Gemma Draconica

Chapter 12

ALIXANDER

The royal embassy is quiet, save for the waves on the Pacific Ocean against the cliffs. Morning light spills through the windows.

"There were three more attacks over the weekend," says Leo, his tone clipped. He opens a file and places it on the table between us. "The victims were found last night. Same wounds. Same locations."

My jaw ticks as I flip through the file, scanning the grotesque descriptions of torn flesh and blood loss.

"This pattern—it's too calculated for rogues."

Leo nods, his face impassive but his eyes sharp. "Nothing conclusive yet, but the wounds are vampire. And you can bet the election candidates won't waste time spinning this for their campaigns."

My gaze drifts over the ocean view, calculating the damage this could cause. "These candidates are already feeding the public anti-creature rhetoric. More attacks will make it worse. They'll use this to fan the flames."

Leo leans back, crossing his arms. "Especially the front-runner. She's made it clear where she stands on our kind, and her supporters are... you might say 'enthusiastic' about her stance."

A short, humorless laugh escapes me. "Enthusiastic? You mean they're ready to try to march creatures into camps the minute she gives the word?"

Leo doesn't flinch, though the muscles in his jaw tighten. "Her base is calling for registration. They want a list. Every supernatural being cataloged like some... threat waiting to be neutralized."

My fingers tighten around the edge of the file. "They're asking for war."

"A war in the U.S. would spread to Canada and Mexico, and then it wouldn't be long before the entire Americas are engulfed in the conflict," Leo says. "This could destabilize everything we've worked for."

"Then we need to control the narrative. These rogue attacks—they're a direct threat to us all. If we don't get this under control soon, we'll lose whatever small hold we have on Washington. And this election could tip the scales."

Leo meets my gaze. "Neither the Pentagon nor the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff are stupid enough to try to bring the US military against your army."

His voice lowers. "You've got a lot on your plate, Majeste. You're spread thin. It doesn't help if you're—" he hesitates, choosing his words, "—distracted."

I stiffen, my tone turning icy. "You think I'm distracted?"

Leo holds his ground. "I think your mind is... divided."

He doesn't break his gaze, letting the silence settle between us. His scrutiny is sharp as a blade, but I keep my expression neutral. He can't see how much this gnaws at me—not him, not anyone.

"I'm doing what needs to be done," I say, my voice firm.

He presses on, undeterred. "I'm not questioning your priorities," Leo says, each word measured, "but it's clear since you arrived your focus is... elsewhere. We're on the edge of a precipice, and I need you to be present. We all do."

I close the file and place it back on the table with a slow, measured movement. "Are you finished, Chancellor?"

A muscle jumps in his jaw, but he nods. "I mean no disrespect, Majeste. But between Erika Dimitrov's disappearance and this—" he gestures toward the file, "this isn't another political hurdle. It's a powder keg. And if we don't contain it, it will explode."

For a brief second, I feel the weight of his words pressing against my chest. The thought of an unstoppable blaze that could tear down my reign, leaving nothing but ashes and ruin, flickers in my mind.