Sixteen

Sixteen

The next day, I was surprised to receive a letter from Nadia.

“When did this arrive?” I asked Vesna, who was alone while Violeta worked in the kitchens to help with preparations for the Burning Rites feast.

Vesna had come to help me prepare for tonight’s hunt, an event Adrian did not yet know I would be attending. My outfit was far more comfortable than anything I’d worn since my arrival in Revekka—a black tunic and leggings which I tucked into knee-high boots of the same color. Over the outfit, I wore a snug jacket that was cut short in the front and longer in the back.

“Just this morning, my queen,” she said. “Sorin brought it.”

Sorin? Was he traveling to and from Lara while searching for Ravena? I had no idea.

“Would you like some privacy? While you read?”

I smiled at her. “Please, Vesna. Thank you.”

I was not sure how I’d respond as I began the letter. I feared my own emotions at this point. My heart and chest already felt as though they were being crushed by the absence of my father and of Nadia. I wasn’t sure what would happen once I saw her handwriting or read her words. There was also a part of me that felt dread—would she blame me for the coup? Would she continue to inquire as to why Adrian was not yet dead?

When Vesna left, I tore open the envelope and unfolded the heavy parchment to find Nadia’s familiar handwriting.

Issi, she’d written, and I pressed my hand to my mouth to keep from sobbing. No one had called me Issi since I’d left Lara.

I must admit my surprise when one of the Blood King’s soldiers agreed to carry my letter to you. I suppose I should wait until I receive confirmation you have received it to be impressed. Nevertheless, I miss you. Your father misses you. I have never seen him so forlorn. It makes me ever eager for your return. Commander Killian told us of your attack, and I would not have believed it had we not had our own uprising, but, Issi, my dear, it is not as if the whole of Lara feels betrayed. There are many of us who trust your plan and know you have not forgotten your cause. Think often of us, especially your father. He is lost without you.

I know you are curious, so I will add only that I have read four books since your departure, and while every page was a delight, they are nothing compared to having you home.

I miss you.

Nadia

I read through the letter twice more as a torrent of emotion tore through me. I was caught between a deep sense of guilt and a strange pain borne of my father’s sadness. I had not completely abandoned my mission. I was still trying to discover Adrian’s past, hoping it would lead to some great revelation, but this was the first time I let myself acknowledge it wasn’t with the intention of defeat. I wanted to know him, which seemed even more ridiculous given what Gesalac had suggested last night. What if Adrian really was only trying to win my loyalty by manipulating the crimson mist? Hadn’t he told me more than once that he was a monster?

The worst part about it all was that it had almost worked. I had begun to let his kindness and the things I’d learned about High Coven and Dragos overshadow the reality at hand—Adrian was still the conqueror of my people.

I stowed the letter, hiding it beneath the book I’d taken from the library last night. Then I shrugged on my cloak and pulled on my riding gloves.

Tonight, I would hunt.

I left my room and found Adrian and his council of noblesse assembled in the courtyard, scattered around the blazing pyre. I kept my distance, halting at the end of the steps, though I could still feel the heat of the fire on my face. It wasn’t until the noblesse began to bow that Adrian turned, eyes sparking at the sight of me.

“My queen,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“Joining the hunt,” I said.

Behind them, a few of the noblesse laughed.

“Is something funny?” I asked.

Their humor abruptly ended.

“It will be a long night,” Adrian said.

“I’ve had many of those.”

His lips twitched, and he handed me Shadow’s reins. “Mount up, my queen.”

Once I was seated, Adrian followed, and his body pressed heavily into mine. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or if it was because his presence had more force since I’d been distant from him for the last three days. I let out a slow breath to release the tightness in my stomach.

It didn’t work.

“Comfortable?” he asked, mouth near my ear.

I turned toward him, a heady flush rushing from my head and into my throat.

“Not a word I would choose,” I said.

“Hmm.” I felt him hum against my back, and in the next second, he signaled Shadow forward, and we departed through the gates of the Red Palace, into the village of Cel Ceredi, followed by Daroc and the noblesse.

The night was fading, and as we descended, fires raged in the village. Some were from the pyres, but there were others, smaller ones dotting the landscape. As we drew closer, I realized they were villagers holding torches.

“Will they join the hunt?” I asked, recalling how Adrian had instructed the noblesse to light fires around their villages to keep the mist at bay.

“They will watch from the gate,” he said.

As we passed them, they joined the crowd, and as we came to the edge of Cel Ceredi, the gates groaned open, parting to reveal a wall of dark woods. As we approached, Adrian drew his arm tightly around my waist, and I realized I’d unconsciously leaned into him.

“It is unlike you to be afraid,” he said.

“I am not afraid,” I said.

“Am I to assume, then, that you find comfort in my arms?”

There was a note of amusement in his voice. I thought about grinding my ass into his raging erection to prove a point. This wasn’t about comfort; it was about the fact that we had not fucked in three days, and I was angry and needy, and I wanted to take my rage out on his body the way we had on our way to Cel Ceredi.

That was where I wanted to be, unwavering in my hatred for my enemy, not here in this space where I hoped he was…sincere.

