A Plea Before the Court

AYA

I was praying that my face didn’t give away my anxiety. As I moved forward, I could feel every muscle in my body tighten, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

I was still trembling from the run. My body was spent, completely worn out. The scent of every human in the room, each one attached to a pureblood, made my throat burn. I was certain they could all sense it—my exhaustion, my thirst.

I was a newly turned vampire, weak and trying to make my voice heard.

The crowd of pureblood vampires around me sneered and wrinkled their noses as I passed, making my breath hitch. My emotions had been a whirlwind for the past few days. I’d come dangerously close to becoming the ripper I’d learned to control a century ago.

I’d been on the brink of losing myself to the blood and the rage. Tom had to smuggle us out of the hotel after I’d caused such a commotion. He’d pointed us in the right direction and then recoiled from having anything to do with me.

Behind me, I could feel the weight of Anthony’s gaze. Despite his warnings, he’d still accompanied me all the way here.

The crowd of purebloods parted for me, and I finally saw him. He looked healed, but his clothes were soaked with his blood. I could only imagine the state he’d been in when they captured him.

I squared my shoulders, hoping my display of confidence would mask my inner fear. I’d been among the pureblood families before, only to be ignored or dragged out and tormented for the royal family’s amusement. I steeled my expression.

Times had changed. It wasn’t the same family. And Alexander needed me.

“I’d like to plead for Alexander’s life.”

My voice sounded too loud—unsteady.

The two royals stared back at me, the man looking somewhat puzzled by my presence, while the woman just looked furious. Her eyes flashed crimson, and her thick lips pulled back to reveal white fangs. Her fingers clenched the arms of her chair, nails digging into the old velvet.

Time seemed to crawl.

“All right,” the male finally agreed, with a slight nod of his head.

“Aya, please don’t,” Alexander’s voice was low—urgent. A shiver ran through me at his broken tone. I could feel him trying to hold my gaze.

“Please, introduce yourself and your proof,” the male royal insisted.

I took a deep breath. “My name is Aya. I was born in Cairo in 1903. In 1923, I met Alexander Night, and he turned me. We fell in love. His family used me to force him to return to the throne. I worked for the royal family for a century before their reign came to an end. When our paths crossed again a few weeks ago, I agreed to accompany him.” I paused. “The Shahalias hunted us, and when they captured me, I was tortured and used as bait to lure in Alexander.”

“Can you be explicit on the torture?” the male royal insisted. The redhead next to him hissed.

“I was shot with an arrow, beaten, and hung up. During daylight, a human had free rein to open or close the curtains.”

Alexander cursed.

“He planned on raping me and putting me into a whorehouse, which held many other turned vampires,” I continued.

“Lies,” a furious-looking pureblood female snarled beside me. I recognized the light-brown color of her skin. She was a Shahalia.

My blood seemed to boil when I turned on her. “You know what your family has been up to. You had no interest in turning Alexander in. You wanted to display him as a play toy—broken and humiliated,” I snarled.

“This filthy turned vampire’s words mean nothing,” she declared. “She’s not a pureblood. She’s not of the ruling families. She has no voice in this court.”

“She didn’t fifty years ago,” the male royal agreed. “But my sister has changed that. Turned vampires have as much weight in court as a pureblood—though she is clearly biased.”

I turned back to him quickly. “Alexander saved me from the Shahalia clan who’ve been abusing turned vampires for centuries.”

“Witnesses claim he had Jahan Shahalia under his foot. He killed him when he no longer posed a threat to you,” the redhead declared, her gaze narrowing on me.

“Jahan Shahalia was an abuser and a violent pureblood,” I countered. “Alexander ended his reign of terror.”

“No other turned vampire has come forward,” the male royal murmured.

“Maybe it’s because they’re still trapped and suffering. We weren’t exactly in a position to liberate anyone. For the longest time, the claims of turned vampires were completely ignored. Do you honestly believe the survivors would seek help from the royal family? When they could just run away?”

I let my words hang in the air. “I know another person who’s seen their torture chambers,” I added.

The male royal’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Is that witness here?”

I nodded and gestured toward the crowd. Anthony separated himself from one of the pillars and made his way through the throng.

He bowed deeply before the royals, his gaze darting to Caroline in her cage. Caroline’s eyes were wide, her mouth agape in shock.

“Your Highnesses,” Anthony began, his voice steady and deep. “Some of you may recognize me, though I doubt it. Purebloods don’t pay much attention to turned vampires. I served as the late vampire king’s royal guard for centuries. I was always by his side. I defended him and his family from every danger. He didn’t value the lives of turned vampires. But I do. I saw the Shahalia fighting ring and the pleasure house that King Lucius frequented. I saw both Jahan and Varun Shahalia abuse their turned vampire slaves, tormenting and degrading them. They kept them imprisoned for centuries, slowly starving them, and then discarding them.”

