Twenty

Twenty

I woke up with a start to find that I was in Adrian’s room. I was dressed only in my shift, the smell of smoke clung to my hair, and my throat was sore. I touched my neck, wincing as I swallowed. As I rose into a sitting position, I found Adrian standing a few feet away, staring out his dark windows.

He did not seem to know that I had awakened, and I was too caught up in my emotions to attempt to bury them now. I’d been inside Yesenia’s head. I’d watched the people she loved die. I’d watched Adrian beg for her life at my feet. I’d heard him scream for her. I’d seen his horror and his pain.

“I know about Yesenia,” I said.

Adrian turned toward me. He was still dressed as if he had come from the celebration in the great hall, but he had discarded his overcoat.

“Everything you do, you do for her.”

He said nothing.

“What I don’t understand is, why me? Why make me your queen?”

“Isolde—” Adrian said my name like he was desperate for me to understand, but there was no explaining this.

I pushed the blankets off and stood from his bed. “You took me from my home to fill a place beside you that I could never fill in your heart.”

“Isolde—”

Again he said my name but firmer.

I pushed on. “I did not want to love, because it has only ever meant loss, but I let myself do it anyway!” I screamed, and it hurt so bad, I flinched. Everything hurt.

“Are you finished?” Adrian asked, a tinge of annoyance in his tone.

“I hate you,” I said through my teeth. It didn’t matter that I had just admitted to loving him.

He took a step toward me and then another. “You hate me because you love me,” he said, and it felt like a taunt as the corners of his lips lifted.

The only thing I knew to do was fight. So I launched myself at him, but his legs tangled with mine, and I ended up on the floor with Adrian on top of me.

“Don’t you dare laugh!” I struggled against him.

“I would never laugh at you,” he said.

“You are! You did!” This time, I could not keep the hurt from my voice. Everything just kept getting worse. “I wish I had never met you.”

“Isolde,” Adrian said, and there was something in his voice that made me go completely still. He called my name, and it called to my soul. His eyes held mine as he brushed stray pieces of my hair from my face. “You have a place beside me because you fill my heart. I love you. I have loved you since the beginning,” he said, and his voice almost broke. “I have loved you forever.”

His words hurt in a way I’d never imagined. This was a good kind of pain, an agony I’d die for. “If you have loved me for so long, why didn’t you to tell me?”

“You would have laughed at me,” he said. “But it is also the nature of my curse.”

“I thought you weren’t cursed.”

“I am not cursed to be a vampire,” Adrian said. “But I am cursed in other ways, and you are one.”

I shook my head. “And Yesenia?”

“Isolde, it isn’t what you think. I don’t know how to tell you—”

I pressed my fingers to his lips and stared at him. I wanted to know, but not right now. Not after what he’d said, what I’d said. I needed more than words.

“Make love to me first.”

Adrian captured my face between his hands, eyes searching mine before our mouths sealed together. As he did, his fingers threaded into my hair. His body moved against mine. Our hands searched for ties and clasps, eager to feel skin against skin, and when we were bare, Adrian knelt between my thighs. One hand dipped behind my knee, guiding it over his shoulder, and he parted my flesh with his fingers while his mouth closed over my clit. I let out a breath that sounded more like a sigh and twisted my fingers into his long, silken hair.

As he thrust and teased, a harder sound escaped my mouth, my fingers digging into his scalp. He looked up at me from his place between my legs, his eyes glinting, full of a furious desire to pleasure and please. And he did, sending coils of electricity throughout my body until my stomach was wound so tight, I began chanting his name and moving with him.

“Please,” I breathed. “Adrian.”

He rose up my body and kissed me, slow and languid.

“Hold on,” he said, and I wrapped my arms and legs tight around his body as he carried me to the bed. The blankets cradled me, and Adrian covered me. His body felt so warm and solid and right. His lips left mine to trail along my jaw and collarbone before he lifted himself to meet my gaze.

“I do not pray,” he said. “But I begged for you.”

Then he bent and kissed the place between my breasts before rising fully and pressing inside until he had filled me, whole and deep, and paused. We took a breath and stared at each other, and after a moment, Adrian began to move—slow, lush thrusts that ensured I felt every part of him.

Perspiration built on our skin, and I held his forearms, nails digging into his hard muscle as sounds and words escaped my mouth—an erotic song he encouraged me to sing. It was in this moment that I understood I truly loved him. He had made me come alive in a way no one else had from the moment I laid eyes on him in Lara, and I’d spent every day since fighting it—but no more. Suddenly, I wondered what it would be like to surrender to him, to offer my whole being.

Would he offer the same to me?

“Adrian, wait,” I said, and he froze above me, concern etched across his glistening face.

“Are you all right?” he asked, breathless.

I smiled and trailed my fingers along his cheekbone. “Take from me.”

I did not think it was possible for him to become any more still.

“Are you certain, Isolde?”

I nodded, and my eyes blurred with tears. “I am certain,” I said, feeling the truth of it in my chest. “I want every part of you. I want to invade your body. I want to be so heavy in your blood, you taste me when you bleed.”

Adrian shook his head a little, and then he slid from my body and sat up.

“Where are you going?” I demanded, rising with him.

