“Another Black-Blooded? Woken up?”
But Myko’s already turning to Bay—blocking me out. Whatever he’s telling her makes her eyes go wide with horror.
He’s not just dangerous.
Hemightbe the cause of the chaos.
I quickly turn back to Onyx. “So, what is it you need from me?”
Now I’mreallylistening.
“He’s haunting me,”she whispers. “I can’t get him out of my head. He’s inside me.
It hurts. It’s unbearable. You’re the only force I know in the oceans strong enough tokillhim.”
She says it like she’s asking for a glass of water.
Like, it’s not the most insane thing anyone’s ever said to me.
Even Bay and Myko freeze.
Seriously?
Kill a beast that was born with Myko?
Untamed?
A force of mass destruction that wiped outroyal bloodlineswithout blinking?
Who the hell does she think I am?
Roran
Diana is already asleep by the time I get back to my room. She passed out on my bed again, curled toward the wall with her work T-shirt still on, and it doesn’t look like she even showered first.
Our father ‘loves’ us so much, he gave us two old rooms in the basement of his five-floor villa. We sleep down here with the house staff. But honestly? I’m not complaining.
Seeing that shitface in the Konfetkiandaround the house, too? No, thank you.
Just the thought of him sipping his morning coffee like the smug bastard he is makes me shiver. Every. Single. Day.
I sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle her. Diana’s brow is slightly furrowed—she looks restless even in her sleep. Her lips twitch every few seconds, like she’s arguing with someone in a dream. She worries about me too much, when she shouldn’t be involved in any of this. Not at her age.
I take a slow breath and gently pull the blanket up over her shoulder, tucking her exposed arms underneath. Her fingers are cold to the touch.
The AC runs twenty-four hours a day. If we turn it off, the other staff won’t get the airflow either. So even if we’re freezing in the middle of summer, we don’t touch it unless they ask.
I’ve already stocked up enough warm clothes and blankets for moments like these—just to stay low and survive until we can finally get the fuck out of this hellhole.
I kick off my shoes, sighing with relief as the ache leaves my feet. My ankles crack softly as I rotate them. The last few days—since Diana told me Solas is dead—I’ve been working overtime. Dodging my father like just the sight of him might kill me.
I sit there for a few seconds, rubbing my palms over my knees.
I know my marriage to Ivan is creeping closer.
Maybe Diana’s right. I don’t like the risks she’s taking, but if I can really get my hands on what I need for the medicine… I could save all three of us.
I lean forward and carefully grab her phone off the nightstand. I hold it for a beat—just staring at the cracked screen—before typing the password: 0414. My birthday.
