I knew, even then, I did not deserve to preserve her room like a shrine when I was the one who had made her a martyr.
I looked away, unable to bear the weight of her anticipated disgust. My words were everything and nothing, my greatest shame overshadowing the weight of my love for the woman before me. It would not change her mind, but the confession lightened my soul, relieving the burden of yet another secret between us.
“Rion,” she said, repeating my name. I looked up as she walked toward me, holding my breath and waiting for the lashing I deserved. But she stumbled forward as her foot snagged on something, and I rushed forward to catch her. She slammed into me, bracing her arms on my shoulders as my arms wound around her middle.
“Are you okay?” I asked, swallowing as mint and jasmine washed over me.
I released her, stepping back to stop myself from doing something stupid. She nodded, mumbling something about being clumsy, but my gaze drifted to the floor, noticing the raised edge of a floorboard just behind her. She tracked my sight, leaning down to carefully pry the wood loose.
“What is it?” I asked, stepping up behind her and looking into the space.
Calia reached in, softly batting away fragile cobwebs. She pulled free a thick, cloth-wrapped bundle. A thick layer of dust covered it, the particles scattering through the air as she unfolded the material to see what was inside.
“It looks like a journal,” she said, holding the worn leather notebook. The edges were cracked, dried out from years of abandonment. It was well used, the color distorted in places where fingertips had pressed against the material. Calia flipped open to the first page and gasped, her eyes quickly scanning the text. She turned to me, holding it out with shaking hands. “I think this was meant for you.”
I took the book from her, noting a familiar scent clinging to the pages. It stirred a memory in the recesses of my mind, but each time I reached for the answer, it evaporated like smoke in my hands. Flipping open to the first page, I struggled to understand what I was looking at.
It simply was not possible.
And yet, somehow, it was—as Corvina’s long, elegant script filled the pages with meticulous notes regarding Leonora’s knowledge of breaking the curse.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Calia and I ran to the library, catching Brielle, Elios, and Jasper in conversation. Their heads snapped up in alarm as we burst through the door, the latter reaching for his gun out of habit.
“She found something,” I said, holding the battered journal for the others to see. Rowena, Sloane, Ballard, and Castor quickly came in after us, undoubtedly hearing our exclamation as we raced through the manor. Elios took it from me, considerate of the crumbling edges as he opened the cover and scanned the pages.
“What is it?” Jasper asked, sniffing the air. “It smells old and musty.”
Elios’ gaze met mine as he looked over the edge of the book. “Where was this?”
“In Calia’s old room,” I said, running my hand across the back of my neck as I explained what had happened when we made the discovery. I was careful not to go into details, but as I felt Jasper’s eyes monitor me for impending doom, I knew he had realized what Calia and I had discussed. He walked around me, placing one hand on my shoulder as he stood in solidarity. Iwelcomed the touch and comfort as I patiently waited for Elios to speak.
He furrowed his brows, running his fingers over the yellowed pages. “This is unbelievable,” he whispered. “She detailed so many of their conversations…” He continued to flip through the pages, turning his eyes toward Castor. “Did you know about this?”
Calia’s uncle swallowed thickly, taking the journal from Elios. The corners of his mouth ticked down as he read. “I did, but—” His voice trailed off, looking at me.
Jasper gripped my shoulder, keeping me in place as the pieces fell together. “You enlisted Corvina to work for the Vail,” I whispered. “For her to spy on us and report our movements so that you could be prepared should my family make any move to break the curse.”
Corvina always carried a journal, scribbling in it when she thought no one was looking. When I would ask for her to share, she charmed me with her smile and batted my hand away, feigning timidity. I thought it endearing, hoping she would let me see her work one day.
She followed my mother around like a shadow, telling Leonora she knew she was not the first choice of wife for her son, but she was determined to make her proud. My mother had bought it, loving the attention Corvina gave her. They spent most days together, and I had never known what they did until the day they approached me about breaking the curse.
They had begged me for months,years,really, until I finally agreed. I told them it would not work, but I could not deny the glint in Corvina’s eye. Our relationship had become strained toward the end, and my mother had told me how unhappy she was to be bound in such a manner. Like a fool, I listened to them, unknowing that we were all being played like puppets by one another in the end.
Castor returned the journal to Elios, running a hand through his silver hair. “Yes,” he admitted, nodding toward the journal. “The Vail had attempted to infiltrate the D’Arcy’s inner circle for centuries, but there was not a vampyre alive who would stand against them, and they never let another faction close enough to be of use. It was not until Corvina was born, the mark of the curse placed upon her skin, that I knew the Vail would want to use her. But she always had a choice, and she chose to help.” He refused to look at Calia, who dared not take her eyes off her uncle. Her anger was palpable, rippling underneath her skin in a show of power I had not seen from her before.
I stepped closer, touching her back and rubbing my thumb over her tense muscles. “Easy,” I murmured in her ear. “You are shaking.”
“How did she even get the information out to you?” Jasper asked, leaning against one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
“Anya’s father was a member of the Vail, and he would bring us Corvina’s correspondence on his trips into town. No one thought twice about his presence, and Anya was young enough that Corvina’s visits weren’t construed as odd,” Castor said, clasping his hands behind his back. “There was little to no concern regarding your father, but your mother had been on the Vail’s radar for decades. Her ancestors were Arowan D’Arcy’s greatest supporters, slaughtering thousands in his name throughout millennia. You were the enigma, leaving us questioning which parental figure you would take after. We had to err on the side of caution.”
“Your audacity knows no bounds,” I said, barking a laugh and stepping around Calia. How dare he act so cavalier, like he had not sent his flesh and blood into my life as a spy. “You seemed perfectly content to stand in my home and accuse me of wrongdoing, especially as you seemed to keep just asmany secrets as I had. Tell me, when were you planning on enlightening us on this little revelation?”
Castor snarled, “Corvina’s correspondence stopped with the death of our liaison. We told her to be careful until we could find another way, but she was tenacious.” He nodded at the Elios, who scoured the journal at a table. “I didn’t know that existed until today.”
“Her blood is on your hands just as much as mine,” I spat, clenching my fists at my side.