“What are we hunting?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Now that you’re here, the question is what will hunt us?”

Right. I was the one with blood worth draining and flesh worth eating.

Adrian guided us into the woods. There was little light, only a muted, haunting red that made the sky look like a storm. Still, Shadow and Adrian navigated well enough. Behind us, the noblesse fanned out, taking their own paths through the woods.

“Sorin says he is hunting for Ravena,” I said. “Did you give those orders after Sadovea too?”

“Did you come on this trip to fight with me or to hunt?” he asked.

“Why not both?”

“One or the other, Isolde, but if you choose to fight, I will take you back to the palace. I will not be distracted out here where you are most at risk.”

“Fine,” I said, feeling a little silly. “No fighting then.”

There was a stretch of silence.

“Sorin has been on Ravena’s trail for a while, long before the attacks in Vaida and Sadovea.”

“Oh.”

Once again, I felt silly, and I wanted to deflect, to find a reason to be justified in my anger despite what Adrian had said about fighting. But then his hand hooked around my head and his lips crashed down upon mine. I groaned at the hunger with which he devoured my mouth, met each thrust of his tongue just as hungrily.

Yes, I thought. This. This is what I want. What I need.

I hated needing anything, but this, I could not deny, and I wouldn’t have stopped if it wasn’t for a high-pitched screech that made my blood run cold.

“What was that?” I asked, pulling away from Adrian’s mouth. My lips felt raw from his kiss.

Adrian chuckled. “Just an owl.”

“We need to leave.”

Owls were an omen of death.

It was one of few beliefs my father had carried with him from my mother’s culture because he had seen it—carriages overturned or attacked, squadrons wiped out, all moments after an owl crossed their path.

The hysteria in my voice must have convinced him, because his body went rigid against mine. “Okay.”

But as the word left his mouth, Shadow began to neigh and shiver. Adrian held tight on the reins just as a creature came out of the tree line. It was tall and thin with nails that were long and sharp, covered in blood. Its hair was wet and stringy, shielding a face of overly expressive features, including a wide mouth full of sharp teeth.

It was an alp, no doubt drawn to us because of Shadow, who sensed the danger.

“Isolde,” Adrian said. “Take the reins and go back to the castle.”

I did as he instructed, and he slid off Shadow’s back, landing soundlessly on the ground. Adrian took a few steps toward the monster, but the creature did not take its eyes off me.

“This will not end well for you,” Adrian said, drawing his blade.

The alp hissed, wiggling its sharp claws, and without so much as a warning, it launched itself at me.

Shadow bucked, neighing wildly before darting into the darkness of the trees, his fear keeping him moving forward. All the while, branches whipped my face, arms, and legs. I pressed my thighs into his side and pulled the reins, but nothing seemed to slow him down, so I dropped one rein and gripped the other in my hands, pulling it toward my hip. Just as Shadow started to slow, he bucked, and as I hit the ground, he darted away. The impact of my fall stole my breath, and I lay there for a moment, fighting dizziness and a sudden pain in my ribs, until I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

I rolled and looked up into the face of the ginger-haired woman whom I’d seen in the reflection of the window and the hall of mirrors.

“It’s you,” I said, choking on a painful breath as I rose to my feet. “You’re Ravena, aren’t you?”

I kept one hand around my waist, but I was already thinking of how I might bring her down. I only had my knives, which meant I’d need to get close to her—too close.

“Clever little bird,” she said. “Though you always were.”

My brows furrowed, confused by her words.

Her eyes narrowed, and it made her look critical and cold.

“So it hasn’t happened yet.”

She spoke more to herself than me. Still, I could not help asking, “What are you talking about?”

“Adrian,” she said. “He has yet to partake of your blood.”

I did not answer her, though I wondered what that had to do with her. But it wasn’t a question I was willing to ask her. She was a different kind of enemy, and I felt like any information she might glean from me would lead to devastation.

Then she laughed.

“It is good that you have not changed much,” she said. “Same stubborn countenance, same obvious weaknesses.”

“What do you know about my weaknesses?” I asked, and as she answered, I worked to free one of the blades at my wrist. I’d prefer to attack her from a distance, uncertain of what kind of harm she might inflict once she had her hands on me.

“I know a lot about you, Issi,” she said, and I flinched at her words. “Tell me how conflicted you are between the love you have for your father and the love you have for Adrian.”

Once again, I did not speak, and as the knife came free into my palm, it bit into my skin.

Fuck.

I flinched, and Ravena’s eyes shifted to my hand. A cruel smile spread across her face.

“Oh good,” she said. “You are armed. You’ll need it.”

I reared back and threw my blade. It cut through the air toward her, but just as it was about to hit its mark—the very center of her chest—she vanished, and in her place was a familiar face, a noblesse.

“Ciro,” I breathed his name in shock as the knife lodged in his chest. Where had he come from? I thought he was still in Zenovia, but I soon noticed something was wrong. The noblesse was disheveled and dirty, and his mouth, chin, and the front of his robes were covered in thick, crimson blood. He had been feeding.

“Ciro,” I said his name again as he stared, motionless, at the blade jutting from his chest.

