Let's take a sneak peak at what you'll find in book two about Dimitri.
WHO IS DIMITRI?
Dimitri of Valehadden is the epitome of calm, cool and collected. Until he's not. When this vampire's hair trigger snaps, watch out. He is old, powerful and capable of inflicting some serious damage. Fast, strong and silent, you only see Dimitri coming if he wants you too. If you cross him, watch your back. Dimitri never forgets.
Strengths: Speed, strength, cunning.
Weakness: Without access to blood he will quickly become as weak as a regular man.
Dimitri held up a hand. “Perhaps some time in the dungeons would teach Rune patience and the importance of protocol.”
“What? No! We can’t just leave him there. Grey’s in trouble.”
“It seems to me that one or the other of you has done nothing but get in trouble from the moment you stepped through the gate.” Dimitri gave an almost imperceptible cock of an eyebrow. “If there were something I could do, I would, but . . .”
Despite the subtlety of the gesture, Rune got the message. Would you like to use your favor?
That favor was for Ryker, not Grey. But Grey . . . Her mouth froze partly open, and her gut filled with the thick sludge of indecisiveness. A pick-who-dies kind of indecisiveness in a twisted game of Russian roulette.
At her lack of obvious consent, Dimitri motioned with two fingers. The muscled guard grabbed Rune’s arm and wrenched it painfully behind her back. She cried out as the joints in her elbow and shoulder twisted.
“Do not fight,” Dimitri added coolly. “Faxon has been known to accidentally break bones.”
The guard leaned over the top of her head to smile down. The grin was maniacal. He dragged her backward. She struggled to keep her feet beneath herself, barely holding on to each step with the back of her heel.
Adrenaline flooded Rune’s system, and the details of the room itself melted into a kaleidoscope of nondescript colors and images. Time slowed, and the expressions of the council jumped to the surface, filling her vision. Ambrose smirked, her eyes full of amusement. Silen’s nostrils still flared in irritation, and the light behind his red hair made him look like a haloed angel of hell. Shax breathed in slowly and bit the edge of his lip in delight. Dimitri’s expressions were subtle as usual, but one was clear, and it infuriated her the most. Dimitri was immensely amused at her choice . . . or lack thereof.
She passed through the doors, and a whoosh roared through her ears as time returned to normal. She yelled and tried to twist away. The guard put more pressure on her wrist, and hot pain shot from her fingers to the opposite shoulder. Her eyes watered, and she clamped her mouth shut. She would not give him the satisfaction of screaming.
Faxon dragged her past Verida and Tate. Neither made a move to save her. She almost cried out for their help but stopped. Their expressions said that if Mr. Friendly here didn’t break her arm, they would do it for him.