Chapter 16

I woke up feeling feverish,like a fire was burning inside of me. Like someone was blowing it my way constantly, and I could hardly breathe.

At first, I was confused—the Enchanted didn't get sick by bugs and viruses, Quinn said one night. So why would I be feverish?

Then I remembered Emil.

Then I remembered Genevieve, and every inch of my skin was already crawling.

Magic. She'd given me magic in exchange for my blood.

"I actually did it," I told Grey's portrait, so shocked you'd think I hadn't lived yesterday at all. "I…I did it, Grey." I gave Genevieve my blood, and in return, she'd shocked me with her magic.

And if I focused, I could feel it inside me perfectly fine right now.

My hand shook when I raised it in front of my face and opened my palm. My mouth was dry, my heartbeat steady, my thoughts such a fucking mess that I couldn't even focus. I couldn't pick one thing and stick to it, so I whispered to my hand, "Burn."

The magic that was located all over my chest sort of separated from itself and moved, lightning fast, down my arm and to my hand. I felt it, and in my mind's eye I saw the flame burning clearly now, all other thoughts fading away.

A second later, that same small flame sparked into existence right over my palm.

My ears rang.

It was magic. I was doing magic.

I brought my other hand in front of my open mouth to stop myself from screaming or from blowing that flame out by breathing on it too hard. I wanted to see how much I could make it grow first. I still wanted to see how brightly it could burn—and it moved. It fucking moved, dancing to the sides like it wanted to seduce me, and it grew at the same speed that it did in my mind.

It grew until it was the size of a fucking basketball—fire, orange and yellow and red flames dancing around each other, so real I felt the heat of them against my face.

Then I pulled my fist closed, and the magic retreated inside me just as fast as it had come out.

The fire was gone, no sign of it left behind, and my hand was perfectly intact, my skin pale and unbroken.

I did it, I did it, I did it, I thought over and over again as I fell back against the wall with this crazy urge to cry. I just wanted to cry to let go of this heavy burden that was on my shoulders and be glad for one thing that had finally gone right.

But I couldn't. I couldn't cry, nor could I let down my burden, and I could be happy about it even less. Genevieve had my blood, and I had no clue what the hell she wanted to do with it when she wasn't even a vampire. I just prayed to God that I wouldn't come to regret giving it to her the way I already knew I would.

For now, I would not even think about it at all. For now, I'd focus on making the best out of this magic no matter how much it had cost me. For now, I'd focus on not being a coward anymore.

And the perfect opportunity presented itself to me when I went to the tower kitchen and realized that I still had no food left. So, I took two of the biggest kitchen knives in the drawer, hid them carefully in the back pockets of my pants, and I walked out of the tower with my head up, determined to pretend I wasn't afraid until I actually wasn't.

Shadow was there, across the main hallway, sitting at the edge of the painting, watching me as his long tail swooshed to the sides. I stopped, gave him a moment to attack, but he didn't. He wouldn't.

Valentine had had me alone in the middle of the woods that day, and he hadn't attacked me. Shadow hadn't attacked me, either. On the contrary. If my memory could be trusted, Valentine had stopped Emil yesterday from fucking drinking me dry right in front of Tristian. He'd spoken, and he'd distracted Emil long enough so that I'd been able to slip through the door of my tower.

Valentine had saved me, and I had no clue how to even feel about it yet.

Shadow didn't follow that I could tell when I continued down the hall toward the kitchen. I was all alone—until I turned the corner that led to the doors of the dining room and found them open. Six brides were on their way in, among them Amita and Cynthia.

Rachel saw me, and she immediately stopped everyone by nudging them and pointing at me.

Suddenly they froze, just like I had, and for a good moment, none of us made a single sound.

"You are not welcome here," Paris suddenly spit, raising her chin as if to dare me to say a word.

"Murderer," said Rachel under her breath.

"You deserve to die," Amita told me. "It's your fault Master Grey was banished."

"You should have been banished instead!"

"Why don't you go die now? Why don't you jump off that tower you've claimed for yourself?!"

"The Masters are generous to let you live. I'd have cut off your head myself!"

"Murderer—you're a murderer!"

They spoke fast while they held onto each other, enraged and afraid and disappointed that I hadn't disappeared from their sight yet.

