Their presence didn’t ward off the nightmares. Shadows dragged me under. Hands closed around my throat. Voices scraped against the inside of my skull from depths I couldn't reach.
The ghosts of the vampires I’d slain crowded the dark, their breathless murmurs coiling like smoke.
“You won’t rise.”
“You’ll fall beside us.”
Gentle hands coaxed me up from the dark. I woke tangled in the sheets, breath ragged, skin cold. But at least I had my mates.
By the time night rolled in, I was still shaken. I’d barely finished my breakfast when a knock rattled the door. My body went rigid, bracing for whatever waited on the other side.
Zane and Finn took positions on either side of the door. I cracked it open.
A dark-haired vampiress swept inside the moment the gap allowed it, arms full of parcels and her expression severe. Her high cheekbones and small upturned nose made her so similar to Ilyana that the likeness was impossible to miss. “Four days. Four entire days I’ve been stuck outside those gates, and you couldn’t deliver me a single message?”
I glanced over her shoulder. Zane’s eyebrow rose as he mouthed, “Tahlia?”
The female dumped her packages onto the nearest table with enough force to send a book sliding. I gave a shrug and mouthed back, “Seems so.”
Finn caught my look and signed,I will get tea and snacks.
With silent precision, Zane slipped into the bedroom and disappeared behind the door to Noir’s room. Finn glided out of the suite soundlessly.
“Tahlia.” Guilt and panic warred in my chest. “I’m sorry. I’ve been?—”
“Busy trying not to die in these murder trials, yes. I gathered as much.” She took a shuddering breath. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? When they wouldn't let me through the gates, when the servants wouldn’t give me any information?—”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
She whirled to face me, the sharpness in her eyes cracking just enough for the fear underneath to bleed through. “I don’t want to lose you.”
The sentiment carved straight through me. She was clinging to an imposter while she should’ve been grieving a ghost. I could tell her the truth. I should. Instead, I stepped forward and drew her into a hug.
With a sniff, she melted, her arms tightening around me. “I thought the competition had killed you. Or that you’d been murdered like Lady Genevieve. Or?—”
“I’m fine. I’m here.”
“For how long?” She pulled back, studying my face. “There are more trials. More ways for you to die.”
“Have a little faith in me. I’ve survived this long. I'mgoing to win.” I sank onto the chaise and patted the cushion beside me.
Sighing slowly, she dropped next to me. Her shoulders slumped. “You can’t know that.”
“I captured a legendary assassin from the House of Whispers for the second trial.” I gestured toward the adjoining room. “If that doesn’t prove my strength?—”
Her hands gripped my arms. “It proves you’re reckless. And lucky. But luck runs out, especially in the Trials of Succession.”
“Then what would you have me do? Let the Flask consume me because I forfeited?”
“No. I just…” Her expression crumpled. “I want to spend time with you. However much time we have left. Even if you die in the next trial, I want these moments.”
The honesty slid past all my walls. She just wanted her sister. My stomach knotted at the grief softening her face. I had no claim to the grief in her voice or the love in her gaze, yet both settled on me anyway. I felt unworthy of all of it, but I couldn’t step away now.
“Stay nearby,” I heard myself say. “Find a room in the borough until the trials are over.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’d…”
