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Because then I would not have to feel this pain.I heard what he did not say aloud, the words lodging in my heart like a knife. I knew a version of this desperation because I had felt it when Yesenia died.
“It’s okay that you do,” I said, and when he looked at me, I almost flinched. I had known Daroc for hundreds of years, and I had never seen him so devastated. And then he finally broke, a sob bursting from his mouth.
“He should have killed me,” he said, falling to his knees, and another cry tore from his throat. “He should have killed me years ago after I turned him.”
I knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am glad he didn’t.”
Daroc remained on the floor for a while as wave after wave of emotion shook him. His mind was chaotic, and he vacillated between hunting Sorin and dying.
I could grant neither choice.
“I need you,” I said. “For now, the answer is no, but after you have grieved a while, you may ask me again.”
Daroc hung his head, defeated, though I knew he wavered, wondering if this would be the first time he defied my orders and went anyway. He rose to his feet first and I followed, holding his gaze.
“If I do not kill him, will you?” he asked.
“I suppose it depends on which of us sees him first,” I said.
It would not be an easy execution, even with what Sorin had done to Isolde. For so long, he had been our source of laughter, of fun. He was the sunlight we never had in Revekka. Most of all, I had considered him a friend.
And this was why I had so few.
Isolde criticized my interest in use over loyalty, but loyalty was capricious. My empire was built on the usefulness of my armies and those who ran them. It was also built on the blood of those who had betrayed me.
“Do you think I will have a world to rule at the end of all this?” I asked.
Daroc’s brows rose at the question. “Yes. What else are we working toward?”
I shook my head slowly and met Daroc’s gaze. “Sometimes I can’t remember.”
Twenty-Five
Isolde
I sat with Ana. She had made no progress and showed no signs of waking. I wondered if she would, if she might decide she no longer wished to face this life.
I could not blame her if that was her decision. She had seen too many horrors, and yet I did not want her to leave me. I hated that I was about to leave her. What if she did wake up and we were gone? She would have to face our trauma alone.
The thought brought tears to my eyes, and I leaned over her, staring down at her pale face, and whispered, “Please come back.”
Then I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
As I rose to leave, I felt something beneath my foot. Stepping aside, I found a small, black book on the floor. I went to pick it up and place it on the table beside her bed, but as soon as I touched it, I knew it was a spell book. There was an unmistakable energy to it, cold and a little dark, which surprised me given that it had been in Ana’s possession.
I started to open the book, hesitating a moment as I glanced at Ana. This almost felt like an invasion, but it was likely she had taken it from the secret library. I had taken books too, and perhaps she had found a few spells she felt worthy of trying against Ravena. I could not say I was ready to attempt magic again. I felt guilty and ashamed for what had happened with the mirrors, both my failure to injure Ravena and somehow leaving the portal open for the vârcolaci to enter the castle.
Still, I was curious.
I opened the book. It cracked as I did and revealed yellowed pages and faded handwriting. The first few pages detailed healing and cleansing rituals, but as I turned brittle page after brittle page, the incantations grew…darker.
It was the only way I knew to describe it. The words on this page had been used for something terrible, and it sent shivers up my spine.
The door clicked, and I slammed the book closed. I pressed it to my chest and looked as Adrian entered the room.
“Come to say goodbye?” he asked, his gaze moving from my face to Ana’s. He stood at her bedside and placed a hand on her head.
“I hate that we must leave her.”
