26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Bronwyn

Morozov's boot bites into my wrist as he presses on it until I'm forced to release my spellbook. I stare at him as I gasp for breath; my head throbs from where I hit it when he knocked me to the ground with a blast of water that struck me square in the chest.

A true magicker would not be so useless without their spellbook, they memorize a myriad of spells for if they are ever caught without it and yet in this very moment all my hours of studious study desert me. My mind is blank as I stare up into Morozov's crimson eyes.

I'm sorry, Father, I failed you.

Morozov turns his head, looking up at Gregos. "Get the spellbook from Wilder. It's time he decides which side he is on once and for all."

"No need," I twist my neck to see Wilder's black boots step back into view. I'll be honest, I'm surprised he is still here. I thought he was going to bolt the second Morozov was distracted by me. Save himself.

So why does my heart jolt so unexpectedly that he is here? I don't even know that he hasn't completely abandoned me. He's probably just going to hand the spellbook back to Morozov and go back to being his unwilling lackey.

However Wilder smiles as he fingers the pages of the book in his hand, cockiness exudes off him in a way that I have never seen. Not even when he would recount his lofty magical heritage and how much money his father has. "I already picked a side, and I'm afraid you're not going to like this, but it isn't yours, Morozov."

Morozov hisses in disgust as he applies more pressure to my wrist. I feel the bones strain under his boot. "You fool, you are going to betray me after everything your father and I have put into place for you? You could be a prince."

"A prince of vampires?" Wilder asks, his tone dripping with contempt. "I'm not quite sure that's the award you believe it to be. Now, kindly get your foot off my fiancé before I remove it for you… and from you."

Morozov clicks his tongue in disappointment. "That was the wrong answer."

"And your time abusing my patience is up," Wilder says. Then his lips move, I can't quite make out what he is saying, but he is clearly casting a spell. Most magickers learn to utter their spells in only the barest of whispers to make sure that their enemies do not overhear it and steal their spells.

"You're a fool if you think—" Morozov begins but he is cut off by the sound of rushing water. I crane my neck to see the waterfalls shift their position, instead of falling downward their waters come flying toward us. There's nothing Morozov can do to stop it. Magickers can only control the objects they create with their own magic, and yet… Wilder is turning the very waters in this room against the other vampires.

The waves wash over us, sweeping over Morozov and Gregos, but creating a bubble of air around me as if it has been commanded to not even touch me. In a second, they are gone, washed away, and thrown against the opposite wall. Then the water recedes, slinking back into the pools around us.

I sit up gingerly glancing over at Morozov who is slumped against the wall, Gregos beside him. Then I turn to Wilder who is standing there with droplets suspended in the air around him, a half crazed look in his eye.

I push slowly to my feet, my feet splashing puddles as I move cautiously toward Wilder. He doesn't move as I raise my hand to cup his cheek. He blinks, and when he opens his eyes, they shift so that they are staring at me.

I draw in a shaky breath before I swallow. Slowly he reaches up, grasping my hand turning it over, studying the dark imprint where Morozov's boot pressed against it. He presses a light kiss to it before he abruptly releases me. "Let's get out of here and leave this whole ordeal in the past."

He strides off without a second glance back. I move to follow him, but just then Morozov stirs with a groan. He opens his eyes, crimson eyes latching onto mine. "Do you really think I'll just let you leave with my spellbook?" he growls. "Especially now that I know just how powerful it is? I will hunt you to the end of my days."

"Yes," I say, moving closer to him. "You will. But did you really think I would let you leave here knowing the things you do about my father?"

I kneel in front of him, undoing a clasp on my ring, a gift from my father. Inside is a needle topped with a lethal poison brewed specially by our cook and personal poison expert.

Before Morozov can react, I stick him with the end of the needle.

He draws in a ragged gasp as his eyes move down. "What did you do?" he asks, but I don't need to respond because just then his whole body convulses with a shudder, followed by another one. Morozov's hand reaches vainly for his throat but there is no aiding his breathing as his throat turns to a charred black.

Vampires are immune to most poisons, but this one is made with the venom of a dragon's tooth. A very rare substance since the dragons long ago went extinct, but no ingredient is too rare for my father to find.

And the unique thing about the venom of the dragon's tooth is that it burns its victims from the inside out.

Gregos stares at me, he seems too stunned or perhaps jarred to move. I hold a finger to my lips before I push to my feet. He also knows about my father, but I can't seem to bring myself to kill him.

What was he if not an unwitting pawn in all this? He may have wanted as little a role as Wilder, besides once he was Wilder's friend, and for that, I let him live.

Even if I may someday come to regret that action.

With that taken care of, I step out of the chamber moving to catch up with Wilder and do just as he suggested. Leave this whole vampire business behind me.