3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

A dream, it had to be. Zylah was at the Aquaris Court with Holt, his hands caressing her skin, lips trailing soft kisses down her shoulder, her arm, his fingers entwining with hers.

Wake up.

Her surroundings slowly came into focus as the dream slipped away. Black, empty eyes stared back at her, and Zylah sucked in a breath. Raif sat close enough to touch her, turning something over in his hands. He followed her gaze before handing it over.

Zylah’s heartbeat pounded in her ears, her mouth dry. Holt’s bracelet. The one she’d given him. The one he said he never took off, the soundless silver bell tarnished from where he used to roll it between his fingers so often.

A tear slipped free as his scent hit her. Earthy acani berries and musk clung to the leather, and she inhaled deeply, her throat burning, her chest painfully tight. “Where did you…”

“I thought you might like something of his.”

Zylah nodded, because she refused to break in front of Raif. Instead, she wrapped her mate’s bracelet around her wrist, the one that should have been broken, clutching it to her chest and closing her eyes for just a moment, wishing she was still back in the safety of her dream, that this was all a terrible, terrible mistake.

“How long did he wait?” Raif asked after a heartbeat. “A week? A month? A day?”

Zylah’s eyes shot open. “That he waited at all makes him twice the male you’ll ever be,” she spat.

Her hatred was like burning coals in her stomach, and Zylah pushed herself up slowly to give the fire lighting inside her space to breathe. Every bit of grief, sadness, and pain that had settled within her, she threw into that fire. Let it burn brighter. Raif. Aurelia. Ranon. She didn’t know how yet, but they would all pay. She’d have had Holt kill Marcus over and over for what that bastard had done to him.

Zylah intended to tell Raif as much, but blinding pain had her clutching her chest, her breaths short and shallow. “What did you do to me?” she asked as he reached for her, but she recoiled from his touch.

Those soulless eyes stared back at her with something she might have once called concern. But not from Raif, not anymore. “The blood,” he said, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt. “It healed you.”

“Your blood?” Zylah was going to be sick, and she pressed her eyes shut. That he would do something so disgusting, that any part of him was inside her… it was a violation. Her hands shook, something surging inside her again, but gentle, like a caress. So sudden, then it was gone.

Zylah’s brow pinched together, another short breath passing between her lips, a hand pressing to her heart. She met Raif’s eyes again. “Bring me his body. You owe me that.”

“I can’t.”

She studied him. The way he’d cut his hair short. The way he seemed to be both bigger and smaller all at once now that he was a monster. He had no weapons she could see. His black shirt was tucked into fitted black trousers, dark brown boots laced at his ankles. He sat the same as he always had, but different. Lighter, somehow, like he might spring up and attack at any moment. Which, Zylah supposed, he probably would. Raif cocked his head to one side, a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth, and Zylah looked away before he got the wrong idea.

All her wounds were closed, her eyes no longer swollen. It wasn’t just her wrist, or the injuries that Aurelia had given her—whatever ailment had been weakening her before seemed to be almost gone. He’d healed her for the most part, but not entirely, though she couldn’t let the vampire see that. Not yet. She sank back into her sheets, feigning weakness, the exhaustion he’d have come to expect from her. “How did you know your blood would heal me?” Zylah wasn’t certain she wanted to know the answer.

“I met another.” Raif swallowed, the sound audible in the small space. “Like me.”

“Another vampire?”

He almost looked embarrassed. “Two days ago. She told me it would work. If I’d known, I would have done it weeks ago. You… you almost died when I first brought you here.” He dragged a hand through his hair again, his eyes passing over her prone form.

“Don’t act like you care, Raif. It’s too late for that.” He didn’t get to have her thanks. Her pity. He’d chosen. Over and over, he’d chosen this. Zylah wondered if Rose knew. If his sister had seen any of this. How disappointed she’d be if she truly knew the truth. But then again, she’d known Zylah and Holt were mates and had said nothing, or so Raif had said. And the vampire showed no sign of remorse for any of it. For Holt. For keeping her there, in this maze, as he’d called it.

“Why did you do it?” Zylah asked when Raif didn’t reply. Kopi hadn’t returned since her altercation with Aurelia, and Zylah told herself he was fine. That he’d made it out of the maze alive. She couldn’t let herself worry, so she would focus on this instead. On her anger. On how she was going to escape. On how she was going to gut Raif before he could kill her first.

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

He looked at her with that casual indifference he had always been so well practised at. Watching him was the last thing she wanted to do, but she couldn’t risk taking her eyes off him for too long. “Because I was tired of playing second best.”

Zylah scoffed. “You were jealous?” Holt had said Raif had been competitive, but this , despite the fact that he sat before her undoubtedly a monster, despite the things he’d said since he’d become this… this creature, he hadn’t always been this way.

“More like I grew tired of living in Holt’s shadow.”

“And now the longest shadows are cast by your grandfather and mother.” To what end, though, Zylah didn’t know. Not yet, but she was going to find out. “So again I ask: why did you do it?”

Not even a sliver of regret, of shame flickered across his features; his face remained utterly neutral. Zylah wished she could rake claws down it just to get a reaction from him.

“War is coming, Zylah,” Raif finally said. “It’s time to pick a side. My family will spare any who are loyal to them.”

“So they can beat me over and over? So you can use me as your personal plaything? I’d rather be dead.”

“Don’t say that.”

The mask of indifference fell away for a second, so briefly Zylah might have missed it. He’d said another vampire told him his blood could heal… how would they have known, if not from experience? But then Zylah remembered why she was there. How she’d been gifted to him by his mother like prize cattle. “It’s easier for me to believe she’s compelled you.”

“She hasn’t.”

And Zylah could see that. In everything he said and didn’t say, it was clear that he was there because he chose to be. That he was keeping her there because he chose to. And given everything that had happened, everything with Jesper, everything since fleeing the gallows, that made Raif the biggest monster of all.

But Zylah was no stranger to monsters; she’d been one to herself for the longest time. Things were different now.

She felt stronger than she had since Aurelia had first taken her, however many weeks it had been. Perhaps even strong enough to leave if she could only escape Raif’s vigil. Zylah pulled on her magic again, tried to evanesce, but nothing happened. She didn’t dare move too much, too quickly, for fear he’d notice, trying to make her movements seem slow and sluggish.

Raif made for the door, having made no attempt to defend his actions or his intentions. “I need to go smooth things over with my mother,” was all he offered.

Zylah just watched him, willing her heartbeat to remain steady. She had to be sure he was truly gone before she attempted her escape, and she had no idea how strong his senses were now.

He hesitated in the open doorway when she didn’t reply. “Kopi left?”

“He wasn’t mine to keep.”

But Holt had been hers. A memory struck her, so sharp she sucked in a breath. “ I know Pallia told you few things in this life belong to us. But I am yours. And you are mine. And nothing, no one will ever convince me otherwise.” Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t brush them away.

“I won’t leave you alone here for long,” Raif said, pulling her from her thoughts.

Zylah had been afraid he might say that.