I had a lot to say, too. I was going to remind them that they were all there that morning, and they saw exactly what happened, that Romin was a goddamn coward and that's why he chose to banish Grey. That I cared more about Grey than these women who called themselves brides did—they were already fucking the other brothers not two weeks after he was gone!—and that it's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fucking fault!

But I kept my mouth shut anyway, not just because I didn't believe my own words, but because it wasn't going to make a difference. No matter what I said, it wasn't going to make them hate me any less, so why bother?

"Rot in your tower!" they cried when I turned to leave, reminding myself that it was not worth it.

"Better yet—rot in hell!"

On and on they called as I ran down hallways without really looking where I was going. I just needed to get away from them, and I needed to not hear them at all. I needed to forget they fucking existed because their words, their opinion didn't matter.

Except mine did.

And unfortunately for me, I agreed with them wholeheartedly.

My eyes were full of tears and my vision blurry, so I didn't really see where I'd ended up until I forced myself to stop and breathe and reminded myself that the brides could go fuck themselves when there were the likes of Emil and Tristian in this very castle who could ambush me any second and do to me what Emil had done just last morning.

That sobered me up really quickly and I reached for the handles of the kitchen knives in my back pocket as I blinked the tears away and focused on my surroundings.

I recognized the doors at the end of the hallway I was in and my heart sank. A look around and I realized I was alone—nobody was there with me, and I couldn't hear Shadow's wings beating nearby, either.

But behind those doors was a very dark and long corridor that led to one of the most unusual rooms in the castle—the theatre. The stage. The piano I used to play every single night with Valentine when I first came to the Woods.

My legs took me to it before I realized I'd made up my mind. I opened the doors, and I went through the dark corridor, and my step didn't falter even though I couldn't see anything at all. Even my hand had remembered exactly how high the handle of the door on the other side was, so that when I opened it and stepped through, I breathed easier.

The piano was right there.

I bit my tongue to keep from crying again—I was getting so sick and tired of those tears. The room was empty, and when I turned the switch on, that single limelight fell on the red seats below the stage to reveal that nobody was sitting there.

I made my way to the piano while my heart slammed against my chest faster and faster with each step like I was being chased; like, if I didn't make it to that bench within seconds, it was going to disappear forever.

Only when I sat down and pulled the fallboard open and touched the keys did I calm down a little bit. I'd missed it so much it hurt me even now. My hands were still shaking as I pressed key after key, smiling at myself, blinking the blur of the tears away.

If only Grey was here with me right now.

If only he could hear me playing him a song.

He wasn't, but I played it anyway, to the very end, fully aware that I was giving everyone in this castle the opportunity to do whatever they pleased with me before I even realized they were there.

I still played.

I was neverone to talk to myself much, but lately that had changed. It's not like I was isolated. I spoke to Zane every day when I went to check on the animals. I spoke to Quinn every night when we trained, and then to Toss and several other people when we went to get ale at Mina's.

No, I wasn't as isolated as those first few days, but I still found that thinking out loud helped keep my thoughts in order.

That's what I was doing when I finished the song I played for Grey, then continued to touch the keys gently, slowly.

"If they didn't find me until now, that means they don't know I'm here," I said—and I knew it was bullshit, but I was just trying to convince myself to stay a bit longer.

"This is not mine," I said then, when I saw the leather piece at the edge of the shiny surface of the piano. It was a printed music folder, apparently, and it had pieces from a few of the best composers in history, starting with Beethoven. They were definitely not mine. I hadn't seen sheet music since high school. The only pieces I knew how to play were ones I'd memorized, but here they were, and some lines were written over with a red pen, too. Someone had changed pitches and rhythms and chords on most of the pieces—and I knew exactly who had done it.

"Valentine," I said to the room, shaking my head and smiling a little as I went over the sheets again, then turned to look at the audience as if to make sure that he wasn't sitting there in the very middle like he used to, to listen to me play.

Those had been some of the best nights of my life, though. When I played for Valentine—and Grey, too, though I didn't know he was even listening—were some of the best nights I'd spent in this castle or anywhere else in the world for that matter.

I sighed, pulling to the side the last of the sheets to find more words scribbled at the edge of the last page—tempo is off. Piece is unfinished.

