I left the end pointed at his throat a second longer before sheathing the weapon and turning my attention to Sorin and Dracul.

“You have news?” I asked.

Sorin’s eyes were locked with Daroc’s but soon shifted to mine, and while there was tension there, I could not tell what the tracker was thinking.

“We have tracked Julian east, beyond the borders of Revekka,” Dracul said when Sorin did not speak.

I ground my teeth at the knowledge, despite expecting this. Vela lay east, and King Gheroghe had recently petitioned me, hoping to become immortal in exchange for his surrender. In doing so, the human king had offered the perfect refuge to the traitor noblesse. He was also stupid enough to accept if Julian suggested turning him—stupid not only because I would kill him when I found him, but also because he trusted Julian, a vampire who wanted power and would use Gheroghe’s kingdom to rise against me.

Likely, Gheroghe would not survive the bloodletting.

“We could not track Gesalac beyond your realm.”

Which meant he had likely taken refuge in a village, but where? More importantly, who was protecting him? One misguided Revekkian? Or a whole town?

“Dracul, take your men. Hunt for Julian. You are to kill anyone he turns.”

The noblesse bowed in acceptance of his charge.

“And Julian? How do you wish for this traitor to be returned to you?”

I considered his question, though I knew the answer. I wanted him alive. I wanted him to die by my hand, but that did not mean he should not suffer until his fate.

“Flayed,” I replied.

None in my company balked at the request, but I wondered what Isolde would have said had she heard my command. She knew my reputation and was not averse to violence, unflinching as she watched the impalement of our prisoners. But was there a limit to her ruthlessness?

“As you command, my king,” Dracul said, and in a blur of black wings, he was gone. A few others from our company followed, transforming into similar animals—bats, crows, even owls, whose presence had taken on a different meaning since Isolde’s attack in the woods during the Great Hunt.

Owls are an omen of death, she’d said, and death had followed those words.

Still, I let them go despite the dread.

I turned my attention to Sorin. “You saw no trace of Gesalac?”

“None, my king,” he replied.

“Then we will search the whole of Revekka until he is found,” I said and paused, gaze sliding over each expressionless face of my remaining noblesse. “And when we find him, none who have harbored him will be spared.”