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“Shit, yes. I told no one, as requested. Not even my seconds.”

“I didn’t either.” A sharp pain drilled through his head. “Except … ”

Stone took hold of his arm, gripping it hard. “Ian? Who did you tell?”

Ian couldn’t breathe and the pain in his head felt like someone had suddenly jammed a hot poker inside his skull. In that moment, his world flipped upside down and everything he knew to be true no longer was.

As he stared hard at nothing in particular, Ian’s perspective began to shift. Raven’s Overlook slipped into his mind, the horror, the carnage, the loss of those he loved.

“I don’t get it. His brother died there. His more powerful brother. Which would mean he’d planned his death.”

Stone shook Ian’s arm. “Whose brother? Talk to me.”

He met Stone’s gaze, but shook his head back and forth. “This can’t be possible. I have to be wrong. Otherwise what happened here tonight began five-hundred years ago. It can’t be true.”

Stone yanked his arm hard. “Fuck it, talk to me. You know who it is, don’t you?”

It could only be one person, but Ian couldn’t speak the name aloud.

He jerked his arm away and thrust his hands into his hair, dislodging the woven clasp. He’d chosen to believe Ben. That was what came to him. Ben had said Regan had enthralled him. Those had been Ben’s words all those centuries ago. And Ian had believed him.

Ravens Overlook.

All the dead.

His sister ripped to pieces, her babies with her.

He heard a loud wind, or sound, or something. But it was coming out of his throat.

He levitated then took off flying north. Maye he could escape the truth if he flew fast enough.

Stone ghosted his movements, tracking with him.

For the last several centuries, Ian had cast all the blame at Regan’s feet. But the whole time, a snake had slithered through Camberlaune, feeding Ian’s mind with poison.

But what else had Ben done on his watch? What other nightmares had he instigated?

Ian recalled the attack on Westbreak Village two-hundred years ago. Though it wasn’t as severe as Raven’s Overlook, some had called it a massacre because thirty Realm-folk had died, including two of his most powerful Guardsmen. One of them had been a mastyr equal to Ben.

Ian could recall a couple more incidences where powerful mastyrs had died in the midst of an Invictus blitz attack. He had to conclude these hadn’t been random after all. Ben was just getting rid of his competition.

Holy fuck. Never had a vampire been so ambitious, so ruthless as Ben. And Ian hadn’t seen it.

When the storm of awareness finally passed, Ian was left with an ice cold sensation throughout his body that made his fingers ache.

Slowly, he came back to himself and levitated midair to gain his bearings. He’d been moving steadily north and was somewhere over the Dauphaire Mountains.

The air was freezing cold, matching the frost in his veins.

Stone said nothing, just stuck close as Ian turned to head back the way he’d come, back to the fortress.

But something else nagged at him, something he’d forgotten.

What was the last thing Ben had said to him?

A new kind of dread filled him as he recalled everything he’d told Ben.

Come with me, he pathed to Stone.

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