I snorted—it was a piece written by Bach, and Valentine thought the tempo was off? "Typical." So typical Valentine to think he knew it all that I almost laughed.

Then I closed the leather folder and I stood up because my stomach was growling, and I couldn't stand doing without food any longer. My limbs had already gotten too heavy. So, stressed about how I was going to make it to the third tower, I didn't even consider going back to the kitchen, afraid I'd run into the brides again. No, I'd rather get a jacket and go eat in the town somewhere like I had last time. I'd never been there during the day before, but it was always dark in the Whispering Woods, so it really couldn't be any different.

And I opened the door to leave the theatre, but…

Something about that red ink.

I stopped, eyes closed as I breathed in deeply, the markings on the sheet music right there printed on the back of my lids. In my mind, I could see Valentine sitting there at that bench and creating melodies, then deciding that he was not happy about a certain note or chord and making changes to better suit his ears.

Just…something about that red ink that didn't let me move. Switch the light off. Go back to the third tower.

I never even knew that Valentine had taught himself how to play before he challenged Grey and I came and found him right here, begged him to call off the duel. It was the last time we spoke before I learned his secrets. Before I found out he'd tried to kill me by promising me freedom. Before he tried to kill me again in the clearing with Shadow, and Grey got banished because Storm saved my life.

Secrets. That's the word that came to mind when I thought of Valentine now. Secrets, so many of them, and that red ink on the sheet music.

That handwriting on the sheet music.

I turned and went back to the piano without really thinking anything clearly. My mind was as chaotic as ever when I opened that leather folder again and I went through the corrections he'd made with the red ink. Then the end. The page at the very end. Tempo is off. Piece is unfinished.

That handwriting.

My legs were shaking so badly that I sat on the bench and I reminded myself to breathe, but breathing wasn't going to change the fact that I knew that handwriting. I'd seen it before—in fact, I'd read words written in it every single day. I'd read them in the book that was supposed to teach me the basics of magic. The book that Quinn had bought for me.

Part of me didn't want to believe in my own self because it was ridiculous. It was sad. Way too heartbreaking—but I knew. And that's the only thing I was able to think about as I ran out the theater with the leather folder in my hands, barely breathing, not in the least afraid of running into the brides or being caught outside the third tower by Emil or Tristian, even Romin. No, I didn't have enough brain cells to even think about it. I just ran with the folder clutched to my chest, praying that I was just seeing things, that it was not the same handwriting. No way had Valentine written that book because then it would mean that he'd helped me, and I'd accepted it without knowing. Then it would mean that Quinn had lied to me through her teeth. Then it would mean Quinn was notwho she said she was, either.

It would mean I was still much more vulnerable than I'd realized, so, no—it was not the same handwriting, only similar. Someone else had written that book and Quinn had really just bought it off someone in town. That's it—that's all there was to it.

Except when I made it to the closet of my bedroom and sat on the floor in front of Grey's portrait, shaking, and I reached for the book I'd left on the floor near the frame, I knew.

When I opened the cover and took in the title, the shapes and curves of the letters on the first page, I knew.

It was the same handwriting—the exact same.

Valentine had written that book himself.

A frustrated scream tore from my throat, and my muscles locked in place. I wanted to throw it against the shelves with all my heart. I wanted to tear every page off it and burn it to a crisp. I wanted to destroy it so thoroughly that nothing was left of it when the minute was done.

Something inside me clicked—I heard it as if a lock was being turned in my head. It clicked, and then there was heat. So much heat pouring all over my limbs from the inside, infecting my bloodstream, raging with the thoughts in my head. I saw red, and the more heat inside me, the more my hands shook and the more my muscles locked so that I couldn't scream or move or throw the book off me at all.

Instead, it began to burn.

I smelled it first, smelled the scent of burnt paper, and even though there was no fire, no flames anywhere around me, the first few pages that I'd squeezed in my fist were burning, turning to fucking ashes and falling right there on my lap. The heat that was pouring out of me was violent, vicious—it was magic. I had unleashed magic into that book, and I was not in control of it at all.

My God, I was not in control of my own body.

