Page 31

Heat works my sore muscles loose, and I inch deeper into the tub, desperate to escape the icy dread coursing through me. Within a minute, I’m boneless. But not weightless. What happened after the drugs claimed me? I wrack my brain, trying to remember everything I saw through the haze. Quill fighting for his life, fighting for me, shadows looming behind him.

“You let a vampire ruin you.” Viv prods one of the finger-shaped bruises on my hip. Pain flares. “By the stars, it makes me sick to look at you.”

“Then don’t.” I scoop a handful of water into my palm and watch it slip through my fingers as easily as my future did last night. “But if it helps ease your disgust, he was not my first. I’ve had many paramours over the years. You just never cared enough to notice.”

She makes a sound of disgust and flicks my knee. “Lift.”

I do as she asks because arguing will not help me learn Quill’s fate, and that’s what I need to know. What happened to him? Surely, she’d be gloating if they captured him. She’d likely dangle one last visit with him before the rite to get me to behave like a proper sacrifice and save her from future embarrassment. He must’ve escaped. But how? He was overwhelmed before I’d surrendered to the toxins. Silver gleamed from every angle—stakes, chains, blades. My heart gives a nervous thump before dropping like a stone in my stomach.

After smoothing a thick, fragrant cream over my leg, Viv reaches for the straight-blade and drags it against my skin, removing short black stubble. Methodically preparing me for the rite in the way I’ve been trained. Hairless, smooth, pure. As if I’m a bride to be wed—married off to Death herself.

I wet my lips as she moves on to my other leg, repeating the process.

“What happened to him, Vivvy?” I whisper into the tense quiet between us. “Has he been killed?”

“What happened to him? You are a fool. That being is a creature. A demon in mortal flesh.” Her attention is focused on her task. “Besides, it doesn’t matter what happened to him. You alone will suffer the consequences of your actions.” Her hand stills as she cocks her head to meet my gaze. “I cannot believe you’d rather live out the rest of your life as a bloodwhore in the Wyldelands than see me succeed.”

“Not everything is about you,” I say emphatically.

“Vivian!” Father shouts, bursting into my bedroom. The door collides with the wall in a thunderous boom. Vivvy jolts, her hand jerking the razor blade against my leg and nicking me in the process. I hiss against the sting as blood swells to the surface. Heavy steps descend as he pokes his head into the chamber and then quickly looks away. “I won’t keep you for long, but I’ve heard from King Joal just now.” He extends a hand into the room and waves a piece of parchment stained with ink. “‘Regardless of my sacrifice’s questionable morals and allegiances,’” he reads, “‘there will be no burning tonight. Vivian Alarie will ascend as she’s always been meant to.’”

Viv’s sneer contorts into a grin as she sets down the bloodied razor and says, “Thank the stars for that.”

Though we rush through the rest of my bath, I am thoroughly cleansed, soft and supple, as I wrap myself with a towel and pad into my bedroom.

Father reclines on the chaise in front of the hearth, hands behind his head… napping. Because of course he is. My little stunt last night was nothing but a hiccup in their grand plan.

Vivvy trails behind me, humming Adelphi’s anthem.

“Enough.” I spin around and face her, emboldened and reckless. “I’m trapped in this manor, Viv. You don’t need to breathe down my neck or trail me from room to room. Get out.”

“After last night,” she seethed, “you do not get to make demands. Especially considering you could use the bedsheets to hang yourself or the hearth to set the house on fire. You might even shatter a window or a mirror for glass to slit your own throat… Oh, no. I’m not letting you out of my sight until you’re buried deep in King Joal’s catacombs.”

I clench and unclench my fists. What could Father possibly do to me that’s worse than my current fate if I wring her fucking neck?

Water trails tiny beads down my smooth legs and onto the floor, discoloring the varnish.

“You’re going to ruin the floors just standing there,” Viv snaps as she drifts over to the hearth. “Your dress is on the bed. Put it on.”

“When did Cress drop it off?” I ask, tampering my annoyance.

“She didn’t,” says Father, cracking one eye open. “Tyl did.”

“Because of last night?” The blood drains from my face, slowly, then all at once. “What have you done to her?”

Father sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the chaise. “That entirely depends on how you behave today.”

The words evoke a snarl out of me, but I say nothing.

Viv drags calloused fingers over the frames lining the mantel, tracing the edges of dried and discolored petals. She picks up the small frame preserving the pale pink rose I’d taken from Queen Eleanor’s garden. Her nose scrunches as she sets it down—several inches from where she found it, because of course—and wipes her fingers against her leathers as she crosses to the vanity. She plucks up a brush. “Come.”

“No.” I fist the wet edges of my towel. “I’m not some animal you can command.”

“But you are. You were bred to obey.” Father stands, pinning me with beady eyes brimming with disdain. “Have you forgotten you were only brought into this world so Vivian could ascend? And now, after twenty-three years, you want more?”

I have always wanted more, I nearly say. The words are right there on the tip of my tongue, barbed and desperate. I swallow them down and bury them deep. It doesn’t matter. My one chance at freedom is either dead or gone.

I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me beg.