“There is something you must understand about your bloodletting,” he said. “Before you agree.”

I waited, staring up at him.

“I told you that I begged for you?” he said.

I nodded.

“And you are here now because of those pleas.”

My brows furrowed, but I nodded anyway. He was acting as if I was a gift from the goddesses.

“Partaking of your blood means I…become vulnerable. Worse, it will make you a target.”

“I am already a target,” I said. I had been since I’d agreed to marry him. “But what do you mean…vulnerable?”

“By doing this, you become my one true weakness. If you die, I die.”

“No,” I said immediately. I needed him to be invincible. I needed him to be immortal. I swore I would never love if I had to lose. “Then we can’t. I won’t.”

“Isolde,” he said, and that gentleness returned to his expression. “I would never let anything happen to you, but I will also not exist without you again. More than that, though, I am willing to risk my life to be bonded to you the way I have always desired. I have waited centuries for this. For you.”

My heart felt like it would explode.

“Does anyone know? About the curse?”

“Only those who were there when it was made,” he said. “Ana, Daroc, Sorin, and Tanaka.”

They were closest to him, more trusted than anyone else in Adrian’s circle. I felt safe in the knowledge that no one knew beyond those four, and in the end, no one had to know of our bloodletting. There would be no evidence, no wound and no scarring, because Adrian could heal it.

I rose to my knees and twined my arms around his neck.

“Well then, you’ll just have to do a very good job of protecting me.”

I kissed him, and Adrian gathered me into his arms, guiding my legs on either side of his as he sat on the edge of the bed. He held my waist and slid into me, his mouth leaving mine to graze along my neck and shoulder. I clung to him and shuddered, letting him lead, and when his fangs elongated and pierced my skin, I gave a guttural cry. There was a second of pain before the pleasure of his mouth and his cock won over. They seemed to work in tandem, filling me with an ecstasy that took me under.

And then my mind was flooded with memories of Adrian.

Memories that had felt like dreams.

I met him beneath jasmine and kissed him under stars, and we made love in the dark, and that love ended in fire and damned the world.

I knew then who I truly was.

Who I had always been.

Yesenia of Aroth.

I was Yesenia of Aroth—not now, not in this body, but I had been her in another life, in Adrian’s life.

The tears came when Adrian released me.

“Isolde.” He cupped my face and kissed my mouth and my cheeks. “Tell me.”

“I know,” I whispered, and my body shook with sobs.

I couldn’t explain it completely. I did not have all the memories or moments, but the knowledge of who I had been and who I was now existed simultaneously in my mind. And Adrian—he had brought me back. When my mind had not remembered him, my body had.

“I know you,” I said and collapsed against him.

* * *

I lay draped over Adrian’s body, his fingers moving lightly over my skin as I wrestled with my strange thoughts, dividing them into past and present.

“But how did you get here? How did you become a…”

“Monster?”

I smiled a little. “A vampire.”

“I made a trade,” he said. “I begged the goddess Dis to let me live and seek revenge against everyone responsible for your death, and she granted my wish.”

I had a few memories of High Coven worshipping Dis as their creator.

“At the expense of desiring blood?”

“It is what I asked for—let me taste the blood of my enemies.” I heard him chuckle quietly. “Be careful of your words in deals with the divine.”

“You never speak of the goddesses,” I observed.

“Just because I was created by one does not mean I serve them. Gods become more human the closer you are to them,” Adrian said.

I sensed there was more he could say, but he didn’t, so I asked, “Do you hate her? For what she made you?”

“No. I quite like what I am,” he said.

We were quiet for a few moments, and then he spoke. “I spent a long time searching for you. When I saw you in the woods, it took everything in my power not to bite you then.”

“Why didn’t you?”

It seemed like the easiest thing. He would have avoided all my hate, all my anger and resentment.

“I would have, but Dis is a cruel goddess to bargain with. You had to choose me, love me.” He paused. “I do not think she believed you ever would.”

There was something ominous about how he spoke. I halted my exploration of his skin and met his gaze.

“Is she why you began your conquest of the Nine Houses?” I asked. “Do you conquer for Dis?”

“I conquer for myself,” he said. “And Dis can do nothing without me, because I am her weapon.”

“But you do not wish to be her weapon,” I said.

Adrian did not speak.

I rose, straddling him, his hands grasping my thighs. “If these divine beings are so powerful, why do they not come to earth and vanquish their enemies? Why do they play with mortals and monsters?”

“They have no power on earth, save what they can do through us,” Adrian said, his hands drifting to my waist.

“Can a goddess be killed?” I whispered.

“That is blasphemy,” he said, though his eyes flashed at the prospect.

“Are you pretending to be pious?” I teased, just as he once had.

I bent and kissed him, then took him inside me again.

* * *

It was late in the morning when I returned to my chamber to wait for Violeta and Vesna’s arrival. I needed to bathe and dress, and I would like to spend some time with my father before the coronation began. I was still not pleased with him, but he would only be here for a short while before returning to Lara, and I did not want to regret this time.

I came around a bend in the hallway and halted, finding Killian outside my door.

“Killian, what are you doing?”

“I came to see if you were all right after last night,” he said. “But it seems you are just fine. Did you seek comfort in your husband’s arms?”