The panic, the fear at the realization made me jump. By some miracle, I stood up and moved back and the book fell off my hands and to the floor, surrounded by the ashes from the pages I'd burned. With both hands in front of my mouth, I stayed right there in the middle of the closet and I tried to take control of this incredible energy buzzing under my skin, so warm, so powerful that it threatened to spill out of me any second.

My eyes closed and I breathed in deeply, calming myself down—just like the fucking book instructed. When one loses control of their power, it responds to their emotions, it said. And to calm the magic down, we must calm ourselves firsts. We must accept what we feel and let it run its course—and the magic with follow our lead.

Laughter burst out of me. My hair was in my hands and I wanted to pull it out so badly as I kneeled in front of Grey's portrait.

"It was him," I said to the canvas. "It was him all along!"

Valentine Evernight might be the strangest, most cunning, utterly absurd man I'd ever met, and I didn't know what the hell to make out of any of this yet.

Eventually, I managed to calm myself down all the way.

No more heat under my skin. No more magic threatening to burst out of me, to burn everything in my hands with an invisible fire. The book was right there, still surrounded by small piles of ashes, but I didn't dare even touch it for fear it would trigger me. It would trigger that magic that had felt…unlike anything ever before.

So powerful. So vicious. So damn terrifying.

"It's magic," I told Grey after a minute, sitting with my back against the wall, knees to my chest. "It's what I wanted, what I traded that blood for. I have magic." And magic meant safety. Magic meant the next time Emil wanted to force himself on me, I'd be able to save myself.

I wouldn't need Valentine to stop him for me—I could stop him on my own. I could burn him just like I did those pages.

How fucking comical. "Tell me something, Grey," I whispered, my mind chaotic still. "If a man tries to kill you, then saves you, then tries to kill you again, then saves you, then writes you a book on how to use your magic, knowing you won't accept him teaching you in person, then sends you someone to keep you company, to teach you how to fucking fight…" I burst out laughing, shaking my head at myself.

Of course, Quinn hadn't just found me and trapped me in the fucking woods.

Of course, she had a hidden agenda—they all did! Everyone in this place was up to something, and it's no wonder that Syra had destroyed the entire continent. Maybe she should have been more thorough and wiped Ennaris off the face of the Earth completely. Maybe someone should do it for her now that she was gone.

"What do you make of a man like that, Grey?" Tears streamed from my eyes, but I hardly noticed them. "What do you make of a man like that? What is his truth? Kill me or save me?"

Except I already knew the answer to that. If Valentine had really wanted to kill me, he would have. He'd had plenty of opportunities—plenty of them since I came back from Faeries' Aerie. He could have killed me any day when I left the castle and went to town. He could have killed me the night I followed him in the woods, too.

He could have, but he didn't.

"He really doesn't want to kill me," I said in wonder. "So then why, Grey? Why would he…why…"

My voice trailed off as my mind buzzed. My eyes were wide open, but I saw nothing in front of me, only memories replaying on the inside of my mind. Memories of his face, his eyes, his smile, his hug. The way he held me. The things he said to me.

I would never hurt you.

I didn't believe him—of course, I didn't. Shadow had been coming for me. He'd been fucking coming for my head, even though Valentine knew that Storm would stop him. Even though the duel had proved that despite their sizes, Storm was still faster than Shadow. Storm still moved much better than Shadow.

Valentine knew Shadow would be stopped.

"My God, Grey…" It made sense that Valentine knew. He wasn't trying to kill me—if he had been, he wouldn't have made that mistake, not in front of Grey and Storm.

It wasn't an act of anger, either. Valentine was too much in control of himself to let anger dictate his actions. "No, he's too smart for that," I whispered. He hadn't acted on anger at all.

"So then why?" Why would he do it? Why would he start something he knew he couldn't win—why?!

Words he said to me that night in the woods came back to me like a slap to my face, like my own mind was trying to mock me for not seeing it yet.

Don't be silly, Sunshine. The only way out of this place is by banishment.

Every hair on my body stood at attention as the pieces of the puzzle clicked in place.

Valentine wantedto get banished.

I was running again,though I wasn't sure where I was even headed. Maybe the fifth tower?

No idea, but I needed to find Valentine. I needed to talk to him, find out what the hell he was thinking—why did he want to get banished?!

