“Draven is Erendriel’s son,” she said without any preamble. “He is half Fae.”
For a brief moment, shock cut through the rage I was feeling. Draven was half Fae. Erendriel’s son . . .
Fuck it. I didn’t care. Draven wasmine.
“If you think . . . I’m loyal”—Draven coughed harder and sucked in a breath. I could hear his lungs rattling from here—“to my piece of shit father, you’re even crazier than my mother.” He rushed out the last words before doubling over and vomiting blood.
I frantically pulled against Vail. “Let me help him, damn you!”
“It’s the iron,” Carmilla explained. “The Fae can’t stand it. Velika used to cut him up with it, and I’m pretty sure there are still some pieces buried in his chest. She really did hate him,” my aunt mused. “I never did understand why.”
“Please,” I begged. “Just let me help him before it’s too late.”
“He’s not dying,” Lucian said dismissively. “Trust me—he’s looked way worse than this. Haven’t you, boy?”
Speaking seemed to be beyond Draven now, because all he could do was glare at Lucian.
“I understand you care for him,” Carmilla said softly, “but we don’t know how much control his father has over him. He cannot be trusted, and it’s a risk to let him live.”
“Please,” I pleaded. I couldn’t lose Draven. Not only because I’d promised to keep him safe, but because I was pretty sure I was falling in love with him. Something in his soul called to mine, and I couldn’t let that go. Plus, he loved Kieran, and my sweet Kier loved him in return. “I’ll work with you. Help you. Just please don’t kill him.”
“Seriously?” Demetri sneered at me. “Fuck this.” He stalked towards Draven, who pulled against the chains but had nowhere to go.
“Stop!” I screamed, and for a second, I thought Vail would let me go, but then he tightened his grip again.
“Demetri!” Carmilla barked.
But the House Laurent Heir didn’t hesitate as he grabbed a sword from one of the nearby guards and shoved it through Draven’s gut.
“He’s alive,”Carmilla said from where she stood on the other side of the bars. After Demetri had stabbed Draven, I’d absolutely lost it.
I was still a little murky about what had happened. The ground had trembled, I remembered that much. Maybe Draven had tried to rally his Fae magic? At some point, Vail had either let me go or I’d slipped free from his grasp to dash towards Draven.
I brushed my fingers together and looked down at the cold and sticky blood on them. Draven’s blood. I had reached him. Freed him. I remembered a spark of magic and then the chains disintegrating like they’d never been there.
But that couldn’t have been right . . . I must have somehow unlatched them.
Everything had been so chaotic. Draven had sagged against me, the building had shaken, and then . . . darkness.
I’d woken up in a cell, presumably in the dungeon of the Sovereign House.
“It’s admirable that you think I’d take your word about anything at this point,” I rasped and moved to a sitting position against the wall. My throat felt like it was on fire.
She tossed a leather waterskin through the bars, and I snatched it up. I sniffed it but didn’t detect anything obvious in it. Carmilla let out an annoyed sound when I hesitated for another second before guzzling the water down. It’s not like I could refuse to eat and drink forever.
Besides, she had a crown capable of binding souls. Poisoned or spelled water was the least of my worries.
I wondered if my bloodline would protect me against the crown. It hadn’t protected Draven, at least not entirely. Would Carmilla use it against me?
Had she used it against Vail? Or was I just desperate to believe he hadn’t had a choice in betraying me?
Carmilla laughed under her breath. “I can practically feelyou thinking from here, trying to puzzle out what has happened and planning for possible contingencies.” Her dark purple eyes, which were identical to my own, danced with amusement in the dim lighting. “You make me proud.”
“Funny.” I wiped the back of my hand against my mouth. “Your decisions lately have made me sick.”
The corners of her mouth tightened. “You’re young. It’s easy to be idealistic when you haven’t been dealing with everyone’s bullshit and ridiculous demands for almost a century.”
I stared at the roughed-up stone floor of my cell. Moroi politics were frustrating because every House was out for themselves. We were desperately fighting for survival, but instead of cooperating, everyone was plotting how to spin the deal in their favor. It hadn’t always been like this. I had no actual proof of that, but I had to believe it because there was no way we would have survived as long as we had if we hadn’t worked together before.
