The demon had grown even more relentless—ten more vampires had been slaughtered in just a week. King Valentin could hardly catch his breath. He pressed his fingers against his temple, trying to ease the pounding headache that refused to subside.
"Have you found Maris?"
It had been days since he first noticed his mistress's absence from the royal palace. The missing gowns from her wardrobe confirmed his suspicions that she had left of her own accord—neither forced nor taken.
She was chasing something. Or someone. And he had no doubt it had everything to do with Florian and the demon.
He cursed himself for realizing it too late. Then again, there had been too much on his shoulders—more than usual. Maris had slipped away while he was drowning in matters of the court, blood-soaked reports, and sleepless nights.
Even Lisbeth's persistent whispers about Florian had barely registered. His mind had been fraying at the edges, exhaustion dulling his once-sharp instincts.
