Sworn to the Vampire Prince (Vampire Prince Duology Book 2) by Ainsley James

Author:Ainsley James [James, Ainsley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ainsley James Books, LLC
Published: 2026-03-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

La Délégation

TYSON

Tyson swirled his cup, wishing it were Markalish whiskey instead of whatever poor excuse for wine had been poured for him. He didn’t like this place, and not just because he’d been raised to appreciate the finer things in life. He didn’t mind a little dirt on the floor.

Everything about Chastity’s Stronghold screamed death.

The ceilings were too low. Everything carried a musty scent. Including the wine. Not to mention it was underground. And while Tyson was a vampire lord, born into a life where old age wasn’t something he needed to worry about, he had a secret fear of death, a fear his mother had instilled in him long ago.

Another pesky thought flashed across his mind, and he plugged his nose and took a sip of wine. It was easier to act as if nothing bothered him when all the voices in his head were being drowned in alcohol. But the sour wine was the worst thing he’d ever put in his mouth, and he promptly spit it out.

For the first time, he told himself the buzz wasn’t worth it.

Natalia, who was sitting across from him at the rough-hewn table, let out a disgusted snort. “Do you mind?”

“How does anyone drink that?” he wondered aloud.

“It’s the house specialty,” Natalia answered, returning to the journal she always kept with her, scribbling down whatever she thought was important.

He set the tin cup down on the table and pushed it away. “More like the house tragedy.”

She lifted her eyes to his. “It’s a mix of wine and herbs that’s supposed to keep one virile.”

Tyson sputtered out a laugh. “If that’s what I had to rely on for virility, I’d let one of those werewolves throttle me. Gods.”

Natalia studied him for a long moment. She’d already washed the blood from her face and hands, and re-braided her long brown hair. It draped over her clean white shirt and black vest.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Natalia said, reverting to her writing.

Tyson swallowed hard, the taste of the sour wine lingering on his tongue. He’d met his cousin only once before coming to Château Rose. The only thing he’d known about her was the rumors that circled around court.

But Tyson had always thought the world of his Uncle Bastien. The unmarried uncle who refused to obey court politics and scared the piss out of everyone he met. He’d grown up hearing Uncle Marius tell stories of Bastien’s great victories, including his first one. The one that earned a wayward second son from a small coven more votes than any other witch at The Choosing.

Natalia snapped her journal shut and tucked it back inside her vest. “They’re coming.”

Tyson sat up a little straighter in his chair and reluctantly moved his wine cup closer to him.

“Remember what I told you,” Natalia warned. She pointed a finger at his chest. “You might be heir, but I am second in command. I speak for Uncle Bastien when he is away. You will keep your mouth shut.”

The door

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