I should tell Vespera. it would get her out of my life for good. Although I risk hurting Ronan, one of my best friends.
So instead, I lie. “Nothing to report, the woods were clear all night.”
Ronan’s shoulders dropped like he had been holding his breath. Idiot. I didn’t look at him—couldn’t afford to—but I felt the shift and Vespera might have too. I kept my stance rigid, my face neutral, not a flicker of emotion.
She was quiet. Watching.
Then, after a beat too long, she gave me the smallest nod.
Ronan really needs to deal with his emotions around the two of them, even if he can block his mind, that won’t stop her from trying to break it if they ever suspect he’s hiding someone.
“I won’t kill innocents.” A voice cut through the room, and I didn’t need to turn to know who it was—but I did anyway, just to confirm.
Drake.
He stood near the back, shoulders square, eyes hard. Always the bleeding heart. The guy was one of the good ones. He had a little sister, barely ten, whose parents were slaughtered by vampires during the last time they managed to get into our borders and killed a large number of us, including my parents.
Short, bright blonde hair like a fucking spotlight in a room of shadows. Tattoos curling down his neck, a silver ring through his nose. The kind of face girls liked—too pretty for someone in this line of work, like Ronan.
Vespera stared at him, Nyx letting out a low growl as he stood from his lying position.
“Are you refusing an order?” She asked simply, and I knew what was going to happen.
Fuck.
He took a step forward, “Yes, your majesty. You can’t expect us to kill an innocent; that’s not what we do. I won’t do it; you can go to hell.” He spat; his whole body went rigid.
I went still, holding my breath.
He was clawing at his throat, blood pouring from every opening—nose, mouth, ears, even his eyes. Thick rivulets,painting him in crimson grief as he dropped to his knees, choking on screams that couldn’t make it past the invisible grip crushing his lungs.
Vespera didn’t need to touch you to end you.
She moved with lethal grace, her gown whispering across the tiled floor, her gaze fixed on Drake as if he were already a corpse she had grown bored with.
This wasn’t just a killing; it was a message.
Her magic slipped beneath skin like smoke, and you could feel it, well, I could. I could feel it, the pull of her dark power—ancient, merciless. She was flaying him from the inside, carving invisible blades through every organ. And worse, she was in his head, digging up his worst fears and memories.
Judging by the sheer terror in his eyes, she’d found his breaking point.
Probably memories of the night his parents died, showing him all the ways she would kill his little sister. She was forcing him to relive it—every scream, every ounce of helplessness—trapping him in his own mind while his body failed.
She leaned in, a cruel smile playing on her lips as she watched him die. Then, without warning, her fingers shot into his mouth, sinking into his tongue like it was nothing more than flesh. With a sickening rip, she tore it free. Blood splattered across her chest, but she didn’t even blink.
She enjoyed it.
His body thrashed, but it was useless. More blood poured from his mouth in heavy ropes, pooling around him. His gurgling screams turned into silence before he collapsed, limbs twitching, blood still trickling out.
Fuck me.
Nobody moved. Neither did I.
I could feel something dark inside me uncoil. Something feral deeply buried stirred at the sight, at the amount of power that was used. Not in fear, but recognition.
And that terrified me, but I also enjoyed it.
“Does anyone else have anything to say?” she asked, eyes zeroing in on the tongue clenched in her hand.