“You can’t seriously believe these lies,” the irate Shahalia female spat.

The male next to her, who bore a striking resemblance to Jahan, hissed at Anthony, taking a step toward him. “How dare you,” he snarled.

Anthony held his gaze. “I remember everything you did to them,” he retorted. “Your time has finally come, Varun.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, you disgusting piece of decayed flesh,” Varun hissed back, showing his fangs.

“Enough!” the male royal commanded. His gaze landed on Anthony. “Do you know where these turned vampires are being held?”

“I know many places,” Anthony replied.

The male royal pursed his lips.

“These turned vampires are clearly under Alexander’s control. They’re working for him. Spreading lies,” Varun barked.

“Even if they are, their allegations need to be looked into,” the redhead responded tersely.

“That’s nonsense!” the female Shahalia exclaimed.

“That’s how Eleanor has chosen to govern,” the redhead retorted.

“Human weakness,” the Shahalia female muttered.

“Watch your words, Aleesha,” the male royal cautioned. “You brought your accusations to us; we investigated and found Alexander guilty. But he has the right to defend himself, and he has two witnesses supporting his claims. So, we must investigate.”

“Turned vampires can’t be reliable witnesses,” Varun insisted. “It always had to be purebloods.”

“That’s changed,” the redhead replied. Her gaze met mine. “Now turned vampires are allowed to speak up. And I’m eager to hear more.”

Her tone left no room for doubt. She believed me more than the two squabbling purebloods beside her.

“Given the serious allegations against Jahan Shahalia and the Shahalia clan, I will recommend an investigation to gather more evidence,” the male royal decided. He reached out and took the redhead’s hands, intertwining their fingers.

His lips tightened. “Therefore, for today’s court case, Alexander Night will not be sentenced to death. He will be exiled from pureblood society for the next fifty years, to serve right here with his family while an investigation into the Shahalia family is conducted.”

I let out a shocked gasp. I immediately turned toward Alexander, my heart pounding and my blood thundering in my ears.

The room exploded around us—complaints were yelled, and bodies surged toward us, seeking their revenge on him. I could feel their eyes on me, their fangs bared as they rushed forward.

Alexander pushed against the henchman holding him on his knees, throwing them off, and then he reached for me. I melted into his embrace, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, pressing my body against his, my face buried in his chest.

I felt his arms lock around me—an unyielding grip. His scent enveloped me, cocooning me. His lips were against the top of my head, his fingers digging into my skin.

I felt the wave of bodies crash into us, but Alexander held on. The scent of blood filled the air.

“My Aya,” Alexander’s voice cooed. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I gasped. I hadn’t realized I’d started crying; my bloody tears soaked his torn shirt.

My heart pounded like a drum in my chest. The room was a whirlwind of chaos, bodies pressing in from all sides. The air was filled with the shrill screams of the crowd and the metallic clash of weapons.

The royals’ commands and the grunts of their henchmen as they corralled the purebloods were a constant background noise.

Alexander’s heartbeat echoed mine. He whispered in my ear, “Aya, I didn’t want you here. You shouldn’t have put yourself in danger like this.” His hand cradled my face, lifting it gently. His thumb brushed away my tears. “Especially when I can’t protect you.”

“I came to protect you this time,” I murmured, my fingers clutching his shirt tighter.

His smile was so tender it nearly shattered me.

“I love you,” he said, his lips brushing mine in a soft, gentle kiss. Then, with a sudden urgency, his tongue pushed past my defenses.

His arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around him, pressing myself against him as closely as I could.

My fingers tangled in his hair, my chest pressed against his. I couldn’t get close enough. His taste was intoxicating. His hand was on my face, controlling our kiss.

I could feel the crowd pressing in on us, shoving us. But Alexander was a rock, his hold on me unyielding. For a moment, we were invincible—the only two people in the room.

Then the scent of his fresh blood hit me, and I gasped. He pulled back, his hand still cradling my cheek, lifting my face to his.

My heart was racing, my emotions a whirlwind. I could see the concern in Alexander’s eyes. He could feel my fear, my love for him, my terror.

“You’re hurt,” I said, noticing the Shahalia vampires behind him, trying to hurt him again, the guards barely holding them back.

“My only regret is not holding onto you tighter. I let you go, and it destroyed me. I deserve everything that’s come for me since you slipped away from me,” Alexander whispered.

“Don’t say that,” I gasped. “You deserve love, Alexander.”

He kissed my forehead, holding me close.

“I love you too much, Little Bird,” he murmured. The crowd surged behind us, and I was ripped from his arms. Rough hands dragged me back and threw me to the ground.

Alexander roared and lunged forward.

“Don’t you dare,” a male royal’s voice boomed, stepping between Alexander and me.

Alexander’s eyes met mine as I pulled myself to my feet. “I’m all right,” I assured him.

“Take him back to the dungeons until we sort this mess out,” the redhead ordered.