I stiffened at his comment. “That is none of your business.”

“Of course not, Your Majesty.” His tone was biting, and I flexed my fingers into a fist. One day, he would feel the sting of my blade, I was certain of it.

“You should leave,” I said, moving past him, but as my hand touched the handle, he spoke.

“You once hated them as much as I did. What changed?”

“I learned the truth,” I said.

“You have been brainwashed.”

His words made me pause, and I turned to him fully, taking one step closer.

“That has always been your issue, Killian. You think I do not know my own mind. Mark my words, it will cost you dearly one day.”

I took a step back, and then I entered my room, locking the door behind me.

Violeta and Vesna arrived only a short time later, and we began preparations for the coronation. I started with a bath, and as the jasmine dropped into my water, memories of the nights I’d spent with Adrian in the pool rose to the surface of my mind. I thought of Ana then. Of my first day in the castle when Violeta had dropped the oil into my water.

Lady Ana Maria said it would relax you.

But it had not been for relaxing at all. She had used it to trigger my memories.

Ana, my best friend, I thought. There were no memories yet, just the knowledge of how close we had been.

An hour later, I was ready. Vesna had pinned half my hair up and let the rest fall in shining waves over my shoulders. After, Violeta helped me into my dress, which was designed by Adrian. It was black, fitted from the bodice to my hips, where it flared into a full skirt. Appliqués in a darker shade of black curled like shadow in strategic places, around my breasts, my hips, and the hem. The neckline was cut low and a collar necklace only drew more attention. A simple pair of earrings glittered in the darkness of my hair like stars in the inky sky, and as I stared at myself in the mirror, I felt awake for the first time.

I was ready to be queen.

I was ready to conquer.

Just then, the door opened, and I turned to find that Ana had arrived. While I knew I had seen her most days since I’d arrived in Revekka, there was another part of me that felt as though it had been forever, and for the part of my soul that knew her, it really had been.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

I opened my mouth to try and speak, but no words came out. I cleared my throat and tried again, only managing to say, “I know.”

Ana’s face melted into a sob, and she covered her mouth. “We waited so long.”

I hugged her to me tight and only let her go because it was time to see my father.

He was in his room and sat at his small, round table eating breakfast. It was odd to see that his usual routine was not interrupted despite a change of scenery.

“Father,” I greeted.

“Isolde,” he said. “My gem. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

I stood awkwardly in the middle of his room until he stood and faced me.

“Isolde, is this truly what you want?” he asked.

I drew my brows together, confused by his question. He had not asked me when I’d agreed to marry Adrian if this was truly what I had wanted, because he knew it hadn’t been. But that was then, and this was now.

“Yes,” I said. Perhaps it was the fact that my memories had awoken, but it was somehow easier to admit to my desires.

“If it is a queendom you want,” he said, “then I will abdicate. I will give you my throne.”

“Father—”

He was talking nonsense.

“You can end this, Isolde,” he cut me off, speaking firmly, and I blinked.

“What?”

“You can kill Adrian.”

“No, Father,” I said, shaking my head.

“End him, and whatever spell he has cast over you will end too. You will know when it is done. Please, Isolde.”

“I cannot kill him!” I snapped.

“Then I will help. Killian and I. We will—”

“You would have to kill me!” I yelled, and my father blanched. We stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“What did you say?”

“I said there is only one way to kill him, and it would mean you’d have to kill me.” I swallowed hard. I was not willing to tell him that Adrian had fed from me, but I could confirm other things. “You were right about a curse, but it wasn’t what we thought. Our fates are tied, Father. If I die, he dies.”

I stared at my father as he realized fully the impact of what I had told him. Of everyone, I could trust my father to keep the secret. He would never wish harm upon me—he had almost gone to war just so he would not have to give me up to the Blood King.

“So you see,” I whispered, “there is no way.”

My father shook his head. “Isolde.”

“I’ll be all right, Father. Adrian will protect me.”

There was a knock at the door. “Your Majesties,” Ana called. “It is time.”

I took a few steps, closing the distance between us, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you,” I said, and as I drew away, he held my face between his hands.

“You are the hope of our kingdom, Isolde.”

Ana collected us, and together we made our way to the great hall. It had been decorated with flags in Adrian’s colors—red and black with gold accents—but there was an addition to his crest. Among the roses and the wolf was a sparrow.

The room was packed with many of the same people as last night and some additions. Once again, there was a tension here that ate away at my skin, a tension that I was even more aware of now that Adrian and I had bonded. And though I saw a few friends—Daroc, Sorin, Isac, and Miha—we were among far more enemies.

Ana walked ahead of us, bowing to Adrian before taking her place beside Daroc on the dais. My father strode beside me, offering his arm as I made my way down the aisle toward Adrian, who stood tall and proud, dressed all in black and crowned in iron. I held his gaze, full of things he had said and wanted to say. I wondered about my father, at the desperation with which he had begged me to end Adrian’s life. Had my admission been enough? Would he give up on the task and encourage others to do the same?

We came to the bottom of the steps, and my father bowed before ascending the steps to stand beside Killian as the coronation began.

“My king,” I said to Adrian and dipped into a deep curtsy, the folds of my dress fanning out around me.

