if they had access to human blood.

Her vampire howled and rushed her with all its remaining strength, but she easily deflected it.

"You will be a servant and never be a lady or soldier again," Eduardo snarled, eyes blazing and teeth showing.

Yet a shadow of something almost like pity briefly broke through all of it.

Did that really happen, or is my mind playing tricks on me? she wondered as her eyes widened and her pupils contracted. It took a moment for her to absorb the impact of his words and grasp their meaning. She stared at the gray stone wall behind him as if it would explain what happened to her.

A frosty smile touched his lips, drawing her gaze back to him.

"Lord Dillon? You are now the proud owner of your own personal nothing," Eduardo announced.

The words struck her like a physical blow, and he kept eye contact with her to drive the point home with a ruthlessness he had never directed toward her.

A pin could drop at that moment, and even the humans would hear it.

Being a vampire, she never seriously considered her demise—not that she was a stranger to the concept of death. Although having slain many enemies, she had never entertained the idea of her end.

Catherine prayed for the sun to finish this farce, pleading silently for the oblivion it would bring.

If he allows me to die when the sun touches me, I will bear it in silence, she vowed.

"Then stop this," the Lord Chancellor implored.

Catherine's knee erupted into searing, scorching flame for the second time. She arched against the pain, cutting the bonds even deeper into her flesh, but her efforts offered her no relief or mercy from the devouring flames.

She expected the vampire to take advantage of the moment, but it was too weak.

"Let us teach Catherine this lesson and allow her to appreciate my compassion in letting her live. It will also make clear the consequences if any harm should befall her benefactor or any of his people." Absolutely no empathy colored Eduardo's voice.

Her arm smoldered and ignited.

No longer able to cling to her dignity, a scream tore from her. It changed pitch, turning into an animal howl for a second time, and it was her undoing—the dam broke.

Wracking sobs escaped her, but she was past caring. It grated on her nerves like the screech of tearing metal but ended so abruptly as to be almost unbelievable.

The touch on her hand and the familiar cold weight of her ring had barely registered. Once the enchanted metal touched her skin, it warmed, and the sun's rays became nothing more than the heat of the day—rendered harmless.

Catherine was too far gone to know who replaced it and thank them.

Her awareness returned in pulsing waves. However, her worn-out senses and weakened body struggled to process the change. Never had she imagined such torture or grasped its measure. The flames dispersed, leaving charred, raw wounds and puss oozing in rivulets before dripping to the ground and sizzling on the heated cobblestones.

She was only peripherally aware that her skin had flaked, and her hair had been singed short on one side. The fingers of her left hand revealed the bone, and even as the wounds oozed ichor and blood, they healed.

The familiar, comforting ache of thirst did not compare to the fiery burn of healing, knitting flesh. She gritted her teeth, clinging to consciousness.

I dare not be unaware of my fate, she thought.

Her mind struggled with understanding the unexpected relief as the sun once again benevolently shone down on her. She blinked like an owl caught in the light, but it didn't magically fix the damage that had been done.

Sobs still hiccupped from her, tears and snot mixed freely on her face. The scent of burned meat and scorched hair tainted the air and, shamefully, also urine and feces. She never imagined the depth of agony a person could endure and survive.

More astonishing than her returned immunity to the sun was the miracle of her body already beginning the slow healing process. Although the silver hampered this, even it did not have the power to counter the strength of her bloodline.

Yet there was a price to pay. Without blood to facilitate the healing process, it weakened her to the point where she was fast losing the ability to stop her vampire from taking over.

And it was feral.

Even in this state, she understood why Eduardo did this horrible thing to her. First and foremost, it was a display of power. Although Aldrich had forced his hand, the king had now established he was still firmly in command of his kingdom. Secondly, having endured what she just had and knowing he could do this to her again and again, she was infinitely less likely to disobey him.

Unfortunately, she feared that he had gone too far. The vampire tried to claw its way out of her, and holding it back was like trying to stop the flow of a river with her hands. She did not want to risk becoming a murderous menace like her ancestors.

Her attention shifted to Lord Darren.

Most of all, I don't want this man to be my first victim. She shut her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Whether he spoke up because she was a woman and he could not stand her suffering, or he didn't believe her guilty of treason and attempted murder, she had no idea.

Nor do I want to leave here only to be brought back for my father to finish what he started because I allowed my beast to take me over.