This was the one place Gillian vowed she would not return, and her very presence undid her whole bid for independence.

She chose to shear away the chains of family and leave behind the cold halls, unforgiving bonds, restrictions, and rules. The frustrating games of power, and pointless politics, only to find the world outside much the same, until she became part of a team of people as close as family. She finally learned what it felt like to have a real connection with warmth, caring, laughter, fun, and silliness mixed into the small moments of every day. Things her grandfather smothered in her, hoping she would never become like her mother and be a fool for humans and leave their world.

Gillian would bet they didn't even care if she was dead or alive and always knew that if she ever returned, there would be judgment.

Yet, here she stood, waiting to see The Master, like every other mundane standing in line to tell him that she became a fool for her humans and ask if he could "pretty please" help her kill the monster vampire threatening them.

She could barely breathe at the thought of seeing him, and the great old hallway seemed like a fancy trap or a cage, the walls threatening to close in around her.

Her heart wanted to burst from her chest, and the myth that a vampire's heart does not beat would have been preferable since it refused to obey her bidding like a beacon announcing her terror to her grandfather and his entire court.

"Princess? The Grand Master will see you now."

The title didn't register until the servant cleared his throat a second time, and she realized the room's other two occupants had left.

Gillian's breathing hitched up another notch, and she nodded, subconsciously straightening her shoulder, checking her dark leather jacket and black jeans, and lifting her chin. She should have dressed more appropriately, and she should have—

No, she would not doubt herself now, nor would she cower before them.

They approached those massive doors, and she watched them open as she had done a thousand times before, but it didn't feel the same.

It was too late to turn back or run.

Her stomach churned, her knees shaking, and it reminded her of all the times she disobeyed and had to face the consequences, but what she did was a thousand times worse than even the gravest of her former transgressions.

Her grandfather would call her before the elders to be judged as a traitor to their kind and punished, and although the servant mistakenly called her "Princess," running away rendered her clan-less, unprotected, and without rights.

They could kill her without hearing her out or have her tortured and thrown in the dungeons, but she had to try. She had a bad feeling about the vampire out there, and her intuition rarely steered her wrong.

***

"Gillian Beaumont," a voice scoffed, and she came to a standstill on the slightly worn spot of marble marking the end of the walkway. How many stood here before her to accept their fate?

This was the closest any living creature would get to the Grand Master without his explicit permission, and she automatically lowered her gaze. Even when she was still his granddaughter, she dared not look at him directly without his consent, and her current rogue status marked her as less than a dog among their kind.

"Was the name I gave you not good enough, Guiliane Beaumont?" He demanded without having to raise his voice for it to echo off the walls and the ceiling with the power of his presence, and she frowned, instinctively lifting her head when she realized it wasn't her grandfather.

She had forgotten how it felt to stand here and just how potent a vampire her father was—the last person on earth she expected. He had more or less ignored her while her grandfather was too invested in preventing her from turning into her mother.

Gabriel's father died when he was a youngling, and the elders assigned the Grand Master as his guardian. The marriage between Gideon's daughter and Gabriel Beaumont was arranged before Elizabeth's birth.

She lowered her gaze instantly, curtsying and not daring to rise. He rarely interfered in council matters, and she never expected to see him in the grand hall. Her life was in his hands, and she feared his wrath even more than that of Gideon.

"Let her rise, Gabriel," someone suggested, and she sensed Gideon a moment before she heard his voice.

He was the only man who dared call their king by his name and chastise him before his council. She never expected him to extend even such a small courtesy to a rogue.

"I did not wish to cause insult by using a name to which I forfeited the right. The words strangled her.

"You should have thought about that before you stormed off into the world," Gideon growled, and Gillian's skin crawled at the sound of his anger.

***

Their traditions dictated that the king had three titles within the three great kingdoms, which tied him to the High King—Maximus. To that end, custom decreed that he marry three royal princesses.

The first to bear him a son became queen—her title and loyalties aligned with the house of Bordeaux. That son was Gillian's older brother, Dorian. Whom she only ever saw from afar on royal occasions.

The second woman to give Gabriel a child automatically became his first princess, and her title and loyalties lay with the Le Roux family. Elissa, Gillian's older sister, was a stranger she saw even less of and barely ever spoke to since she was a child.

The third wife, Gillian's mother—Elizabeth Carmella—belonged to the Beaumont family. The children of these marriages formed allegiances with the other two kingdoms and their six houses, but such things happened at the discretion of the High King, Maximus Udo.

He designed such unions or other alliances according to his best interest, but to forge them, he had to have the approval of his three kings, which was a delicate matter.

The twelve houses may have changed their names to shake off human suspicion over the centuries, but their essence remained the same. Members were pure-blood royalty, and they were the seat of true power. The council could only be chosen from among their ranks, and they answered only to the Maximus, dealing only with matters threatening the whole of vampire or humankind.

The full council convened only in dire times or during changes in power. The rest of the time, Gideon dealt with matters of justice in Gabriel's kingdom.

As the world grew, the three kingdoms, once there were twelve, shifted. Khalif dealt with the East, Australia, and Africa, Markovic with Europe and Britain, and Gabriel with the America's.

Unlike humans, vampires respected boundaries and regarded the rules governing territories, and not doing so had only one consequence.

She shifted her weight, her rambling thoughts amping up her fear instead of distracting her from the silence in the room, the hostile eyes watching her, and the two men whose blood ran in her veins.

Once the council got involved, it was a matter of honor, and they had no mercy for those threatening their existence. She could only hope that the killer she chased concerned them enough to hear her out before their attention shifted to her.

She suffered no illusions. She had abandoned her legacy, betraying her bloodline, disrespecting Gabriel, and, most importantly, Maximus. Her only hope for any kind of lenience lay in the fact that she was the last pureblood Beaumont, and her powerful bloodline would end with her if they decided to execute her.