Because it all made sense to me now—everything from the very beginning.

When he sent me to Faeries' Aerie, he was hoping I didn't return. He planned to admit to what he did in front of everyone because he knew he'd get banished for it.

But then I came back.

When he challenged Grey to a duel—fucking hell, Valentine!—he did it knowing he'd lose. He fucking knew he'd lose, and he also knew Grey wouldn't kill him. He thought Grey would ask for his banishment instead.

But then Grey let him stay.

So, he made a decision right then and there.

He sent Shadow after me because to threaten a bride in any way means instant banishment. He sent Shadow after me knowing Romin would have no choice but to banish him.

Except Romin saw the chance to get rid of Grey instead, and he took it—so Valentine remained.

My own laughter echoed in my head as I ran down the hall toward the fifth tower. How had I not seen it before when it was right in front of my eyes? How had I not put two and two together since the fucking duel?

"Valentine!"

My fists slammed on the doors to his tower so hard the entire castle shook. The doors that were locked, that I was going to break if he didn't let me through soon. The asshole had some explaining to do. The asshole had a lot of explaining to do.

"Valentine, open the fucking door!" I shouted over and over again, slamming the tips of my boots to the door, too, with all my strength.

But the doors remained closed.

Then…

"Miss Hayes, I'm afraid Master Valentine is not in his tower."

I turned, ready to attack whoever was behind me that I hadn't even noticed approaching.

Then Vinny's face came into view, and the words he said finally made sense to me.

"Where…where is he then?" I asked, chest moving up and down fast—I must have been attackingthose doors for longer than I'd realized.

"In the gardens," Vinny said. "They're all in the gardens, settling a dispute."

Settling a dispute.

An alarm rang in my head instantly, like my body already knew what was happening before I did.

I needed to get to the gardens right now.

Once again, I ran like a lunatic, the fear of getting caught or running into someone foreign to me now. I ran to the nearest room that would give me a view of the gardens behind the castle, just so I could breathe for a minute. Just so I could see that Valentine was still there, that he hadn't done anything to fuck this whole thing up even more than it already was.

That room was one of the brides' lounging areas, and they all seemed to be in there when I pushed the doors open and ran in.

Screams. Shouts. Curse words thrown at me, but I couldn't even be bothered to turn my eyes their way. I just ran for the large windows that took up most of the left wall of the room, one of the few on the ground floor of the castle that actually had windows.

The gardens came into view—the large space of the courtyard divided into several sections with trees and rose bushes and benches and fountains—and there, on the easternmost side of the yard were the brothers, all four of them.

They weren't alone. Flying in circles over them was Balthazar, Romin's dragon.

My heart fell all the way to my heels when I realized that Emil and Tristian were standing with their arms to the sides, ready to jump into attack, and Romin was looking down at Valentine, shouting something at him with his wings spread wide at his back.

Meanwhile Valentine had his head down and there was no sign of Shadow anywhere.

"No," I whispered, slamming my fists onto the glass with all my strength, hoping to break it. "Valentine, no!"

"Get out of here, you whore!"

"You are not welcome!"

"How dare you barge into our room!"

"Have you no shame? Why don't you kill yourself already?!"

The brides went on and on behind me, screaming their guts out while I called for Valentine and slammed my fists on the window that refused to break. And the brothers didn't even glance my way, even though they could probably hear me.

I had to get out there. I had to get out of the castle and to the gardens and stop them before it was too late.

Once again, I was running. The brides called me all kinds of names as I shot out the door and didn't bother to close it. Valentine was still here. There was still time. I could reach them, and I could talk to them. I could uncover this whole fucking mess once and for all.

I would figure out why Valentine wanted to get banished, knowing he would die,once and for all.

Except the moment I pulled open one of the back doors of the castle that led to the main rose garden, I heard it.

The lightning strike that made the ground groan, and the roar of the sky like it was a mighty beast that had suddenly awakened.

"Valentine!" I shouted at the top of my voice as I ran because I knew that sound. I knew what it was even before I saw the sky, the dark clouds that had gathered over us, moving in a circle, a vortex opening in the middle of them.

It was over. It was done.

Romin was banishing Valentine.

