"You will stay in the guest wing," he said finally, his voice hoarse, looking at Sandro over my head, not at me. "My warriors will guard her door. No vampire, not even you, King, enters without my permission. If one hair on my daughter's head is harmed, I will rip this palace apart stone by stone and burn it to the ground with everyone inside it, truce or not. Do you understand me, vampire?"
Sandro, who had been silent through all of it, his hand still holding mine, his other hand pressed subtly to his chest where Seraphine's curse had hit, finally spoke. His voice was low, respectful, but absolutely unyielding. King to King.
"Your daughter will be safer in my palace than she has ever been in her own forest, Alpha Magnus. Because in my palace, she is Queen. And anyone who touches my Quee