Adrian’s lips curled. “Is Your Majesty willing to take the oath?” he asked.

“I am.”

“Do you swear by your king to honor and protect the people of Revekka?”

It was strange, the notion that I was agreeing to protect vampires, to protect the kingdom I had once despised, and yet I found myself agreeing with my whole heart, because I knew the truth of this world. I had seen the murder of High Coven by a power-hungry king. Adrian was not the monster—evil could live within any creature. Adrian was the vengeance.

“And will you use your power justly and mercifully as it applies within the bounds of our rule?”

“I will.”

“And will you serve beside me and upon my council to execute our law?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

Adrian’s eyes never left mine as he spoke, and I felt like he was seeing me throughout all my lifetimes. I wondered if he had ever guessed this future for himself like Yesenia had—like I had.

Ana approached holding a velvet pillow, and Adrian gathered the crown that sat atop between his hands. It was black and iron, and though it sat heavily upon my head, I knew it belonged there.

“Rise, Isolde, queen of Revekka, future queen of the Nine Houses.”

I took his hand, and as I did, he kissed my knuckles.

“You are my light,” he said.

“And you are my darkness,” I replied.

They were old words, a memory from my past, and they felt just as natural as Adrian’s touch.

He pulled me up the remaining steps and into a kiss that I felt deep in my belly. My hands went to his face as I devoured him just as hungrily, and when he released me, the crowd began to clap and chant.

“All hail the king! Long live the queen!”

I scanned the faces gathered, noting those who joined the hymn and those who remained silent—one of them being my father. I felt a horrible pang in my chest as I connected with his hard stare.

“All hail the king! Long live the queen!”

Adrian started to guide me down the steps when the doors to the great hall were thrown open and in ran a guard who stumbled and fell to his knees.

“Cel Ceredi is under attack!”

Dread tightened my throat as Adrian and I exchanged a look.

We both knew who it was.

Ravena.

The crimson mist.

“Stay,” Adrian said. “Get to higher ground, and I will return.” He kissed my forehead and as he left, calling for Daroc to join him, Ana hurried to my side.

“Sorin,” Adrian called. “Stay with the queen!”

Several guards fell into ranks behind them, and as I watched him go, a greater sense of unease washed over me.

“You heard the king,” Sorin said. “Higher ground.”

But as he spoke, Gesalac stepped into the center of the room, and I knew whatever his intentions, they were not good.

I lifted my chin.

“So it appears you have made it to coronation day,” he said.

“Do you have something to say, Noblesse?”

“My queen,” Sorin said, coming to stand beside me. He placed a hand upon my arm. “Perhaps it would be best to retire to your room where it is safe.”

He attempted to urge me toward the adjoining room where Adrian and I had waited for court, but as he did, a group of vampires—some noblesse, including the one-eyed Julian and their vassals surrounded us. When they drew nearer, I felt Sorin’s body tense, his grasp on me tightening. Ana, too, turned in an attempt to block me from their onslaught.

I glared at Gesalac.

“So this is how it will be,” I said.

“This is treason, Noblesse Gesalac,” Sorin said.

“It is not treason,” he said. “It is revenge. King Adrian knows a thing or two about revenge, does he not?”

“I am warning you not to touch me,” I said.

The group who surrounded me laughed.

“What is a warning from a mortal? Besides, you would not want anything to happen to your father, would you?”

Gesalac nodded, and I turned to find that my father and Killian were restrained. I spun to face my captor. “You want me to pay for killing your son, is that it?”

“I want you to pay for coming here at all, for turning the king’s eye away from his prize.”

If he knew Adrian at all, he would know he had already claimed it.

I clicked my tongue. “Oh, that rings of jealousy, Noblesse.”

“Adrian may like your mouth, but I, for one, cannot wait to cut out your tongue.”

“Did he not warn you,” I said through my teeth, “that I am a warrior first and a queen second?”

Just then, the doors to the great hall groaned open and a woman staggered inside. I did not recognize her, and despite her muddy clothing, I could see that she had long, dark hair and delicate features—round eyes, a small nose, and soft lips.

I heard Ana gasped beside me.

“Isla!” Ana called and attempted to sprint down the steps, but she was instantly restrained by one of the vampires.

“No!” I reached for her, but Sorin held me in place as Ana screamed again for Isla.

The vassal stumbled and fell to her knees just as Gesalac broke the circle around me and Sorin and approached her.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t touch her!” Ana shrieked.

He bent and picked the woman up by her hair, dragging her to her feet. He tipped her head back so that her neck was taut.

“Your vassal’s looking a little wan, Ana Maria,” Gesalac said. “Perhaps we should end her suffering.”

As he spoke, however, Isla began to convulse.

“Isla!” Ana screamed. “Isla, no!”

What was happening?

Ana broke from of her captor and raced for Isla.

“Sorin!” I commanded, and the vampire caught Ana about the waist as a terrifying sound came from Isla’s mouth. It was something akin to a scream, and Gesalac released her. Only Isla didn’t fall to the ground. She stood with her arms spread wide and her head thrown back. Her long hair began to rise and float around her, and as her mouth gaped, a red mist came from her throat, curling into the air.

“It’s here!” one of the noblesse yelled. “The crimson mist is here!”