“No, Alex!” I cried, lunging after him. A long, pale arm caught me and pulled me back. I turned, ready to fight, but the redhead’s gaze stopped me.

“Don’t risk it,” she warned.

The crowd had quieted down, standing back, hissing and snarling, wiping blood from their sharp nails. The Shahalias were being pushed out of the room, struggling and shouting as they went.

Alexander was quickly dragged out of the hall behind them, four henchmen gripping him, one holding a blade to his throat. He didn’t resist, but his eyes never left mine.

“I will wait for you,” I whispered, knowing he could hear me, could feel the emotions coursing through me.

His eyes widened for a split second before he was pulled out of the room and out of sight.

The redhead let me go, and I stumbled, barely catching myself. I could feel the eyes of the pureblood families on me, their hatred palpable. I straightened my shoulders and held my head high. I was done being intimidated by purebloods.

I scanned the crowd, spotting Anthony by the cages holding the other Night family members. Caroline’s fingers had slipped through the bars and were gripping his. Anthony’s head was pressed against the bars as they spoke in hushed tones.

The youngest Night sibling, Jessica, watched them with wide eyes. It wasn’t until I shifted my gaze that I realized Alexander’s mother was staring at me.

I had seen her many times since the night we’d first met, but she’d never looked at me since that night. Her eyes were a dark crimson, tears streaking down her small face. She was wearing a torn, filthy red dress, one I recognized from her wardrobe.

Her lips parted just slightly, and her head bowed an inch as she lowered her gaze. I stared until she lifted her head again.

The gravity of her gesture didn’t escape me. She might have been a dethroned queen, but she was still one of the most potent purebloods in the room. And she had just bowed her head to me.

It was her way of saying thank you for saving her son.

“Aya.” My name echoed in the room. It was the male royal, his gaze fixed on me with a careful intensity.

“We need you to come with us and provide a written statement of what happened.”

I nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation.

“Of course.”

My eyes followed Anthony as he separated himself from the former royals’ cage and strode toward us. His eyes were ablaze with a fiery crimson, his anger almost palpable as he halted in front of the royals.

“They’ll be released from their cage and given proper food, not cold pig’s blood,” he declared, his voice sharp. “Then we’ll share what we know about the Shahlias.”

The red-haired royal seemed taken aback, but her partner nodded in agreement.

“That can be arranged—as long as they all stay put for the next fifty years.”

“This won’t be a witch hunt,” the male royal cautioned. “And if no evidence is found, Alexander will face trial again for murder.”

I couldn’t help but snarl at his words, but Anthony held my wrist, pulling me back.

“That’s only fair,” he conceded, despite my protest.

The redhead studied me, her lips pursed.

“I always wondered what it was that really drove him. It wasn’t power, and it wasn’t women. It was always you—hidden deep within him. I would never have guessed.”

“Phoenix,” the male royal chided.

She shrugged, glancing up at him. His gaze returned to us.

“We leave at dusk tomorrow.”

Anthony gave him a curt nod, holding my wrist as they exited, their guards trailing behind them.

The room was clearing out. Two henchmen loomed behind us, ushering us out of the hall with less-than-gentle nudges.

We were escorted to a small room nestled deep within the cliffside. The door was locked behind us, supposedly for our own safety, they claimed.

I brushed past Anthony, opening the small balcony door. The cool night air enveloped me as I stepped outside.

“Are you all right?” Anthony inquired.

I could still feel the tremors coursing through me, the image of Alexander’s eyes before he was taken still fresh in my mind.

“We won’t see him for fifty years. They’ve locked him in the dungeon.” My voice wavered, high and shaky. Below, the waves crashed against the cliffs.

“No, but at least he’s alive. That’s more than we were expecting,” Anthony murmured. “Now we wait.”

“You’ll wait for Caroline?”

He didn’t respond immediately; I turned slightly to see him staring past me, at the dark ocean.

“Yeah.” He managed a small smile. “Yeah, I can’t really help myself. I’ll be there the second she’s free.”

I turned back to the water. “When I saw Alex and his sisters, I wanted to rip their heads off.”

“The purebloods have that effect.” His tone was dry, and I could hear him settling on one of the cots. “But I know where they hide their secrets.”

“How many turned vampires do you think the Shahalias have?”

“As slaves? Hundreds. Thousands over the centuries. It wasn’t a crime until recently. The new royals seem keen to know more and willing to hear us out.”

“They were going to kill him.” My voice trembled with barely contained rage. “I thought I’d lost him.”

“But they listened to the voice of an unknown turned vampire,” Anthony replied. “I think I might like them.”

I scoffed.

“Come and get some sleep, Aya,” Anthony suggested after a long silence.

The sound of the waves filled the air.

I had to steady myself, gripping the railing as I stared at the moon and reminded myself that we’d survived—we’d won.

This was what we’d fought for.

Now all I had to do was wait.