Page 117 of Blood Curse

Her mouth opened.

I waited for another order.

“Stellan.”

My name came out rough and quiet.

The Crown tried to close her jaw. Cecily forced one finger away from the knife hilt and caught the front of my coat.

Her eyes cleared.

I had seen that change when it happened. I had told myself it was fear. I hadn’t let myself see the rest.

Cecily looked at the guards. She looked at the blood running down the nearest human’s throat. Then she looked at me.

She lifted her chin.

The movement was small. The Crown fought it, dragging her head down until the metal cut deeper into her skin. Cecily lifted it again.

She exposed the artery in her throat.

She knew what my fangs would do. She knew death was the only choice the Crown hadn’t managed to take from her.

I pulled her close.

The memory didn’t spare me the warmth of her skin or the sound she made when my fangs broke it. Blood filled my mouth. Cecily’s finger remained caught in my coat until her grip loosened.

The guards dropped their knives.

Her last heartbeat stopped against my hand.

The chapel vanished.

I was on the floor beside Bryony’s bed.

Her hand pressed against my face. Elias crouched on my other side. The Crown shone dark red above Bryony’s pale forehead.

“Stellan?” she said.

Cecily’s voice.

The sound reached the old wound and found it changed.

I looked at Bryony’s eyes. She lifted two fingers again.

“You aren’t Cecily,” I said.

The borrowed voice smiled with Bryony’s mouth. “You killed me.”

“Yes.”

The smile faltered.

“I killed Cecily after I helped keep her trapped for eight months. I lied for her, obeyed orders I should’ve fought and gave Adrian time to strengthen you. I own those choices.”

The Crown pressed Bryony’s lips together.

“Cecily owns hers,” I continued. “You don’t get to use her fucking voice to take that from her.”