A rush of bodies charged the exit, and most of the circle surrounding me broke away.

“Don’t let the queen escape!” Gesalac yelled, and though he tried to hurry back to me, he could not fight the rush of the crowd as they attempted to escape the mist that had begun to consume one person after another. Horrifying screams filled the room as bodies fell, skinned, to the ground.

Sorin dragged Ana backward, away from the reaching mist.

“Let me go to her! I can help!” I heard her yell.

I was so caught up in Ana’s anguish, I did not notice anyone approaching. Someone grabbed my shoulders and jerked me. As they did, I reached for my crown and shoved it into my attacker’s face. He cried out and released me, and I turned to find a mortal had attempted to take me hostage. He held his hands to his bloodied face but recovered enough to growl at me, so I rammed the crown into his face once more. He stumbled back and fell, motionless.

“Isolde!” Sorin called, holding open the door to the room adjacent to the great hall. Ana was nowhere in sight, and I guessed she’d already gone inside.

I turned, searching for my father, finding him just as he bent to retrieve a blade from a downed mortal.

“I’ve got him!” Killian called to me.

We fled inside the small room, shutting the door behind us.

“What the hell is that?” Killian asked.

“It’s called a crimson mist,” I said. “It’s what killed the villagers of Vaida.”

Killian paled, and more screams came from the other side of the door. We did not have much time. The mist would seep beneath the crack in the door and kill us all.

“I need you to get my father out of here,” I said to Sorin.

“And you, Your Majesty.”

“No. Ravena is here somewhere, and I think I know what she’s after.”

“I cannot let you go alone,” Sorin said.

“I’ll go with you,” Ana said.

“And so will I,” Killian said. I looked at him, shocked, but he shrugged. “You are my princess.”

I looked at Sorin. “Get my father out of here, then come find me.”

He nodded. We split up—Sorin and my father to the west tower, Ana, Killian, and I to the library. We ran, dodging staff and servants and members of the court. I did not know how fast the mist could move or how visible it would be against all the red. Still, I looked for it and for any sign of Ravena in reflections. Now, with access to Yesenia’s memories—my memories—I recalled that Ravena’s magic was portal magic, though she was rarely powerful enough to create one without some kind of reflective surface, so she often walked through mirrors or windows.

“You think she’s going after The Book of Dis,” said Ana.

“I know she’s going after The Book of Dis.”

Lothian thought it was blank, but it was only blank because it was spelled.

And I’d been the one to spell it.

We continued down hall after hall, and just as we reached the familiar ebony doors of the library, Gesalac burst from behind them.

I skidded to a halt, flanked by Killian and Ana.

“Now is not the time for your petty revenge,” I seethed.

“If not now, when? I can skin all three of you alive and claim it was the mist,” Gesalac said.

“You would let your people suffer in favor of my death?”

“Some revenge is just too sweet,” Gesalac said, and as he lifted his blade, I noticed Ana’s mouth moving, whispering hushed words. She was reciting a spell, but Ana had no magic. I could not hear the words she spoke, so I did not know what she summoned until blue lightning sparked at her fingertips, but it was nowhere near the shock she would need to attack Gesalac.

“Speak it again,” I ordered.

She glanced at me and did as I instructed. The more she did, the greater the sparks grew. Each incantation made them stronger and stronger; my only hope was that she would be able to control it. Otherwise, it might hurt her.

“Killian, give me your sword,” I said.

“Isolde—”

“Please, Killian,” I said. He relented, and as he handed me his sword, I whispered, “Protect Ana at all costs.”

Gesalac chuckled as I lifted my blade.

“Are you going to fight me, warrior queen?”

“If you insist,” I said.

Gesalac’s blade came down first. It was a hard move, straight down and directed at my head. I imagine he wanted to split me in two, but I moved quickly. His sword caught the hem of my dress while mine caught his arm, drawing dark blood.

He growled, and I suspected he thought that would be his killing blow.

I had to admit, I was unnerved that he’d cut my dress. It meant I had barely moved fast enough, and if he kept striking like that, I wouldn’t make it.

Gesalac picked up his sword again and swung. This time, I attempted to deflect, but the impact rattled my bones, and I almost lost my grip on my blade. It was a mistake, and Gesalac used the opportunity to swing once more, knocking it from my grip. Just as he moved for what I was certain would be a killing blow, a knife whirled through the air and lodged square in his chest.

Killian, I thought as the noblesse roared, and I bent to scoop up my blade.

“Ana!” I called and flung out my hand. Just as I did, she reached for me, and I felt the surge of the magic she’d summoned work its way through my body into the hilt of the sword. I sunk it into Gesalac’s heart, and he convulsed around the blade. I did not let go of Ana until he no longer moved.

“Is he…?” Ana asked.

“Not dead,” I said. He had no beating heart to stop; the only thing it would do was paralyze him for a few hours. I stared at her. “You never said you were learning spells,” I said, and Ana shrugged.

“You pick up a few things along the way.”

The sound of shattered glass drew my attention.

“No!”

I ran into the library, to the glass cases that contained the High Coven’s relics, and I found each case intact. The Book of Dis was still there, but as I stared, a face looked back at me.

“Ravena.”

She smiled.