My voice drew his gaze, and I wished I’d stayed silent.

As soon as his eyes met mine, I knew I was in trouble. He squatted on the ground and then lunged.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He had been possessed by the mist. I was certain of it.

I managed to dodge his attack, only to feel his clawed hands grip the back of my neck as he twisted to reach for me, and his touched burned. There was nothing I could do against his sheer strength. He lifted me up and tossed me. I landed on the ground, my back cracking against a tree.

I groaned, already feeling tears stain my cheeks. I’d never felt such pain, and yet I moved. I had no choice. I rolled onto my hands and knees, and as I got to my feet, Ciro gripped my throat, lifting me off the ground. Though his touch was like fire and my vision blurred, I still managed to shove my remaining blade into his neck. I tried to cut through the bone and sever his head, but he released me too soon, and I fell to the ground once more, choking and gagging.

I drew in ragged breaths and stood once more, shaking. I watched as Ciro now pulled the blade from his chest. I guess I’d taught whatever possessed him how to use a weapon, and as his dead eyes met mine, he lifted the knife, but before he could strike a fatal blow, something swooped down between us—a bird that transformed into a person.

“Sorin,” I breathed as the vampire manifested, his back to me. All I saw were his powerful muscles working as he swung his blade and beheaded the noblesse who had nearly killed me. As Ciro’s body fell to the ground, my legs gave out.

“No, you don’t,” Sorin said, catching me before I hit.

I stared up at his face, but the dizziness forced me to close my eyes.

I groaned.

“Please don’t tell me you can transform into an owl,” I said.

I heard him laugh, but it was a distant sound, as if he were in a cavern.

“Not an owl, my queen,” he answered quietly. “A falcon.”

I remembered nothing more after that.

* * *

I woke with my swollen face pressed into the cold, stone floor of a cell.

It took me several moments to gather the strength to lift myself into a sitting position, and even as I did, the ache in my jaw made me light-headed. I wanted to vomit but held it in; opening my mouth would just make everything worse.

I squinted into the darkness and made out the faint, crumpled outline of Adrian.

“No,” I whispered.

He lay on his stomach, hands bound behind his back. He was just out of reach within a cell beside my own. I crawled to him, body shaking, having no energy to expend for breath, much less movement. Still, I managed to reach the bars and used them to pull myself closer, slipping my hand between them. I brushed my fingers over a lock of his hair.

“Adrian.” I whispered his name, broken and full of the blood pooling in my mouth.

He did not wake for a long time, but I sat there and stroked the piece of hair I could reach, and when he finally stirred, I began to cry.

I tried to say his name again, but he stopped me.

“Shh,” he soothed. “I know, my sweet. You cannot help who you are, and I cannot help who I love.”

I jerked awake, inhaling a sharp breath as if I’d just come up for air. My skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, making my shift stick to me. I threw off my blankets and then fell back into my pillow.

“I’m safe,” I told myself. “It was a dream. Just a dream.”

But it had felt so real—the cold, rough stone against my skin, the pain and the thick blood in my mouth, the feel of Adrian’s hair against my bruised fingers.

Even now I could feel the claws of guilt twisting in my chest, because though I did not know how, Adrian had been in that cell because of me.

Now that I was awake, I realized I was also alone.

I sat up again, placing my feet on the floor, taking inventory of my body. I thought I’d bruised my ribs when I’d fallen off Shadow, but I was certain they’d broken when Ciro had thrown me against that tree. Now I felt little pain, just an ache. I touched my neck where the noblesse had gripped me and swallowed without discomfort.

I’d been healed.

I wondered if it had been Adrian’s doing, since Ana used traditional healing methods. And if so, where was he now? What about Ana? I’d at least expected to wake up and find her sitting with me, but perhaps Isla had returned. Had Shadow been found after he’d darted away into the woods?

I had so many questions.

I rose to my feet and pulled on my robe. I tried to force away the hurt I felt at waking alone, at discovering that Sorin was a shape-shifter. Did Adrian not care for me? Did Sorin not trust me? I paced my room, reasoning that it was ridiculous to feel this way. Adrian had not waited for me to wake up because I was fine, and Sorin had no reason to trust me because I did not trust him…did I?

I growled in frustration just as a knock erupted at the door, sending my heart into a frenzy.

Adrian,I thought and raced to the door, only to find Lothian on the other side.

“Are you well, my queen?” he asked, and I knew he’d witnessed Sorin bringing me here.

“I am…as well as can be expected,” I answered. “What can I do for you?”

“I have news about your mother’s homeland,” he said. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” I stepped aside and closed the door quietly behind him. Lothian crossed to the middle of the room, turning to look at me.

“I fear I do not have good news.”

Just tell me, I wanted to yell as a chasm opened in my chest, far larger than the one made by Adrian’s absence.

“Go on,” I implored.

“I could not locate any texts on your mother’s people, mostly because their history is told orally. I thought to reach out to some of the elders there, but—”

“Lothian,” I said. “Get to the point.”

“They’re enslaved. All of them,” he said. “By King Gheroghe of Vela.”