“I said no such thing. I said you’re beautiful.” Since he merely caught her chin in a firmer grip, she was helpless when he put his lips on hers. At that first touch, her weak arms sought purchase on his shoulders. He pulled her up to her knees, letting her feel him flush against his body, which was far stronger than she’d teased him about.

“I can smell Evan on you,” she murmured, loving it. Loving them both.

“Aye. I didnae think the scrappy runt had that much strength left in him. We both fell asleep like drunkards afterward.”

She smiled against his mouth, then lost herself in that kiss, weakening in all the right ways, until he eased her back to the covers, touched her well-kissed lips with a thumb. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, now and forever. And ye best not take my earlier words as an empty threat. Get your strength back, muirnín. Because we intend to use ye hard for all you’ve put us through.”

Only time would tell if such desires would be fantasy or reality. He didn’t voice their obvious shared worry, that things might not go their way, but she hoped. For the first time in her life, she prayed for divine influence in her fate, humbly asking for the chance to serve the type of Master she’d always wanted.

Niall carried her to the Council, Evan leading the way. Brian’s wing was on the opposite end of the estate, but Niall had promised they’d let her down right before they reached Council’s chambers. She had to settle for the fact that she was clean and dressed; she’d figure out a way to stand on her own once she was there. During the trip in Niall’s arms, she enjoyed the way her Master looked as well. Evan wore a silver-gray suit that brought out his eyes. He’d chosen an open throat for the dress shirt instead of a tie, but it was a strategic move, giving him the look of a self-assured, confident member of the vampire world, not an overeager petitioner for the Council’s favor.

As always, the clever diplomat. Remembering Niall’s opinion on that, she clung to her hope.

When she’d come before Lady Lyssa last time, she’d been numb, beyond everything. Now she felt everything. The weakness of her body, anxiety, yearning, worry. A tearing love for the males who accompanied her. But she kept her breathing slow and steady, mindful of Debra’s parting warning.

You can’t get overly emotional. Don’t let your heart rate increase, or you will faint. You have zero strength.

Twenty paces before the door to Council chambers, Niall let her legs slide to the ground. As Evan disappeared within to announce their arrival, he kept his arm around her waist.

“I ken you’re very determined to walk these last few steps, but lean on me. Use my strength, lass.”

He shortened his strides, allowing her to proceed at her own pace, but it was quickly clear it was far too slow. After five steps the remaining distance stretched out like a distant lakeshore. Niall lifted her against his hip with a subtle hitch, her feet just barely brushing the floor. He covered all but the last two paces.

“If you have a pack mule, use him, muirnín.” He brushed his lips over her temple, not allowing her to despair. “You’re doin’ fine, lass. Remember, you’re not on trial. You’re the hero here.”

Then Evan opened the tall door from within, leaving no time for a response to the unexpected statement. A chair had been placed in the center of the room, just like for her initial audience with Lady Lyssa. Only now the whole Council was present. But so was Evan. She assumed he would take the chair, with her at his knee. Instead, Niall guided her to it. She pushed at his hands. “Evan . . .”

“Sit,” her Master said quietly, and she did, warring between taking the chair that should belong to a standing vampire, and not wanting to appear as if she were arguing with him before Council. Once she was seated, Niall took a stance on one side of the chair, Evan on the other.

Lady Lyssa studied her from behind the polished table that curved around half of the chamber. It was a lovely dark wood with griffin-style feet and decorative edging that had obviously been custom-made. Alanna liked it much better than the massive one in Berlin. However, when she lifted her gaze, however briefly, the pin of those intense jade eyes made everything else disappear. It was also capable of making Alanna’s heart rate increase, but she breathed through it, remembering Debra’s admonition.

“Our questions will be brief, Alanna. You need to recover your strength to serve a vampire Master again. That is the only priority you have. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lady.” Alanna bowed her head.

“In deliberating your fate, I have a question I want you to answer honestly.”

“I would answer the Council no other way, my lady.”

Jacob was standing behind his lady’s chair, the only servant present other than her and Niall. When Alanna dared a quick glance upward, she noted his expression flicker in approval at her, bolstering her somewhat. She did her best to sit even straighter.

“You are a member of the InhServ corps, your destiny specifically sculpted to support the elite of our ranks. While you may think none of those are interested in you because of your situation, that is not the case.”