“Yesenia,” she said. “Or should I call you Isolde?”

I narrowed my eyes. Did her use of my old name mean she knew my memories had been awakened? Did she know about the bloodletting and the subsequent bond between Adrian and me?

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Taking what was stolen from me,” she said.

“The Book of Dis was never yours,” I said. It was mine—Yesenia’s.

“It’s not about the book. It’s about what it can give me,” she said.

I shook my head. “That book will take as much from you as you ask of it,” I said. “Is that what you want?”

“I want power,” she said, and her voice shook.

Suddenly, the case exploded, and I covered my head as I was showered in glass. Pieces of it bit into my skin, but I did not have time to react, because as I rose from the shelter of my arm, I saw that the book was gone, and in its place was a bubbling, red mist.

“Fuck!” I yelled and turned to run just as Killian and Ana caught up with me. “To the west tower! Now!”

We raced through hallway after hallway until I rounded the corner and came face-to-face with the mist. Killian reached for me and jerked me back. It had filled most of the hallway in front of us, completely barring us from the other side of the castle.

“Fuck!” I said again.

“Isolde!” Ana called, turning to run down the opposite hallway. I knew where she was going, and I caught up with her as she was pulling open a near-invisible door—the secret corridors.

It was quieter in the passageway. Our breaths were ragged, our hearts pounding. I kept my hands pressed against either side of the wall as I followed Ana in the darkness. When we emerged on the other side, the mist was behind us, but it roiled and built, gathering like a wall of cloud and following.

“We have to get to Sorin,” I said.

I wasn’t even sure he would still be atop the tower. It was possible he had gotten my father to safety and left to find us. What if we did not cross paths? What if he got caught in the mist? I pushed my worry away. Sorin could fly; if anything, he had the best chance of escape of any of us.

I was in the lead, my legs burning as I tried to carry myself faster and faster to my father. As I crested the top of the stairs and ran down the center of the hall of mirrors, the mist roiled behind me, cutting off Killian and Ana’s pursuit.

“No!” I screamed and turned back for them, but the mist was already up to Killian’s waist. I stared at both of them, wide-eyed and fearful.

“Don’t let it consume you,” I said. “Get to safety.”

“We can’t leave you!” he said.

“You can. Get to safety!”

I watched him hesitate, and I knew he was assessing whether he could make it if he ran toward me.

“By the fucking goddess, leave, Killian! Get Ana out of here! That is an order!”

His jaw ticked, but he relented, and a wave of relief washed over me as I saw them retreat before the mist filled the end of the hall.

I turned and sprinted to the stairwell which was plunged into darkness, only to be hit hard in the chest as I reached the top. I tried to grip something—anything—but there was nothing. I tumbled backward, falling and rolling until I came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

I couldn’t breathe, my ribs hurt so badly. I groaned, rolling onto my back as I attempted to catch my breath, confused, when the blurry image of my father walked into view.

“Father?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, Isolde,” he said, and he lifted his blade. “But this is the sacrifice of a queen.”

“Father!”

I rolled as his sword came down, grazing my side, and hit the stone floor beneath me. He continued toward me and tried once more to bring the blade down upon my bruised body. I tried to scramble to my feet, but a harsh push sent me to the ground again, and as I began to crawl away from my father, I sobbed.

“What are you doing?”

I was so weak and so tired. My chest burned, my ribs sent an echoing pain through my whole body, and I was more dizzy than I’d ever been.

“What you should have done the moment you discovered you were his weakness!” my father yelled and placed his booted foot against my side, sending me to my back.

“You wanted me to kill myself?” I asked, disgusted. “For whom? For a kingdom of people who turned their backs on me for my sacrifice?”

“It is for the greater good!” he said. “Not just your people but the whole of Cordova.”

“Even my mother’s people?” I asked, my voice quiet, calm. “Because you left them enslaved, and that does not sound like the greater good.”

The mist was gaining on us. I had never been this close to it, but now I could feel its magic. It tingled with an electric pulse that raised the hair on my arms, and it reminded me of who I was and where I had come from.

I was Yesenia of Aroth.

As my father thrust the end of his blade toward my chest, I caught it between my hands. It cut into my palms, and blood dripped onto my skin.

“Father,” I said, tears spilling down my face. “Please don’t.”

“Were you not prepared before to do whatever it took to save your people? What has changed? Love?”

Everything had changed.

It wasn’t just Adrian. It was my whole world. The people I had once trusted were now my enemies. The people who had been my enemies—whom I had detested for so long—were the only ones I dared believe. And at the root of all of it was him—my father. The foundation from which my life of lies had begun.

I ground my teeth, jerking suddenly, knocking the blade away and shoving my feet into my father’s knees. He grunted and went down. Then I kicked him in the chest, and he fell onto his back, losing his sword in the process. I scrambled for it and took it into my slick palm. As I rose to my feet, he came to his knees. I pointed the blade at him, and he lifted his hands in surrender. The mist behind him was a bloody curtain.

I shook my head, sniffing. I wanted to break completely, to fall to the floor and sob endlessly. My father had tried to kill me.

“You would be renowned,” he tried to reason. “Not just in Lara but all of Cordova. Is that not what you want?”

I did not want to die a hero.

