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She sighed, adjusting her bun and pushing stray strands of her stubbornly straight hair behind her ears. She threw down her satchel, its weight now inconsequentially lighter than before. Her loss of funds couldn’t compare to the guilt tightening her chest.
The truest of unions between the third-borns of the Sun and Moon will defeat the darkness.
Her mother’s words echoed in her head, the meaning behind them as empty as the room Evelyn stood in. As third-born daughter, she’d been prophesied to one day defeat the vampyr, and her failure had allowed their darkness to spread as far as Callum, killing and hurting families.
She was a coward, wretched and weak. Running had done nothing. Were her efforts now so different?
Evelyn battled her doubts, allowing them to trail behind her like shadows as she left her room to join Cyrus for dinner. She stopped atop the stairs, an unfamiliar white-hot fury going through her.
A bright blonde beauty whispered with Cyrus. He leaned in close, attentive to whatever she had to say. The young woman’s rosy cheeks, the way she peered up at Cyrus, and the way he assessed her... As Cyrus looked across the room, she backed up behind the corner, still able to see him but hidden from sight. After some thought, he nodded to the young woman and followed her out back.
Evelyn’s gut twisted, but why? They worked together. He’d said kind words about her fears. He’d flirted on the horse. Completely supported her when she’d wanted to help the McCarthys. None of it mattered or impacted how he spent his evenings.
She descended the stairs and headed to the bar, taking her dinner to her room when it appeared, and readying herself for bed in the tunic she wore.
The warm soup, crusty bread, and knee-wobbling wine helped Evelyn to forget Cyrus soon after, and she found herself poring over McKenna’s journal. The more she read, the more she wondered if McKenna had been attempting her own grimoire. But there was no magic in the book, not an ounce. Yet, McKenna wrote furiously, passionately. Maybe she believed she had magic? Or maybe the vampyr had made her believe it?
Whoever the vampyr was, McKenna never mentioned it. One word appeared often, and Evelyn racked her brain to remember any Olde Script she may have learned during her training. Was it “white”? She couldn’t be sure.
She hunkered deeper into the quilts of the inn’s bed and sighed, wishing for Blair’s company. As a child, Blair had hidden under blankets and read and read while Evelyn and Mirella had played dress-up. Blair could have read through this journal in no time, offering some clarity and answers. But Blair wasn’t here, and the last time Evelyn had seen her sister, it’d been at her wedding dress fitting, two years ago.
For what it’s worth, Evelyn, you look stunning.
Her middle sister had been so encouraging, so kind. It ate Evelyn up to know she’d been planning to leave hours after they parted, and she hated to think of how her sister resented her now. They never knew she’d lost her flame, and they’d never know why she left.
Evelyn squeezed her stinging eyes, holding back tears. Exhaling, she shut the journal and placed it on the nightstand. She didn’t have time for memories. She’d ask Aster if she had any texts capable of translating the Old Script at Pages and Leaves.
Evelyn buried herself deeper into the quilts as sleep overcame her, burying thoughts of her sisters as she did.
Chapter Fourteen
Evelyn
The next morning, family-style porridge and berries was laid out on the long tables as Evelyn entered the main area of the inn. She hadn’t heard or seen Cyrus the rest of the night, and she was still stewing from her own stupidity.
He wasn’t at breakfast either.
Evelyn simmered with frustration. She couldn’t sit in the village all morning waiting for him, and she wanted to get back to Aster sooner rather than later. A small part of her dreaded meeting the blonde beauty if she appeared.
She gritted her teeth and tried desperately to not give a fucking flame, piling her breakfast onto a plate.
Halfway through, the morning light dimmed as a large figure appeared in the main doorway. Cyrus sauntered toward her.
“Morning,” he said, chipper and warm.
Evelyn smiled, mastering her emotions to indifference. “Morning.”
He joined her across the table. “I was thinking . . .” He spooned porridge into a bowl and topped it with blueberries. “Castle Connacht is on our way back to Callum. We could stop and take a look around.”
Evelyn sipped some tea. “Castle Connacht?”
Cyrus nodded. “The faerie ruins Brenna mentioned. I know you have a cat to get back to, so I wanted to make sure more time spent away from Callum was all right with you.”
How had he come by the name of the faerie ruins? She was about to ask, but something else made her pause. “Wait, how do you know I have a cat?”
Cyrus paused, looking over his mug. “Miss Patricia mentioned it. Said she missed the free pest control.”
Evelyn slowly nodded. “Well, Maxie should be fine a little longer without me.”