Weeks ago, such news would have been welcome. Now her heart plummeted. She gripped the chair arm, tried to stop her head from swimming off her shoulders. But did it matter now if she fainted? Evan’s request would be denied. Giving her to him in lieu of a higher-ranking vampire’s request would be an unforgivable insult.

“That aside, I want you to tell me who you desire to be your Master.”

The question startled her enough she met the queen’s eyes before jerking her head back down. “My apologies, my lady . . . I don’t understand. My preferences are irrelevant. I serve the Council’s desires.”

“That is correct.” The queen’s cool tone suggested she was confirming the obvious. Alanna suppressed the need to squirm. “Your training has been so thorough that, even if you had a preference, you would submit wordlessly to your fate and fully embrace the service of whomever we choose. Isn’t that correct?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Except her voice quavered shamefully. Perhaps she couldn’t quell her emotions the way she normally might because she was in such a weakened state. The idea of leaving Niall and Evan was going to tear her apart right before the Council.

“Look at me.”

Alanna lifted her head, surprised by the unexpected command. The tilted almond shape of the green eyes suggested Lyssa’s Asian blood, her skin as smooth as antique ivory silk. “You promised me honesty, did you not?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“So tell us your heart, child. You’re clutching that chair so hard you’re in danger of splinters.”

She immediately released the wood, mortified by the physical evidence of resistance, but she wasn’t sure how to proceed. She could speak her heart to Evan and Niall in the infirmary, but here, the weight of tradition and ritual, everything being an InhServ meant, was before her. She was lost. Struggling.

Lyssa leaned forward, perhaps no more than an inch, but the motion held Alanna’s attention as effectively as a graceful, deadly spider would hold a butterfly.

“Alanna, whatever decision the Council makes, I am telling you that you may speak your heart honestly here. It does not go against you, nor does it leave these chambers.”

Oh God. She understood then. Lady Lyssa was giving her the opportunity to express her true feelings toward Evan and Niall as a matter of record. Even though politics would require her to be assigned elsewhere, Alanna’s feelings toward them would be documented in perpetuity.

It was an unprecedented honor, one that overwhelmed her. It was a nod to Evan as well, for his service to the Council. But had Lyssa also realized it as a necessity, bringing closure so Alanna could go forward and perform as required? While it shamed her that the queen thought she required that to be an effective InhServ, she wouldn’t reject the gift. She had all she could to do to get past her amazement about the offer in enough time to accept it.

She was swamped with the significance of the next words she would speak. If she did nothing else in her life worth note, this was the task she wanted to look back upon and know she did it well. Straightening, she swept her gaze over all of them in a respectful, peripheral way, so they knew she intended to respond.

Ten vampires. Lady Carola and Lady Helga. Lords Belizar, Walton, Welles and Stewart. Lord Uthe, Evan’s sire, on Lyssa’s right. She’d always found him intimidating, but she was glad he’d saved Evan’s life and would forever have a high regard toward him because of it. Behind him, in the shadows, she saw the Fae liaison was here, Lord Keldwyn. She didn’t know him well, for he came and went like a ghost. Almost as elusive as Lord Daegan, his preferred spot in Council chambers was always in shadows, but usually somewhere between Lady Lyssa and Lord Uthe.

Lord Mason and Lady Daniela sat together at the end as the newest Council members. Though Lord Mason’s age made his stature worthy of a seat closer to the queen, he preferred the end. He stated it was for his long legs, since he was as big as Niall, but she’d seen how he watched the other Council members, particularly Belizar. He was in the best position to anticipate an attack against the queen and thwart it. Lady Daniela had come from Western Australia. Since her betrayal of Stephen, Alanna hadn’t attended Council meetings, but during her recuperation, before she left Berlin to join Evan and Niall, she’d run into Lady Danny’s servant, Devlin, a few times while out in the garden.

The bushman had a casual, easy way about him that she’d found complementary to his Mistress. Lady Daniela wasn’t a diplomat. She was straightforward and unflinching. Alanna suspected the two of them brought an unusual yet effective addition to the Council’s traditional formality. She’d also sensed some of the same type of bond between the two of them as she felt between Jacob and Lyssa. In fact, thinking about it now, Lord Mason, like Lady Lyssa, was quite open about his bond with his servant, Jessica. The queen had capably changed the Council dynamic, such that 30 percent of their number acknowledged their servants’ value in a historically unprecedented way.