I wanted to live as a conqueror.

“I wanted to be a queen, Father, and now I am,” I said. I let his blade fall to my side. “Go home.” I started down the hall toward the stairwell. I wanted fresh air, and I wanted to sleep forever.

I made it two steps before he launched himself at me, and as I turned, I slid my blade through his stomach. His eyes widened in shock, blood spilling from his mouth, and as he fell to his knees, I went with him.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

The only thing my father could offer was a choked sound when he landed on his side, and as I watched him die, I cried.

“What a horrible thing to have lost a parent, and by your own hand.”

Ravena’s voice echoed all around, and my spine stiffened at the sound of it. I looked up and around but did not see her.

“It is horrible,” I said. “The burden of a kin slayer is great, but you would know something about that, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh,” she breathed, and then she appeared in every mirror along the hall. She was untouched by battle—perfect hair braided to rest over her shoulder, her white robes far too pristine. It was how she always fought—through others or from afar—but one day, she would know the bite of a blade, and I wanted it to be from me.

She held The Book of Dis cradled in her arm, and it ignited something inside me, a deep and growing anger I did not completely understand. I was two people now, and I only knew as much as the other would give.

“The witches of High Coven were never my sisters,” she said.

“They loved you—”

“Do not!” she shouted, and in that moment, her face changed. She looked older and hate filled. Her eyes seemed to sink into her head and darken, taking on what I could only describe as an evil expression. This is who she truly is, I thought. This is what her path to power has cost her.

“Do not say they loved me! Do not say you loved me!”

I stared at her, breathing hard. I recalled caring for Ravena, but she sought power beyond the rules of High Coven, and it wasn’t until she’d tried to use it that she was exiled and a curse put upon her own magic.

It was why her spells did not work as they were supposed to—because she was forbidden from practicing magic.

“Do you know he never wanted me?” Ravena said.

“Ravena—”

“I was Dragos’s last resort,” she said.

The mist crept closer as she spoke, and I reached for my father’s blade, pulling it free from his body. I had no choice but to leave him and retreat. As I did, I passed mirror after mirror, full of Ravena’s reflection.

“At least you ended up by his side,” I said. “The rest of us turned to ash.”

I had no sympathy for her plight.

She was the reason my sisters were dead.

“Tell me,” I said, continuing my slow walk down the hall. One of these was not an illusion—one of these was a portal. One of them would bring me face-to-face with the real Ravena. “Did you kill us all because you knew you’d never be his choice unless the rest of us were dead?”

Ravena’s anger surged, and there was an old part of me that felt it like a tangible thing. I was getting closer.

“Your power could have been great. It was your mind that was weak.”

“My mind?” she snapped. “Says the witch who fell in love with a mortal. Even in this life, you haven’t changed. Tell me, did you enjoy the bloodletting?”

A cold sense of dread washed over me.

So she did know.

“You let him compromise the one thing you should have coveted—your life. Now who is weak?”

I took slower steps, her anger was a wall as red as the mist advancing upon me.

“Adrian’s love has always given me power,” I said. “It is what brought me back to life.”

That wasn’t a lie or an exaggeration.

I begged for you, he’d said.

“You are a fool,” Ravena spat.

“I am queen,” I said. “And despite all you have done, you are a powerless witch who hides in mirrors.”

Her anger flashed bright. It took everything in me not to react to it, not to turn then and let her know I’d found her.

“Not for long. I have the book.”

I smiled. “And I wrote it.”

She did not need to know that I had not recalled a single spell, that I had yet to remember why I’d even begun writing it in the first place.

“Pity you were not born with magic in this life,” she now mocked. “How will you ever defeat me?”

“I do not need magic to defeat you, Ravena.”

“Oh?” she asked, amused. “Tell me then, if not magic, what do you need?”

“Patience,” I said.

Then I shifted and flung my blade. It pierced one of the mirrors and lodged in Ravena’s chest. Blood spattered from her mouth onto the glass. I reached for a nearby candlestick and swung, shattering it, but I knew Ravena was gone when the mist vanished.

I stood for a moment, breathing hard, and the weight of what I had just done—of this whole day—crashed down upon me.

I screamed.

I raged.

I broke every mirror left in the hallway, and when I was finished, I made my way upstairs, to the top of the tower. There, I sank to the ground to rest beneath the red sky of Revekka, and I knew this was the pain that would make me into a monster.

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, Adrian hovered over me, expression grim. Anger was etched into his brows and the hollows of his cheeks. I broke when I saw him. My anguish was a physical thing that had invaded and warped my body. I would never be the same. My father was dead. The man who had raised me, whom I had looked to for guidance, whom I had idealized as a great king, had tried to end my life for the greater good.

For the greater good.

I kept repeating his attack in my head and hearing his words, but I was no closer to understanding.

Adrian knelt and gathered me into his arms, and I sobbed into the hollow of his neck. The next thing I remembered was waking up beside him. I lay on my stomach, my hand curled beneath my head, and when I met his gaze, more tears sprang to my eyes. I was exhausted, I was tired of crying, but I could not hold on to anything but my pain.

He reached out and brushed them away.

“Do you know why I call you Sparrow?” he asked, his voice a quiet whisper.