"No, no, no, no, please no…"

Even knowing it was too late, I ran like my life depended on it. The wind started, picking up leaves and broken pieces of wood and spinning them around, just like it had that morning in the clearing. The brothers came into view and I pushed my body to move even faster.

"Valentine, no!" I shouted at the top of my voice, and finally, they turned to look at me. Finally, they saw I was running toward them, jumping over benches and roses and the maze of bushes to get to them faster.

Too late, Sunshine, his voice whispered in my ear.

And Valentine smiled at me now.

He had his arms spread to the sides, and he was smiling like all his dreams had come true. I could have sworn he winked at me just before the wind coming from the sky made the earth shake and threw me off balance.

Then his feet were no longer touching the ground. The sky was already pulling him up, just like it had Grey.

God, I didn't want to believe my eyes. I refused to believe that I was too late, that this was happening for real, even though I knew it was. I screamed and I shouted and I told Romin to stop it, cancel the banishment, keep him down here—but he wouldn't be able to if he tried now.

No, it was over. Valentine was spiraling into the sky and his eyes were on me and he was fucking smiling as the darkness pulled him up.

Then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, he was gone, disappeared into the vortex when I was just a few feet away from the brothers. When I was so close to where he had been—close enough to grab him and keep him right here on the ground until he talked to me and told me exactly what went on in his head.

The power of the vortex closing once it had Valentine in its grip slammed against us, just like I knew it would. But I couldn't be bothered to brace myself or even try to stop the impact before I fell against the ground on my side.

The tears kept on coming, even though I might have even passed out for a moment there. Complete silence in the gardens, and I had to blink a thousand times until I began to see again.

Shadow.

He was sitting calmly on the branch of an apple tree not twenty feet away to the side of the garden. I hardly saw the shape of him, and for a moment I thought maybe it was just my imagination, but I knew him far too well not to recognize him even in the complete darkness, even in the distance, even in the state I was in.

Something warm slipped down my nostrils, and when I touched it, my fingers came out stained red. The energy blast from the vortex had hit me hard because I'd been so close. Right underneath it.

My heart was already slamming against my ribcage when I pushed myself to sit up and found Romin was already on his feet, his shirt gone, his wings spread. His fangs were extended, too, and he looked angry when he met my eyes. He looked just as pissed off as me.

"What have you done?" I said through gritted teeth, pushing myself to stand on my shaking legs.

Emil and Tristian had made it to their feet, and Balthazar was roaring as he flew in circles over our heads. The others—Tristian's Blackheart and Emil's Rider—joined him, too.

Meanwhile Shadow remained on the branch of that apple tree, all alone.

Not trying to bite his wings off.

"Now is not the time, Fall. Get back inside," Romin said, looking up at the sky as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair.

"He wanted you to banish him, damn it—how did you not see?!" I was not a ruler, not a fucking vampire, so I forgave myself for not seeing it sooner, but him?

He should have. He should have fucking known better!

The look in his eyes was suddenly murderous. "What did you just say?" Romin whispered.

But Tristian was already coming closer to me with a sneaky smile on his face. "Would you look at that. Nobody left to save you now, is there? Come, Fall. Let me teach you some proper respect for your masters." And he reached out a hand for me.

I moved back, disgusted. "Don't fucking touch me!" I shouted at the top of my voice.

"Oh, no. Who's going to tell us to back off now? Poor little Fall," said Emil, laughing as he came for me, too, a wicked look in his glistening eyes.

My heart fell all the way to my heels as I backed away. "Don't come near me," I told them, but they already were. They were coming, and I couldn't outrun them. I couldn't stop the both of them when they came for me.

My God, I couldn't stop them even if I had all the magic in the world right now, not with the way my whole body was still shaking, but…

"Tristian, Emil, not now."

The brothers stopped.

Romin was right behind them and none of us had even noticed he'd moved. His wings were spread, and his eyes were bloodshot. Emil and Tristian had no choice but to step aside and let him through.

Romin looked at me like he wanted to burn me alive with his eyes alone. And when he stopped in front of me, those massive wings taking his brothers from my sight, he said, "In my office. Now."

He turned for the castle while Balthazar spit so much fire he lit up the sky like a miniature sun. I didn't even allow myself to look at the other brothers, only followed Romin inside without a word.