“Everything you believe about me—that I’m a horrible monster, a selfish creature—is true,” I say. “I stole that woman from the other side, hoping to undo your curse over my people. But I am standing before you, begging you not to punish her for my sins. I will get on my knees if I must. We can make a new agreement. Please, at least hear me.”
She quirks an eyebrow, as much of an invitation as she’ll give me.
“Keep her alive,” I say. “Figure out a way to separate her from the curse. Certainly the Mother has punished you for killing Walter Pruce. You cannot tell me she wants you to kill another of her children.”
“Do not use my faith against me,” Lyrie sneers. “It willnotend in your favor.”
“Find a way to separate her from the curse,” I repeat. “I won’t try to break it. I won’t try to steal her from these walls. Just…find another way. She is too good to die.”
“Look at you,” Lyrie says. She tsks her tongue like she’s disappointed. “The great and fearsome Sebastian Vulce, enamored by a half-breed. Awitchhalf-breed, no less. You must be disgusted with yourself.”
I glance toward Grace’s cell. I can hear her heart beating too fast, the way she keeps holding her breath. I want to call out to her, but I force myself to look back at Lyrie.
“As touching as your proposition is,” she says. “I learned my lesson long ago to never trust a bloodsucker. Now, I suggest you leave before I add to the curse. Perhaps I should make vampires flammable in moonlight, as well?”
She says it as a threat, but I can tell, it’s already inmotion.That’swhat they were planning with their ritual. They were going to use Grace, not just to seal the curse, but to worsen it.
As much as I’d love to kill them for it, I don’t let myself react. This only works if I keep my composure.
“Lyrie—”
“Go,” she says, voice booming.
I lunge, not for the exit or for Lyrie’s throat, but for Grace’s cell. None of them are expecting it. By the time they realize I’ve moved, I already have the man nearest Grace in my grasp. He’s shorter than I am by several inches, and I hold his back to my chest. With my hand wrapped around his neck, finger pressed to his jugular, I glare at Lyrie.
She glares right back, raising her hands as her guard does the same.
“Let me say goodbye to her,” I say. It’s a demand, my voice ragged and reckless. “We all know I can’t steal her. So just let me say fucking goodbye.”
Strained silence falls over the room. It’s gone quiet outside too. The slaughter has paused, but I extend my fangs, making it clear I’m happy to continue.
“To be clear,” I say. “If you refuse me, I will kill you all, consequences be damned. As you said, Madam, I’m known to be impulsive.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. The man behind her looks ready to bolt for the door, whether she gives her blessing or not. The one in my grasp strains against me, trying to escape my hold over his hands. It’s useless, and he must know it. Still, he tries.
To my right, a flicker of movement catches the corner of my eye. It takes every ounce of self-control not to look.
“Fine,” she says after a long silence. “Two minutes. And before you ask if we’ll give you privacy?—”
“You can stay,” I say. I make myself as small, as humbled as possible. Advice from Cora. Dipping my head, I add, “Thank you, Madam. It will not be forgotten.”
She stares at me, and I keep my hold on the man’s throat.
“Theo!” I call. Looking to Lyrie and the other guard, I say, “Just to ensure you don’t kill me once I’ve turned my back.”
The prison door opens. Theo enters, his hands held in a gesture of goodwill, of pure intentions.
I shove the man away from me, and he staggers to Lyrie’s side, between her and the wall. Coward.
Only once Theo nods do I turn.
And there.
Grace.
Beautiful, radiant, fucking flawless. She’s been here two days, and they’ve been the worst of my life. Two days, and she already looks different. Thinner. Paler. So fucking sad it makes me want to burn this entire realm to the ground.
Maybe someday.