I shook my head. I had assumed it had something to do with my vulnerability here among so many vampires, and right now, I felt every bit the mortal I was.

“The sparrow is sought after by many monsters, but she is cunning and resourceful, and she always wins.”

As he spoke, my throat tightened, and the tears burning my eyes were renewed once more.

“You have the heart of a sparrow, even among wolves,” he said, and his lips pressed hard against my forehead. When he pulled away, he added, “It should have been me. My blade that cut him down, not yours.”

“No,” I said.

It was right that it had been me. If he had died by any other hand, I could not have forgiven them, just as I would never forgive myself.

“I failed you. I promised to protect you.”

“How could you have known?”

“It is not about knowing. I swore an oath.”

“To my father, who could not even keep it.”

As I spoke, my lips quivered, and I could see he struggled just as much, his eyes reflecting the torment of my heart. The pain and anger and sadness—even the shock. Who would have suspected I would not be safe with my own father?

“Then let me swear a new one to you,” he said. “I will never let anything hurt you like this again.”

Nothing could hurt like this, unless I lost him. I would have made the same oath to him, but his was already fulfilled. He would never live without me.

“Adrian,” I whispered his name and touched his face, my fingers twisting into his hair. “Ravena knew.”

His expression hardened.

“Ravena knew about the bloodletting, which means one of your four is a traitor.”

It was a greater blow. It was not as if we had many people to trust. The noblesse were not to be trusted. The four were trusted…until now. Who between Daroc, Sorin, Ana, and Tanaka would have told? Had it been a mistake? A moment of weakness?

I also told him of the noblesse who had betrayed him—of Gesalac and Julian—but he was not surprised and admitted that they had fled.

“Sorin is hunting, but I do not think he will find them.”

“What will you do?” I whispered.

He studied me for a moment and then answered, “We will wait. Sometimes a traitor is the leverage we need.”

Strangely, I wondered if this was what it meant to be queen—never fully trusting anyone but my king.

* * *

We would burn my father, forgoing the traditional burial of my people. It was an insult, because no king of Lara had even been consumed by fire, and yet as I watched the final beam fall into place atop the pyre, I did not regret my decision.

I stood in the courtyard of the Red Palace, wearing blue and silver, the colors of my house. It was not for my father but for myself. I saw this as my funeral too—the death of the woman I used to be.

Few joined us for the burning. Ana and Killian stood on my left and Adrian on my right. Beside him were Daroc and Sorin and behind them, Isac and Miha. Tanaka and the remainder of the noblesse were scattered about. I tried not to look at them with mistrust, tried not to think that one among four of Adrian’s closest friends was a traitor, and yet I could not let the knowledge fall to the back of my mind.

We had a traitor.

With that thought, I moved closer to Adrian, and he welcomed me, his fingers sliding between mine as my father was carried from the castle. He was wrapped in white, and what was left of his blood soaked through the fabric, his skin having been eaten away from his body by the mist.

My misery was acute, both because my father was dead and because he had tried to kill me. I was still not over the shock of it, and I had barely slept, because each time I closed my eyes, I no longer saw burning pyres at my feet—I saw my father standing over me with a sword.

How had we gone from only having each other to this? How had I gone from being his gem—the savior of our people—to the enemy?

Was that the duty of a king?

To ensure the greater good?

I did not care for the greater good.

I wanted what was good for me, what would ensure I lived long enough to save my mother’s people, protect those I called my own, defeat Ravena, and become queen of all who would harm me.

That was my greater good.

Beside me, Adrian looked solemn, and I knew it was both because he knew my hurt and because he had not been here to help me. My chest tightened at how he’d looked at me, how he’d sworn a second oath, an oath he had said he would never offer, and yet that was how I knew he loved me.

“What happens now?” I asked.

We watched as a guard moved forward to light the pyre. The fire caught quickly. It reminded me of how fast it had consumed the wood at my feet two hundred years ago.

The flames burned hot, and normally, I would try to keep my distance, the fear of flames and smoke a trigger, but this time, I did not move, and I watched my father’s body burn through blurry eyes.

“We must find and kill Ravena,” he said. “I imagine she will continue attempting to perfect her mist.”

The attack on Cel Ceredi had taken many lives. Those funerals would be held in the coming days. Among those we would bury was Isla, Ana’s lover.

I glanced at Ana, pale and quiet, and reached for her hand.

She did not look at me—she hadn’t looked at anyone since Isla’s death, but she squeezed my hand, and at least that was a comfort. I could not imagine what she was going through. In truth, I did not want to know, but I felt for her in a way that made my chest ache and guilt settle heavily upon my heart. I had not been able to even broach the subject with her, too consumed in my own strange grief.

“And King Gheroghe?” I asked. “When will he pay for what he did to my people?”

“Soon, Sparrow,” Adrian said.

The pyre collapsed, and Father’s body crashed to the stone ground, sending sparks and ash flying. I watched, unblinking as every bit of him was reduced to ash. Until there were only scorched bones left, and it was as I saw the eyes of his skull—vacant and full of smoke and fire—that I remembered why I’d written The Book of Dis.

It was a book of spells. It was a book of dark magic.

The kind High Coven had outlawed.

The kind that could raise the dead.